Dedicated to The Ever Elusive Freedom …..

Here is a translation of kashmiri poem written by zarif Ahmed Zarif, hope you like it

Young boughs, burnt buds
Flames are at the garden too
Dreams of love turn to ashes
Sleep scorched by fire too.
Who to tell, who’ll listen?
Read deeply each word,
In deep winter, summer’s blaze
The heart’s frozen in summer too
Mirror after mirror distorts faces,
Distorted too my own image …
Waiting , waiting in vain for
The spring wind to come my way;
Drunk and frenzied, autumn’s grey
Covered its own redness too.
Inside, deep inside I’m ground to dust
Eyes robbed by the thief of sight
Heart after heart- a grave
Mourning quietens conversation too
Letter after letter pierced with lance
These times have banished learning
Pen after pen with tongues torn out
Shackles ring the city too
Flower after flower , wind scarred
The poppy heart glows with the scar
All my being bruised, says Zarif
Nothing left for the balm too …… (Zarif Ahmed Zarif)

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