Poems: Everything Is Stranger
Translated
into English by: Uzair Mehr
1. The Scream
When have we
talked like a discerning man?
Life is torn
asunder
The threads are
broken up along with the pale seasons
Whose dreams
we will wear around the neck like amulet
We will head
to the sky
the sky has
long been segregated from the earth’s situations
Is it the
truth?
Is it gleam
of a lamp or a whim that communes?
Who will
clip the sights of his own solitude’s wings?
The breath
of thirsty melodies’ spirit has snared in fingers
A voice
swells up from afar
The old
boats left voyages with aged sailors
Who will
always be proud of Pleiades and constellations?
These
factitious entities don’t have satisfactory cycles
Why the
lines of a contrite character’s hands are undependable?
If a man was
a worthy man, the life would have been strangled in a deep well
Or a shade
has been sought after like Nietzsche
A word has
been threaded on the wick of a lamp and articulated
In the
seasons of lovelessness, it’s rather better if a man accommodates in himself.
2. Everything is
stranger
In the
slumberous seasons, to whom I will write a letter?
Neither the
wind carries a tale nor the birds pack a philosophy
Neither a
door, window, ship or a sail shows up
The eyes are
restless
I am in
colorful seasons
The night
rolls up the articulations of vernal needs
The color of
pale scenes’ lips pours
A gospel
will prevail that I am in the season of Communications
Neither love
nor a lover, what should I think of epochs?
A person is
abased for an age
where one
should go?
The sea,
earth, pasture, the ablaze lamp of shrine
Everything
is stranger now
Farewell
holy fella
Separate we
are till the Judgement Day
3. The Road of Individuality
It’s the
long road of individuality, pitch-dark night and me
The hands
and ears are stock-still
There’s no
sight ahead
Neither a
seed of wheat to engross oneself with
Nor a honey
to chase and kiss one’s fingers
If only I
could see an unreliable dust
I might have
fled from myself
And moved
ahead
It’s the
long road of individuality, pitch-dark night and me
What should
a man do in the gloomy times if doesn’t think?
The club and
chador would have been taken like deity Johns
And sit in a
suntan to talk with oneself
Or would
find another door
This is
unsatisfactory life
A death
would have been asked from the death
The lines of
hands have long been widow
Why should I
look above?
There is a
cosmos beyond this sky
Or a natural
diversion searching itself door-to-door
The play is
long been over
What should
I say?
An orphan smile,
a remorseful grievance
For whom
should I lament an elegy?
4. The Life
O’ the old
soil of the heart!
Don’t wail
Don’t stich
prayers
The bygone
desires will not rejuvenate now
The
incomplete life is itself complete
Who can sit
in the narrow and dark rooms?
Everyone
runs with his own inclination,
In the deed
of his misdeed
O’ the old
soil of the heart!
Leave these
wails
What’s the
end of the solitude?
What’s the seriousness
of the paleness?
The holy
lord of this jungle will give out sweets
Who will
imbibe blood?
Orpheus entwines
music
We never
construed the universe
It’s better
if a luckless person hangs himself
Now the offspring
of comrade Zeus have passed beyond their eyes
Who will
laud for his offspring?
The combusted
desires will not be burnt again
What will
utter the distant vistas?
The Mars’s
life might exalt us from the sky
Is there
anyone who knows the meanings of the colors?
Everyone is entrapped
in their own matters here
Clueless are
east and west
Who exits?
The
Caucasian Mountain has been abandoned by brunette fairies
Who exists?
The Phoenix doesn’t
eat its eggs
O’ the aged
soil of the heart!
Now don’t
say that I will change my colors when it rains
The doors
are soundless
Open up the
pale Windows
See the
moon, rub the hand on the forehead
Embrace
yourself and bite your lips
Get down
from inside of the epoch
5. The Suicide
A lock has
long been put on the door of age
No one
should come and go
My people
are four keys in me
Every key is
guarantor of itself
The thirst
thinks of spring
The winter
tale is on embers
The vernal
dreams go along with the spring
As
lightnings flash far away in summers
There’s a
list of reminiscences
How have
been the journeys
How has
passed the life
How the
melodies of my youth have broken
The plays
kept moving on
But I was
defeated from myself beforehand
What should
I tell you now?
The rebellious
desires couldn’t travel ahead
I dropped
the arms in front of me
A grave, person,
and green amulet have been tied up to an epoch
The death is
conspicuous as if the life is a ruddy pomegranate
Ah, what
should I tell you?
The ways
have changed
And turned
to places
If the
spiders’ webs woven inside merge themselves, then they should do
The fire
should prostrate the fervid intention
The time
should return along with the thoughts
The meanings
of ups and downs should also change
I will not
come for you…. I will not come for you
I have been vitiated
with my dreams far away
6. The Problem
Oh, kind soul, it is a strange caprice
I contemplate
and immerse into a thought
She is
younger than me in fourteen months
And she will
die after sixteen years of my departure
7. The Supplication
The
panoramas of the world are so afflicted today
Don’t combust
incenses in shrines
The shade of
this Neem Tree might stretch itself
And recalls
the ungratified disposition of the bygone epoch
My kind lord
is the God of gawkish lords
Don’t be so heartsick,
the acquainted dreams need canopy
The fervent
goblet of your widowhood might allay
Shatter the
hazy image of the mirror
Don’t be
melancholic outside yourself
That the portrait
of my desire’s waves incinerates
I will not
be potently gratified with myself at any cost
You know
that…
I am the one
who is submerged in the sea of his bygone memories
How can I
look for the pale lamps of the thirst?
I pondered
in heart many times in solitude and loneliness
I will seek
a new world for me
I didn’t aggress
and speculated again
It’s a
spring of ephemeral days and doesn’t worth for me
8. The Sky
I have been
traveling and entered in such an epoch
There are a
thousand seasons of me, a thousand seasons
In the
season of these seasons,
I
relinquished many dreams and closed up the eyes
I was mum
and didn’t think to myself
In an anguished
era of travelers, the dreams would be set afire
And will be
gloomy like an aged bird
Seeing the
sky, a season of separations stems
This sky has
seen the corpses of many tales
Sometimes
this sky was entangled with itself like an old lady
Where I have
reached
Why this
thirst doesn’t quench
Sometimes
this sky like a chevalier with sword and shield
With a black
horse,
Went to an unknown
war
This sky is
a jungle of beings
An unestablished
gospel
This sky is
a tumult
But there
are a thousand tales inside these tumultuous scenes
The life of
these tales
Calls me
like an old jinni
And passes
like a flash and vanishes
9. O’ Life!
Oh life, I
am an inhabiting traveler of Stories land
I am
stranger from the aged vistas of the sky
I travelled
in the seasons of death and life
Neither I
have a color
Nor
consciousness, dream and life
I never saw
red and green pigeons in prostration
I deplumed
the color of strangeness from the wings of butterflies
I never
thought that I treasured lamps
I never saw
sky at night that my eyes would turn blind
I was afraid
of sea that
I never went
toward the old boats
For I will
be lost
I was gloomy
at evenings for a person
I don’t know
she was a person of how many seasons
It is the
tale of bypast seasons
An era
elapsed noiselessly
Now my heart
says
To distort
this story and live life
Go to sea
and get on aged boats
And blend
into blood like water
And feign yourself
like black and red posters
Watch the
unknown people of era at a windowsill who appear to be like a foregone era
10. The World
I saw a
dream,
So, there
was a wall and it was written on it
Everything
ends here
I saw a
dream
The wick of
my fantasy’s spirit lamp shrank
I smiled
I got up
I am alone
There’s no
one in my room
Reference:
Azmaan Kaaristhe E Log Ent [The Sky Is the Abode of a Character]
(Balochi poetry book which was written by Chandan Sach and published by Ilm O Adab Publisher Urdu Bazar, Karachi on March 2019.)
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