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Over my illness, doctor will think tonight
With each syrup, life will shrink tonight

I am not that brave to enter grave
In an endless gorge, soul will sink tonight

If the nectar of Husayn isn't on way
Then, tell me what shall I drink tonight

And with me, pen fell down lifeless
Neither it has blood, nor it has ink tonight

Now eyes of Mirza are about to freeze
They may shut, they won't blink tonight

~
Mirza Sharafat
Poet is scared of death, poem written in gazal format.
Hum  to  yun  aam   hai,  pur naaz    hotey
Warna  ap   par   bhi   asar   andaz   hotey

Tere  saaz  se  kaha  mili   hai  meri  awaaz
Phir   tere   asraar    ke    humraaz   hotey

Dikhatey hum manatey  hai  yaaru ko kaise
Kabhi  aa.kar wo hum se  to naraaz  hotey

Is Ishq me daikhey  hain  jo  Qatal gah  bhi
Kaash  us   inteha  ke  hum  aghaaz   hotey

Is  bey-jaan shayiri se wo ro padi  Sharafat
Shayir na hotey, kam az kam jaanbaz hotey
A free verse Urdu poem.
Croon thy words
In a tune loud.
Wrap me ****
In a white shroud.

Yell thy whine
for my chained soul,
What shall determine
The dead one's parole?

Solace me dear
For death I Fear.
Strange is yet
That All I hear!

Dead one fears
As corse is hurried.
Don't haste to the yard
Where bones are buried!

Since I hear,
Speak to me dear.
As far I am unalive
Azrael won't arrive
And
Speak to me a lie
Until I die.
Monologue of a corse, hearing people's elegies for his death.
Let me unroll rugs, prayers to furnish tonight
Promise to my Lord may accomplish tonight

Urdu sipped my blood since years back
Let me try my grief in English tonight

Stars walked around the sky over her mansion
Eagerly gathered to know her wish tonight

Rivulets flowing down your cheeks are havoc
Oh Lord!  Who will relieve her anguish tonight

Evening of June and approaching misfortune
Silently my hopes wait to vanish tonight

Who cares for Life, Leila and Love
Let them cause my soul to perish tonight

Mirza, in Husayn's abode, swears by Lord
In divine Kingdom, he feels devilish tonight
Tonight, poet is careless for his life.
Lift me, Gift me
some flowers
Pale and rare.
Bereave me of love,
Tear me bare.

I was all chasing your Shadow
In a desert Vast
I had to tell thee Numberless
Grievances of past
On Thursday evening
I pray near a Grave in Kashmir
Incense sticks
And candles
Lit in bundles
Aroma makes me feel
As I kneel

This is land of my forefathers
Where they rest
I too look for a place nearest
I belong to these graves
Here my soul craves
To sleep till eternity
In the Eden of divinity
What else I Should ask
That has more dignity
~
Mirza Sharafat
Mirza Sharafat visits an ancestral graveyard  at Zadibal in Srinagar. On every Thursday evening Shiitte Muslims light candles and incense sticks on graves. This aura relieves poet and he feels his belongingness to graves where his forefathers rest. He looks for a place nearest where his soul craves to sleep for eternity.
Tears will flow, there is no patience tonight
Each drop will mourn her absence tonight

I am alone at home, who else will listen?
Cries won't make any offence tonight

She has a reason to do all this havoc
She will tear letters in my presence tonight

Dispute has rendered her fearless
She looks stranger at my residence tonight

Sharafat, don't add fuel to boiling anger
Keep calm, and cry with silence tonight
I asked God—standing; lying prone tonight
Tears made visible God's throne tonight

Mi'raj—so God raised Muhammad to Skies
Then don't tell me, Lord is alone tonight

Love turned hatred—this is not her act
God! Who turned her heart stone tonight?

Ah! Holy anxiety—I am gruelled—By God
With teary eyes and hollow bone tonight
Pain may dwell, grief may last tonight
Pangs recall moments of past tonight

Lovers go blind this night, it is Union
No religion preaches to fast tonight

Then tear this flower—Leave me alone
Dear Love—your anger is vast tonight

"Curse" yelled the Agha—says 'almanac'
This is what made me aghast tonight

Mirza—accept your defeat—Love is lost
Separation—havoc is  forecast tonight
Mirza Sharafat, writers before Agha Amjad Ali, after agha discovered a bad omen from Almanac. Mirza Sharafat has extensively used Tonight as consistent successor for his rhyme scheme, in all poems falling under collection "Letters In Grief".
Shall I tell Spring?
That you have clutched a pair of flowers
Withered in your hands
They resemble us...

Shall I tell summer?
That your lips and eyes have parched
By the vehement love
So long ago.

Shall I tell autumn?
That your heart has grown crispier
More tender than Chinar leaves
Trampled by me.

Shall I tell winter?
Your ***** is so frozen
No longer which, yearns for warmth
So fragile to split.
~
Her Orchards of Despair
-Mirza Sharafat Hussain
There is no day, no moment, poet does not think of Leila. Her Orchards in spring are full of despair, poet counts the miseries so brilliantly.
Is this the end?
I ask 'Azrael'
Where shall I depart
Where shall I restart
Where to take my heart?

What if the answer is silence
And if
Angel of Death
Steals my breath
And Says:
We Love you more
Then you adore
Your Leila

What Shall I say
On that day
When I will be alone on my way
~
Mirza Sharafat
Talking to Angel of Death, when you ask him about your love, but what if he loves you more than you love your beloved.
When did I say, like this you wait?
To fix your gaze on my portrait.
In yearning of me, she is dazed,
Thorns in hand firmly she seized,
Without a blink, her eyes freezed.
A girl deep in love with poet waits for him,
when mirza is late enough to make her weep In His Wait.
Mirza Expresses his concern for beloved.
Separation shall not define
Beats getting weak in my heart
Instead
Be lull but me mine
Darling—stay bleak in my heart

Your lament mourned in storms
Some cries cling deep in my heart
It is who
Crossed leagues to die in my arms
Who has born to weep in my heart
Grief may lament, such verse I will serve tonight
Words dwell in heart, poetry in my nerve tonight

Who knows how to bear, the night of separation
I won't ask any wish, prayers shall reserve tonight

Beloved flew below my eyes like the smoke
An hour of silence, separation to observe tonight

A pile of Letters in Grief, restless on window sill
Each word to recall, Each letter to preserve tonight
Grieved verses can make even grief to cry.
Warn my Love—shut office in real time
To shun emotional practice in real time

Challenge my sense, call me in silence
This is man who will notice in real time

Repeat the history and borrow a crime
If you don't allow the justice in real time

With my rivals, you walk hand-in-hand
You are caught accomplice in real time
Over thorns I have seen flowers lying tonight
I have seen moths near lamp dying tonight

I can see my vision getting blurred enough
Before me, I can't see you crying tonight

My speech is rambling on a prayer rug
And each wish from heart is flying tonight

Ever seen frozen eyes of a dead beloved?
Then, likewise my eyes are drying tonight

In the Imambara of Kashmir, Mirza! ***!
Ask your wish, why are you shying tonight
When flowers rest over thorns, and moths burn before lamps, and when all this happens tonight.
I am me
Who said this?
So is my body
An invaded custody
Occupied by her
Thoughts and memories
Two sided glossaries
Not a reflection is mine
That would determine
My own identity
Out of my sanctity

I may be a string
Of any cacophonous Sitar
Where she creates
On my wounds
Riot of sounds
Without bounds
In a long tussle with destiny
I believed in prayers
I was asked to keep patience
For an inconsolable period
Till Chinar Leaves would burn
Till warm rivulets would freeze
After season long battle
Divine promise was declined
That very moment
I was married to Grief
Natives Blind, and few clueless tonight
Who left the town in ****** mess tonight?

Cakes of Flesh scattered—scarlet coloured
And gory shroud—my town’s dress tonight

Turn off the lights—your worship is enough
Dear Angels! She is my holy stress tonight

To tiresome tongues of people—who ask
Let me tell them—I won’t confess tonight

Wavyllah—Zainab—Abbas has left the tent
On bank of furaat—he is armless tonight

Stripping the truth—this love is an illusion
She has left open—her vastness tonight
letters in grief
Night has enveloped, to give me some relief,
Now invisible are walls of separation, and thy grief.

Where blood quenches the thirst,
Disloyalty is faith last and first,
Is the religion my beloved belongs to.

I beckoned, red and black robed lady with a wand.
Let me take her by the hand.
Heard of her about sorcery.
Her powers useless, and witch now about to succumb,
From just a gaze of eyes filled with Kohl of Leila.

My nights worthless, body breathless,
Every moment, feeling restless.
Be silent and hear, hear me, my cries,
Don't forget the promise you swore,
I have lost my childhood over you.

Don't know, how these years left me alone,
Sufferings, separation, theft me alone.
I never knew how pain excrutiates.
Sometimes, I enlivened you my dear,
Love is a blessing, and not a fear.

In a melancholy cloudy day, I mourn.
Glistening eyes, weeping sky, and heart torn.
I gaze from a window in Kashmir,
For a moment, condoling the tragedy, sighing.
In sombre time, lifeless, as if dying.
Let my Absence teach you what my presence did not
Let my laments teach you what my songs did not
Let my disloyalty teach you what my sincerity did not
You recall my memory
But don't get restless

As a law of Love
This is keeping me awake

Close your eyes
to let me sleep
Without marking dawn
I am approaching dusk
That a vague verse
Holds my destiny

In a world full of mosques
No minaret​ reaches the God
No dome holds the prayer
So close to it's *****

What do you say?
To a person challenged
By drama of stars.

Mournfully!
With nerves full of despair
In an undecided future
He has to live by hope
Let me return to past, let me recall tonight
With me cries, each corner and wall tonight

What let flowers to slit throat in my garden
Who has invoked the curse to fall tonight

My screams have awoken people from sleep
Separation to be mourned in rainfall tonight?

He might be Abbas-e-Ali collecting tears
Mourners have sighted him tall tonight

Mirza, your phone is ringing since evening
Who told you to deny her call tonight?
Poet can make you cry, while recalling his past. Hold on and wipe your tears, there is even more grief.
The way, she did to me
Is the way I did to her
The way, where hearts broke
The way,
I will never return to


The way where
Sun used to long last
The days spent in the past
Still, when thy feeling arises
My day neither sets, nor rises
Poets frankly speaks about an injury he inflicted to his beloved to take revenge.
Persuade me
So displease all others

Dear Love!
Wash away your guilt
Purify my wounds
With salt of your tears
And then
When the night nighed
Her beauty sighed
She looked again into mirror
Beauty scattered by any error
Her face is a piece of cheater
Expert as liar quite neater
Then smoke emanated
As if my wishes detonated
Glasses broke into pieces
Ashamed of reflecting her face
To my Love, this is disgrace

~
Mirza Sharafat
Night nighs and the beauty of beloved sighs. Poet speaks about an approaching night, when he realized, non living things turned their face away from his beloved, as they came to know her cheating.
So you are lost in dreams so deep whole night
And I long to hear phone's beep whole night



At dawn, I realised, my awakening
Though my destiny remained asleep whole night



I know the remedy, I know the toxin..
What to lose, and what to keep whole night



She might have waited for me to take her back
This is what made me to weep whole night



Sharafat, night is to sleep, not to write
Don't let enemies to creep whole night
Poet's observation and suffering of whole night.
Sundays at home, are overwhelming.
People who should think of future, are engulfed by fire of past.

Open your door to new friends, before their fingers are bruised by knocking. I said to myself... this Sunday.
Pain, mayhem in words is huge tonight
My rhyming may cause a deluge tonight
A besotted, is fond of her for last time
God, In her arms, he seeks refuge tonight
Poet in a state of confusion, when words turn away and poet has to seek refuge.
With my star, what is unwell tonight?
Heaven is made by tears—hell tonight

Keep your eyes ready to cry for long
I will croon, what has befell tonight

I then raised hands in prayers to God
And belief in Lord, I won’t sell tonight

Let me see her for once and for all
It’s really last, it’s farewell tonight
Not just the tumult, even silence may beat tonight
Each syllable of rhythm may get defeat tonight

When words become futile to express the sorrow
For God sake—tell me—what shall I repeat tonight

And somewhere in deserts of Iraq—Shimr yelled
"I will behead Husayn, if he didn't retreat tonight"

F, N and few more have stormed the love treasure
These are the men who don't look neat tonight
Husayn was grandson of Prophet Muhammad, brutally martyred in Karbala, by the army of Yazid.
Why don't you **** me
By the speed of light
And forget those times
When evenings vanished
On our wet heads
And when we together
Sighed so much that
We were prone to break

Let me hold you
In my endless arms
Where I will lose you
In the depth of Love
And I will find you
Again in the dreams
The dreams those
Crave for my sleep
In my sleepless nights
Words rising from heart are prone to break.
And when you are left alone
You are left heartbroken
You are looking back
Turning face to void
Then
You are
Habitual
Rather empty
..
You were in Love

— The End —