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Thursday, February 08, 2007

phoenix's quill

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Rastay mein aik bhooli huvvi shak'l dekh kar
Aawaz di tau lub pay koi naam bhi na tha'
- Munir Niazi (1936-2007)

On coming upon a forgotten face one day on the road
I called out, no name would come to my lips
translation - khalid hasan


a broom, a quill, leaves
and capricious swings
of shamal-chubasco

[aao chai peelo, kuch kha lo, youN kiyouN badaloN ko taktay rehtay ho, you kiyouN her aahat per kaan dhartay ho, kis paighaam ka shiddat se intizaar hay tumhaiN

have a drink, grab a bite, why do you stare at the floating clouds, why do your ears prick at every tap, what is that message you intensely wait for]

in the tusnami nano seconds
of cycle's aggregate
hitting from shumal-uttar
snow and cold democracy
flooding junoob-dashin
desert and heat tribalism

a broom, a quill and winds
can remove all leaves
so ensconced
if allowed to

existence and
can be so fickle


a tribute to munir niazi



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