Ghazal

Poem By Ishrat Afreen

Hands, picking cotton - how I love those hands
A perfect metaphor for the love of the land.

They had battled with stormy seas, all night long,
When, defeated, those strange folk, reached the land.

Like a fragrant bonfire the garden glowed for me
Like stationary sparks the flowers glowed for me

Those eyes wrung dry, that can't have been me
Dearer than your life, that can't have been me

That very night such torrents of rain had to pour
When my crumbling home was assaulted as never before.

[Translated by Rukhsana Ahmad ]

Comments about Ghazal

They had battled with stormy seas, all night long, When, defeated, those strange folk, reached the land. Like a fragrant bonfire the garden glowed for me Like stationary sparks the flowers glowed for me awesome lines..i wonder y too many people dont read this piece of ghazal


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Other poems of AFREEN

The First Prayer Of My Elders

From the womb of the night
A tiny ray of Light was thus born:
Night uncurled the lovely pink fists of Dawn
read her palm

To An Unfinished Man

This last experience made it clear to me:
despite your talents,
despite being tall and handsome as a man,
you're still a boy

The Dance

The silence
now nags,
and loneliness
Chirrups on the rooftop

Rose & Cotton

Gold bodies,
the girls toiling in the fields,
turned grey in the summer heat

Cold War

Yellow flowers-loving girl,
how long will you fear the girl inside you;
tell me, how long will you fight yourself?

Dedication

I grew
Taller than my father
And my mother won.