Nasir Kazmi

8 December 1925 - 2 March 1972 / Ambala / British India

Loss

Times have put our loyalty to a tearing test.
Let us cut our hands, then. Let us sew our lips.

Events have thrown me among soulless zombies.
Their eyes hold no shine; their words are not their own.

O disregarding earth of my homeland, reply!
Where have the men for whom I search disappeared?

The candle of poets' gatherings - Lahore - has been extinguished.
The field which gave birth to our verses has been razed.

Trees with wholesome fruit have been uprooted.
Walls of soothing shades have been fallen.
Closed shops, abandoned ways, unlit.

Forbidden and forbidding nights…
No one ventures out.

Since evening, guards stroll through the lanes.

Candles are but few.
Lights are dimmed.

O Light of heart and vision, when will you reach us?
The world is going dark with your remoteness.

In short, I had to lift the bans from my pocket.
I was cautious though in the beginning of my sorrow.

In witless desperation throw your head upon a rock.
A fairy might spring up from its heart!!

The idleness of leisure is not an hour for wastage.
Let the pen sketch the features of your thought.

Nasir, there are many wishes restless in my heart,
But how can I obtain that heedless life?
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