The Last Eve in the Metropolis
When skies begin to change,
New shawls of the seasons,
The people dress themselves
In new costumes,
And begin to keep
The old ones in the trunks,
Then you halt for a while to remember me!
I am a redundant attire
Of every crawling moment.
When birds begin to migrate
From the old regions,
Swarms soar onwards in the skies,
And they begin to ground themselves
In the valleys;
When some sparkling bird bathes,
In circles of the lake of memories
And fluttering his wings flies,
And when that diminishes,
Each moment into distant skies,
And becomes a mark worth forgetting,
Then you halt for a while to remember me!
When in minarets of light
Propped by hands of the sea,
The burning fire begins to extinguish
And in search of warmth and sometimes light
The number of birds thumping down
At the feet of minarets begin to grow,
Then see an astray bird of the swarm
Heading onwards at the sunset,
Then you halt for a while to remember me!
I who migrated too,
And tumbled door to door in search of light,
My presence in companies of friends,
Was fire burning on torso of the sea,
And its debacle appeared at last.
Friends! You will not forget,
But everything appeared to be forgotten,
All divine booklets favour my conviction,
Who…how long…whom ….anyone remembers,
Other anxieties there are too, to be heeded;
At times I shall be no more here,
But my eyes,
Immersed on the glassy windowpanes,
Of the restaurants,
Will ever remain behind,
To see you friends, wrangling, squabbling
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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Added by Poetry Lover
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