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Anak:
"Ika'y Tulang muli't muli'y binabasa ng madla,
Na 'di makalilimutan; na binabaon sa alaala
Tulang puno ng damdamin na ni nais ipabatid
At ang saknong ng pag-ibig Mo'y,
Siyang tutugma sa puso kong minsa'y naging sugatan."

Ama:
"Minsang ibinigay ko sa iyo ang pagkakataong
Unawain ang kahulugan ng kamusmusan.
Sa lupaing ugat ng iyong kaluluwa't
Siyang kanlungan ng mga pangako Ko't
Mga pangarap na laan sayo.
Bumangon ka, Anak
Ako ang Siyang sasagwan
Ako ang aabot sayo."

Anak:
"Sabay nating kinatha ang tula ng aking buhay;
Mga saknong at tugma na sarikulay,
Mga katagang baun-baon ko
Sa malayu-layong paglalakbay."

Ama:
"Pagal ka ma'y,
Nanahan pa rin sa puso ng bawat isa,
Di mo man tiyak ang katiyakan, natitiyak Ko
Na ang pag-ibig Ko'y, kailanma'y di ka iiwan.
Anak, hanggang sa huling tapon ng lupa
At huling tapon ng luha,
Hanggang sa huling liwanag
Ng itutulos **** kandila,
Hanggang sa huling pagpagpag mo
Ng sar't saring pangungulila,
Patuloy Kitang mamahalin,
Anuman ang mangyari."

Anak:
*
"Singbigat ng katotohanan
At ng pangarap na mala-kalawakan,
Ito ang huling handog ng makata **** anak:
Ang mabatid kong Ikaw ang buhay na eternal
At ako'y isang kathang Ikaw ang tinitingala --
Ikaw ang dinadakila.
Ama, ako'y malaya
Ikaw ang buhay, Ikaw ang agos
Ikaw ang tagumpay;
Gisingin Mo ang diwa
Ang bugso at alab ng damdaming hilaw
Ikaw ang masundan
Nang maihain nang patas
Ang pag-ibig **** umaapaw."

#041215 ‪
Convo namin ni Lord
Meri aankho ka tara hi , mujhe aankhe dikhata hai
Jise har ek khushi de di , wo har gam se milata hai
Jubaa se kuch kahu , kaise kahu , kisse kahu maa hu
Sikhaya bolna jisko , wo chup rahna sikhata hai ||

Sula kar soti thi jisko
Wo ab shab bhar jagata hai
Sunai loria jisko , wo ab taane sunata hai ||

Sikhane me usse kya kuch kami meri rahi sochu
Jise ginti sikhayi galtiya meri ginata hai ||

Tu gahri chao hai gar zindgi ek dhoop hai Amma
Dhara pr kab kaha tujh sa koi swaroop hai Amma
Agar ishwar kahi par hai usse dekha kaha kisne
Dhaa par tu hi ishwar ka koi roop  hai Amma ||

Naa ucchai sacchi hai naa ye aadhar saccha hai
Maa koi cheej sacchi hai naa ye sansaar saccha hai
Magar dharti se ambar tak yugo se log kahte hai
Agar saccha hai kuch jag me to Maa ka pyar saccha hai ||

Jara saa der hone par sabhi se puchti Amma
Palak jhapke bina darwaja ghar ka taakti Amma
Har ek aahat par uska chouk padna fir duaa dena
Mere ghar laut aane tak barabar jaagati Amma ||

|| Puchta hai Koi Dunia me Mohabbat hai kaha
Muskura deta hu mai or yaad aa jati hai Maa ||


Sulane ke lie mujhko to khud jaagi rahi amma
Sirrhane der tak aksar meri baithi rahi amma
Mere sapno me pariya phul titli bhi tabhi tak the
Mujhe aanchal me apne le ke jab leti rahi amma ||

Badi choti rakam se ghar chalana jaanti thi maa
Kami thi par badi khusiya lutana jaanti thi maa
Mai khushhaali me bhi rishto me bas duri bana paya
Garibi me bhi har rishta nibhana jaanti thi maa

Laga bachpan me yu andhera hi mukaddar hai
Magar maa hausala dekar yu boli tumko kya dar hai
Koi aage niklne ke lie rashta nahi dega
Mere baccho badho aage tumhare saath hai amma

Kisi ke jakhm ye dunia to ab silti nahi amma
Kali dil me ab to preet ki khilti nahi amma
Mai apanapan hi akshar dhundta rahta hu rishto me
Teri nischal si mamta to kahi milti nahi amma

Gamo ki bheed me jisne hume hasna sikhaya tha
Wo jiske dam se tufanoo ne apna sar jhukaya tha
Kisi v julm ke aage kabhi jhukna nahi bete
Sitam ki ummr choti hai mujhe maa ne sikhaya tha || ||
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
Web- skdisro.weebly.com
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
Lance Cecilia Jan 2016
Nilaliman ko ang hawak ko sa bulsa, wala na nga pala 'kong pera.
Mabilis akong naglakad patungo sa bughaw na sasakyan ko. 'Di ko ininda ang pabugso-bugsong ulan at bulong ng mahapding hangin. Bumubulwak ang tubig mula sa kanal at magiting na dinadaan ang palusong na kalsada papunta sa gusali.

Nilaliman ko ang hawak ko sa bulsa, at natuklasang wala ang susi ng kotse.

Matagal-tagal na rin akong nag-aaral sa lumang gusali ng Biology sa UP. Pangatlong taon ko na. Sa wakas, magtatapos din ako.
At saka mag-aaral ng medisina.
Unang girlfriend ko si Kaye, at napakahaba ng aming kwento. Nagkakilala kami noong bakasyon sa pagitan ng aking ikalawa at ikatlong taon sa mataas na paaralan. Hindi siya ang una kong babaeng nagustuhan.
Pero siya ang una kong minahal.
Nagsimula ang lahat sa aming pagiging magkaibigan, at nang lumaon, nahulog ako para sa kanya.
Alam kong mali yun, kasi may gusto siyang iba at may napupusuan din ako noon.

Pero binago niya ang lahat. Naging matalik kaming magkaibigan, hanggang sa ayun, nagkaaminan.
Walang nag-akalang magiging kami.
Nilaliman kong muli ang hawak sa bulsa. At saka pumanhik sa gusali, papunta sa aking silid.
Natagpuan ang susi ng kotse, sira, putol, puro gasgas at tila nabagsakan ng mabigat na bagay.
Badtrip, sabi ko.
Magko-commute ba na naman ako?
'Di nagtagal, nakaisip ako ng paraan.
Pinapunta ko si Kaye, total, may kotse naman siya.
Dumating si Kaye sa silid nang may malaking ngiti, isang ngiting tagumpay sa volleyball.
Bakas pa sa kanyang mga braso ang bakat ng tama ng bola ng volleyball. Namumula, pagod na pagod.

'Yun ang huling alaala ko.

Sabi ng doktor, nag-shutdown daw ang utak ko buhat ng matinding pagod, at nagkaroon ako ng amnesia.
Ayon sa kalendaryong iniabot sa'kin, humigit-kumulang 30 taong gulang na ako.
Wala akong ibang maalala kundi ang alala sa gusali ng Biochemistry.

Nilaliman ko ang hawak sa bulsa. Hinimas ko nang todo ang lalagyan, hinipo ang bawat sulok ng aking bulsa. Nakapa ko ang isang pirasong papel.

Dear Lorry,
Mahal kita.
Pero may mahal na 'kong iba.

Yun lang? Yun lang ba? Tapos na?
May nagawa ba 'kong masama?
Tiningnan ko ang aking mga braso.
Bakas pa rito ang mga bakat ng kutsilyo, namumula, puro peklat.
Sabi ng doktor, may suicidal tendencies daw ako. Aba pakialam niya!

Pumasok si Kaye sa aking kuwarto sa ospital. Hawak niya ang braso ng isang lalaki.

Doon ko lang napansin ang kuwarto ng aking tinutuluyan.
Puno ng sulat ang mga pader. Puno rin ng mga nagsasanay na nars at doktor, at pilit na iniintindi ang reklamo ng mga pasyenteng nakadungaw sa nakaidlip nilang kalawakan.

Hindi ko na kaya.
Ganoon na lang ba ang halaga ko kay Kaye, na ganun niya ako papalitan?

Kinuha ko ang bolpeng nakatengga sa mesang malapit sakin. 'Di ko na pinansin ang kirot ng IV at mga kung anu-ano pang nakasuksok na gamot saking sumusubok na pagalingin ang mas lalong sumasakit, kumikirot na kalagayan.
Isang 'di magamot na sakit ng damdamin, isang kirot na bumubulwak mula sa kanal na pinagdadaluyan ng aking pagmamahal.

Pagmamahal para sa babaeng nakita kong hawak ang braso ng isang lalaking 'di man lang ipinakilala sakin para man lang mapawi ang uhaw ko para mapasaya si Kaye.

Tinutok ko ang bolpen sa aking sarili.
Pinagsasaksak ko ang sar-
Vladimir Lionter May 2020
I
Colonel Zaev(1), our commander,
Lived seventeen years in Angolian land.
There are no Luanda’s(2) experts better
Than him- he met its ambassadors two hundred
Times. He smashed UNITA(3) and weakened SAR’s (4)
Power. He supported Fidel Castro(5)
And he became famous for counter-attacks.
The Angolians call him Victor-Pastor:
He does always set the young on the right path:
Aoi!

II
Roberto Holden6 was the foe of Neto
He was a monarcho-tribolist.
And he happened to declare vendetta
To foes. His aim’s to banish socialists.
He invited China’s instructors to teach his
Soldiers the skill of fighting retreating under
Kifangondo(7), he’d not swiftly yield positions
Colonel Callan(8) retreated farther
With him. He was a cruel and fearless
Rascal, he was good at arranging ambush in
Woods. He fought hand-to-hand many times
But he was taken prisoner by the Guard
He declared political indifference but the court
To his grief didn’t believe him so that
Then he was quickly and publicly shot.
Aoi!

III
Savimbi Jonas(9) continued that war
Robin Holden quitted his Motherland –
It’s hard to revise views. What’s to be done for
Tearing a half away for his Fatherland?
He went to America, got a Baptist,
As preacher – he was the lost’s lecturer.
He didn’t wish just to be a pessimist
He wanted to live till times more fair.
Savimbi Jonas founded UNITA –
He made up his mind to go underground
MPLA’s detachments were defeated
By the Cubans but they were free quite
For diversions in the city. A new spiral
Of resistance began – two ideologies’
Confrontation took place and in final
It did cost life to many people for this.
Aoi!

IV
Our Victor Zaev, the commander
Of marines often trained us tirelessly
And all of us were not up to laughter
In gas-masks. We loaded incessantly
Our guns, we crossed the equator, anyway
In a moment Poseidon glorifying
By recompense. We stuck to the right fairway,
Neptun’s Day(10) became a great undertaking.
Aoi!

V
Coming to Luanda was usual rather,
The port’s scenery was bright, beautiful.
“Well, beauty!” exclaimed Igor, a warrant officer,
Zaev added: “It’s, brothers, very wonderful!”
Our councilor climbed up a deck as
Head of the Soviet military legation
He tried to explain the situation to us
Continuous seemed to be his Head’s duration.
Then the Cubans’ crew met us, their commander,
Did happen to know Russian at his fingers’
End. He valued the bearing of our landing
Force. And he was called Francisco Ortis.
Aoi!

VI
Here Agostino Neto came with
His suite consisting of twelve grandees
The President was cordial and gay. This
Day was marvellously fine, in his
Speech he praised the ******’s guard arranged
To meet him. He’d not fail to give his regiment
For it. “What an array!” admired said
Antonio. And at this moment
Tanks floated forward out of the hold
To display Agostino manoeures
Antonio began to sweat: old
Allies can always surprise friends, of course.
The Angolians were invited to dinner
And contented officials were standing
But “No!” was Neto’s serious answer,
“We should return for the fight’s resuming!”
Aoi!

VII
We reached Kanton on cruisers. A warrant
Officer cried: “Sound urgently bells”
The Angolians didn’t let us on to the port,
We anchored no outer roads. What was else?
Mattheu Kureku visited us then.
The President of far mountains of Benin,
And we’d appreciate his being of those men
Who were as modest as Ibn- Sina.
We displayed him gifts and even more
Than we wanted: hand- to- hand fight,
The landing force’s landing to the shore.
Mattheu said us his warm good- bye after that.
Aoi!

VIII
Soon we headed for Luanda, how
Long an action had been fought in its suburbs
And suddenly we saw a fishing scow
Six fisher- men were rowing in the ocean’s
Water catching the sight of us they began
To row faster knots increasing as
If punishment waited them but the race did happen
To be transitory. But cruisors’ powers
Are not boats’ powers equal and at last
We caught them, their fish fell to our lot.
The fish’ reserves were enough for a month.
We said with thankfulness: “Thank you a lot!”
The meeting was pleasant for them and us.
Aoi!

IX
Suddenly came order of the day:
To bring in an identification prisoner. Stas
A secrete service man, volunteered. Anyway,
His own fist was of the bull’s head’s size.
And Grigory, head naval petty officer
Then did volunteer to follow Stas.
“Well, who is else?” were the sailors asked after
It. Silence. It’s better to live on deck. At last,
Watching this the captain himself intervened
In it. His bas was heard even in far hold: “Oh,
You, cowards, I’ll feed you to whales, mind it!”
And phrases were not necessary any more.
Thus six more sailors gathered together – they were
Superheroes as if they were handpicked
The detachment of sound, strong men. Chernomor
Himself would take them so quick-witted.
There are not more safe people in the fleet,
There were not, there won’t be, indeed!
Aoi!

X
Here the scouts came down from the deck and they
All went so deep into a foreign land
A hundred verst’s was their sailing away
From the port. Ships from their Motherland
Were seen. Their commander
was the major lieutenant
And he said: “Motherland is calling us!”
In the fleet he was just called Kostya Brandt –
He did lead the scouts bravely forwards!
Aoi!

XI
The detachment marched into woods being dense,
The jungle were rustling around Luanda. It
Was raining cats and dogs, there was entrance
There, there was no exit for retreat!
They covered their necessary ten versts
More on that day they heard their foes’ voices.
They thought: it’s, perhaps, one of hostile posts.
A good luck attended them! The members
Of UNITA waited for them ahead
Savimba knew of Brandt’s group so dare –
Devil. He was warned by an Angolian friend,
The general had friends everywhere.
Aoi!

XII
Even Kostya Brandt didn’t know it
And he led his vanguard through a marshy path
Sailors were like brothers in the detachment.
Everybody was ready to sacrifice
Himself! And suddenly they saw in front:
Tents standing in forty meters from them and
And something went pit- a pat in Kostya Brandt
And he stretched his hand to a pistol hard.
They stole up to the last one, went into it:
It was empty, there were only playing- cards
There: and perhaps it seemed to them far, indeed?
On the ground there were three machine-guns.
Aoi!

XIII
Meanwhile Savimbi Jonas gathered troops
And he made such a speech when warriors gathered
Together: “We’ll die for freedom as heroes
We do not want another Motherland!
We will repulse all the Cuban occupants
We’ve recently sacked all the colonists!
The Soviet landing force’s scouts
Are going here. Near are the communists!
We’ll organize ambush for them behind the tent –
I’m sure they will go into it a at once.
I was informed that there are less than ten
Of them. We’ll **** the foes at once
We’ ll win because there are much more of us”
And selecting one hundred and forty men,
The strongest ones, Savimbi encircled the scouts.
Aoi!

XIV
“Well, that’s all, forward”, Kostya said strictly
The tent’s bed- curtains having half- opened
By his hand. But suddenly he was slightly
Taken aback- he saw foes get in his road
And he did cry: “We shall die for Russia-
Not disgracing ancestors or the Motherland!”
He stepped forward like a sent messia
He had no right to run away like a coward.
Aoi!

XV
Ours defended each other by backs hard
The battle was hot as it was hand- to- hand.
Two sides’ supporters did not know fright
This region was home for the partisans. And
Brandt fought as an ancient lion Neimeyan –
No pistols’ bullets could reach him at all.
He was a mighty, stately warrior European –
UNITA’s terror and poets’ idol!
The partisans had also a strong warrior –
He was called Manuel by Luanda’s citizens
When hunting he became a hero of yore –
He could hit varios marks without miss.
He took aim at the lieutenant’s back so that
A sharp bullet could pierce his heart. He pressed
The sear. And it did hurt Konstantin and
Shroud overshadowed his consciousness
And a celestial disk burning low, meciless
It’s opening a picture before his eyes:
His own mother’s meeting him and he is
Whispering her: “Mum, I’m going to the skies ”
And fell onto the ground Kostya breathless:
People’s blood was shed as the river around
But ours fought desiring nevertheless
To be gone with foes in the palace. Wounded
Stas’ll hit and three of them’ll fall without
Life’s signs. When he hits on the right–eight
Of them’ll fall at once although there are a few
Epic heroes all of them are heroes dead.
The dead can’t be responsible anew.
Aoi!

XVI
They all were dead. There were
three times more foes
Ours and UNITA collected the dead.
And that very day happened to be worth
A week. Bitter news of blood that was shed
Killed us. Our ship was anchored for five days more
We covered Cuban troops from the sea there.
On the sixth day we sailed from the shore,
Painful grief left an after- taste in their
Mouths. And Victor Zaev, our bold
Colonel, was silent in painful sadness,
He had done the last deed for the dead of old.
He presented them with rewards: “For service”
Putting them on each of coffins. All the ******
Were standing being in their low spirits.
Aoi!

XVII
Thus the song of Luanda came to an end
We paid our duty to military Motherland.
We’d drawn up and the commander said:
“Fine fellows! I wish your life to be quiet!”
Then he sailed not a little, I must say.
He waged war in seven companies. “Glory!”
Cry we to him in Navy Day today.
That is the end of the Luandian story.
Aoi!
The Civil war in Angola represented armed confrontation between
quarelling with each other groups: MPLA (People’s movement for
Angola’s liberation, the Labour’s Party), (port.Movimento Popular de
Liberaçao de Angola- Partido de Trabajo, MPLA), UNITA (port. Uniao
Nacional para a Independencia, Total de Angola, UNITA). The war began
in 1975.
1.Victor Zaev is the main hero of the given poetical work, he is an
invented personage;
2. Luanda (port. Luanda)- Angola’s capital;
3. UNITA – see above;
4. SAR – South African Republic;
5. Fidel Castro – Fidel Alejandro Castro Rus; he was born in August,
13, 1926; Biran, province Oriente , Cuba. He’s a Cuban revolutionary,
party and political figure, Chairman of Ministers’ Council and Chairman
of the State Council of Cuba (president) in 1959- 2008 and 1976- 2008.
6. Roberto Holden- Holden Alvaro Alberto (port. Holden Roberto;
January, 12, 1923, Mbanza- Kongo(its former name is San- Salvadordu- Kongo)- August,2, 2007, Luanda). He was also Jose Gilmore, an Angolian founder and many- year leader of the National Liberation’s Front (FNLA). An active participant of the war for Independence and of the Civil war in Angola. He’s a conservative monarcho-tribolist, anticommunist.
He was a member of the Angolian Parliament.
7. “…under Kirfangongondo…” – this battle was from October, 23
until November,10, 1975 in Angola. It was the first common victory of MPLA and the Cubans.
8. the colonel Kallen… – he is also “colonel Callan, a British service
man, corporal of parachute troops’ regiment’s corporal.” He’s an ethnic
Greek and Cypriot (Greek. Kώozaç Γιώργιoν). He’s a participant of the
Angolian’s Civil war, on FNLA’s side. He was executed according to the
court’s sentence in Luanda, on July,10, 1976.
9. Savimbi Jonas Maiheiro, (August, 3, 1934- February, 22, 2002),
an Angolian political and military figure, a partisan leader, the rebel
movement’s founder and the political Party UNITA’s founder from
March,13, 1966 to February, 22, 2002. He was an active participant of the
Angolian war for independence and of the Civil war. He was candidate
for President in Angolian elections in 1992. He was a prominent figure
of Cold War and world anti- communist movement.
10 Neptun’s Day-Nepptun’s holiday, sometimes it’s called “Neptun’s
Day”. It’s a water show. Sailors founded this tradition after their crossing
of the equator.

{2018}


ПЕСНЬ
I
Наш командир – полковник Виктор Заев(1)
Семнадцать лет прожил в стране Ангольской.
Страну Луанду(2) он отлично знает –
Встречал раз двести местное посольство.
Разбил УНИТА(3) и ЮАР(4) ослабил,
Поддержку оказал Фиделю Кастро(5)
В контратаках. И себя прославил.
Зовут его ангольцы Виктор-Пастор:
Он молодых советом наставляет.
Аой!

II
Роберто Холден(6) был врагом для Нето –
По убеждению – монархо-трайболистом.
И объявил противникам вендетту,
Поставив цель – изгнать социалистов.
Он пригласил инструкторов Китая
Учить своих солдат уменью драться.
Под Кифангондо(7) в битве отступая,
Он не хотел стремительно сдаваться.
С ним отступал назад полковник Каллэн(8) –
Головорез жестокий, но бесстрашный.
Засады ставил он в лесах умело,
Не раз бывал и лично в рукопашной.
Но был пленён он гвардией. И вскоре
Всем заявил свою аполитичность.
Но не поверил суд ему на горе –
Он был расстрелян быстро и публично.
Аой!

III
Савимби Жонаш(9) ту войну продолжил,
Роберто Холден родину покинул –
Переосмыслить взгляды очень сложно:
Как оторвать Отчизне половину?
В Америку уехал, стал баптистом,
Как проповедник – лектором заблудших.
Он не желал быть просто пессимистом
И до времён хотел дожить до лучших.
Савимби Жонаш основал УНИТА –
Борьбу свою он перевёл в подполье:
Отряды МПЛА кубинцами разбиты,
Но для диверсий в городах – раздолье.
Второй виток пошёл сопротивленья –
Противоборства двух идеологий.
И жизнями платило населенье –
Война тогда коснулась очень многих.
Аой!

IV
Наш Виктор Заев – командир морпехов -
Тренировал нас часто, неустанно:
В противогазах было не до смеха -
Мы заряжали пушки беспрестанно.
Пересекли в один момент экватор,
Прославив Посейдона воздаяньем,
Наш путь лежал на правильный фарватер.
Нептуна день (10) – большое начинанье!
Аой!

V
Приход в Луанду очень был обычным,
Пейзаж портовый – яркий и прекрасный.
«Ну, лепота!» - воскрикнул Игорь-мичман.
Добавил Заев: «Это, братья, классно!»
На палубу советник наш поднялся –
Глава советской миссии военной.
Он обстановку дать нам постарался,
Поскольку был там, кажется, бессменно.
Затем кубинцев встретила команда –
Их командир знал русский в идеале.
Он оценил всю выправку десанта –
Франсиско Ортис команданте звали.
Аой!

VI
Вот Агостиньо Нето подошёл
Со свитою двенадцати вельмож.
Был Президент приветлив и весёл,
И день был удивительно хорош!
Он похвалил матросский караул,
Поставленный наверх его встречать.
«За них бы полк отдать не преминул, –
Антонио сказал, – вот это рать!»
Из трюма танки выплыли вперёд –
Маневры Агостиньо показать.
Антонио пробил холодный пот:
Союзники умеют удивлять!
Ангольцев пригласили на обед –
Чиновники довольные стоят.
Но Нето отвечал серьёзно: «– Нет,
Нам возвращаться надобно назад!»
Аой!

VII
На крейсерах в Катону мы приплыли
И крикнул мичман: «Склянки срочно бейте!»
Но в порт ангольцы нас не пропустили –
На якорь встали мы на внешнем рейде.
Затем нас посетил Матье Куреку –
Сам Президент из дальних гор Бенина –
Заметим в дань ему как человеку –
Он скромен был как мудрый Ибн Сина.
Ему мы показали все таланты –
И даже больше, чем хотели сами:
Бой рукопашный, высадку десанта.
Матье тогда тепло прощался с нами.
Аой!

VIII
И взяли курс мы снова на Луанду –
Велись бои давно в её предместьях.
Вдруг видим мы рыбацкие шаланды –
По океану плыло ровно шесть их.
Завидев нас, они быстрей поплыли,
Узлов прибавив, будто ждёт их кара!
Не долгими, однако, гонки были.
Любая лодка крейсеру не пара!
Догнали их. И нам досталась рыба –
Запасов тех на месяцы хватило.
Сказали мы признательно: «Спасибо!»
И после встречи всем приятно было!
Аой!

IX
Нежданно вдруг пришёл такой приказ:
Любой ценой доставить языка.
Тут вызвался морской разведчик Стас –
Его кулак был с голову быка.
И главный корабельный старшина
Григорий захотел идти за ним.
– «Ну, кто ещё?» – спросили. Тишина.
Уж лучше быть на палубе живым.
Тогда вмешался лично капитан –
Был даже в дальнем трюме слышен бас:
– «Ну, трусы! Всех скормлю сейчас китам!»
И больше не понадобилось фраз.
Так набралось ещё шесть моряков –
Супергерои – все как на подбор –
Отряд здоровых, крепких мужиков.
Их взял бы даже Дядька-Черномор!
Надёжнее людей на флоте нет
И не было, не будет и вовек!
Ушло в разведку восемь человек.
Аой!

X
Вот с палубы разведчики сошли
И углубились в даль чужой земли.
На сотню вёрст от порта отошли –
Уж не видать родные корабли.
Руководил всем старший лейтенант.
И молвил он: «Нас Родина зовёт!»
Его на флоте звали Костя Брандт –
Он храбро вёл разведчиков вперёд!
Аой!

XI
Отряд вступил в дремучие леса –
Вокруг Луанды джунгли шелестят.
Льют воду каждый день тут небеса –
Зашёл туда и нет пути назад!
Прошли они ещё десяток вёрст,
Услышали чужие голоса.
Подумали: возможно, вражий пост –
Счастливая настала полоса!
Унитовцы их ждали впереди.
О группе Брандта сам Савимби знал –
Его ангольский друг предупредил:
Имел везде знакомых генерал.
Аой!

XII
Сего не ведал даже Костя Брандт
И вёл отряд болотистой тропой.
Любой матрос в отряде был как брат.
Готовы все пожертвовать собой!
И вдруг увидел каждый впереди:
Стоят палатки метрах в сорока.
У Кости что-то ёкает в груди
И к пистолету тянется рука.
Подкрались к крайней и в неё зашли:
В палатке пусто, карты на столе –
А может, померещилось вдали?
Три автомата было на земле.
Аой!

XIII
Меж тем собрал Савимби Жонаш войско
И речь сказал собравшимся такую:
– «Мы за свободу все умрём геройски,
Ведь не желаем родину другую!
Дадим отпор кубинским оккупантам –
Прогнали ведь недавно колонистов!
Разведчики советского десанта
Идут сюда. Уж близко коммунисты!
Устроим им засаду за палаткой –
Они войдут в неё, уверен, сразу.
Мне донесли: их менее десятка.
Возьмём числом: врагов положим разом!»
И отобрав сто сорок самых сильных,
Пошёл Савимби окружать разведку.
Аой!

XIV
«– Ну, всё, выходим!» – Костя молвил строго,
Палатки полог приоткрыв рукою.
Но только вдруг... опешил он немного,
Когда врагов увидел пред собою.
И закричал: «Умрём же за Россию –
Не посрамим и предков, и державу!»
Шагнул вперёд, как посланный миссия –
Он не имел бежать позорно право.
Аой!

XV
Стояли наши все спиной друг к другу,
Был жаркий бой, поскольку рукопашный.
Из двух сторон никто не знал испуга –
Для партизан был этот край домашним.
И бился Брандт как древний лев немейский –
Его не брали пули пистолетов!
Могуч и статен воин европейский –
Гроза УНИТА и кумир поэтов!
У партизан был тоже сильный воин –
Его луандцы звали Мануэлем.
Он на охоте сделался героем –
Без промаха стрелял по разным целям.
Прицелился он лейтенанту в спину,
Чтоб сердце пуля острая пробила.
Нажал на спуск. И больно Константину,
И пелена сознание затмила.
И тут картину взору открывает
Небесный диск, на небе догорая:
Родная мать с войны его встречает,
А он ей шепчет: «Мама, умираю…»
Упал на землю Костя бездыханно:
Людская кровь лилась вокруг рекою.
Но бились наши – было им желанно
Нести в чертог жизнь вражью за собою.
Изранен Стас: ударит – лягут трое,
Направо стукнет – лягут сразу восемь.
Богатырей хоть мало, все – герои
Погибшие. А с мёртвых долг не спросят.
Аой!

XVI
Все полегли. Врагов – в три раза больше.
Забрали павших наши и УНИТА.
И день тот был иной недели дольше.
Мы были горькой новостью убиты.
Ещё пять дней на якоре стояли –
Мы части Кубы прикрывали с моря.
На день шестой под вечер отплывали –
Осадок был от тягостного горя.
И Виктор Заев, наш полковник смелый,
Молчал угрюмо в тягостной печали.
Последнее для павших сделал дело –
Он «За отвагу» им вручил медали.
На каждый гроб он положил награду –
Все моряки в унынии стояли.
Аой!

XVII
Так завершилась песня о Луанде.
Отдали долг мы воинский Отчизне.
Наш командир сказал тогда команде:
– «Вы молодцы! Желаю мирной жизни!»
Он по морям потом немало плавал.
И воевал ещё в семи кампаньях.
В день ВМФ кричим ему мы: «Слава!» –
На том конец Луандского сказанья!
Аой!
{31.12.2015}

Гражданская война в Анголе представляла собой вооружён-
ное противостояние между враждующими группировками: МПЛА (Народное движение за освобождение Анголы – Партия труда (порт. Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola — Partido doTrabalho, MPLA), ФНЛА (порт. Frente Nacional de Libertação de Angola,
FNLA) и УНИТА (порт. União Nacional para a Independência
Total de Angola, UNITA). Война началась в 1975 году, а завершилась
в 2002 году.
1. Виктор Заев – главный герой данного поэтического произве-
дения, вымышленный персонаж;
2. Луанда (порт. Luanda) – столица Анголы;
3. УНИТА – см. выше;
4. ЮАР – Южно-Африканская республика
5. Фидель Кастро – Фиде́ль Алеха́ндро Ка́стро Рус (исп. Fidel
Alejandro Castro Ruz; род. 13 августа1926; Биран, провинция Орьенте, Куба) – кубинский революционер, государственный, политический и партийный деятель, который являлся Председателем Совета министров и Председателем Государственного совета Кубы (президентом) в 1959 – 2008 и 1976 – 2008 годах.
6. Роберто Холден – Холден Альваро Робер-
то (порт. Holden Roberto; 12 января 1923, Мбанза-Кон-
го (тогдашнее название – Сан-Сальвадор-ду-Конго) –
2 августа 2007, Луанда), он же Жозе Жилмор (порт.José Gilmore)
– ангольский политик, основатель и многолетний лидер Национального фронта освобождения Анголы (ФНЛА). Активный участник войны за независимость и гражданской войны в Анголе. Консерватор, монархо-трайбалист, антикоммунист. В 1992 – 2007 годах– депутат парламента Анголы.
7. «…под Кифангондо в битве…» – это битва при Кифангондо,
которая произошла с 23 октября по 10 ноября 1975 г. в Анголе и стала первой совместной победой МПЛА и кубинцев.

8. «…полковник Каллэн» – настоящее имя Костас Ге-
оргиу (греч. Κώστας Γιώργιου, англ. Kostas Giorgiou; 1951 –
1976), он же «Полковник Каллэн», Colonel Callan – британский военный, капрал парашютно-десантного полка. Этнический грек-киприот. Наёмный участник гражданской войны в Анголе на стороне ФНЛА. Казнён по приговору суда в Луанде 10 июля 1976 года.
9. Савимби Жонаш – Жо́наш Малье́йру Сави́мби (порт. Jonas
Malheiro Savimbi; 3 августа 1934 – 22 февраля 2002) – ангольский политический и военный деятель, партизанский лидер, основатель повстанческого движения и политической партии УНИТА. Лидер УНИТА c 13 марта 1966 по 22 февраля 2002. Активный участник ангольской войны за независимость и гражданской войны. Кандидат в президенты Анголы на выборах 1992. Видный деятель Холодной
войны и мирового антикоммунистического движения.
10. «Нептуна день…» – Праздник Нептуна, иногда –
«День Нептуна». Водное представление. Берёт основы от тради-
ции моряков при пересечении экватора.

Translator - I. Toporov
Shrivastva MK Jun 2015
Sare jahan se pyara ye hindostan hamara,
Na ruke the hum na rukenge kabhi,
Badhate chale jayenge lekar yahi nara,
Sare jahan se pyara ye hindostan hamara,

Geet gate chalenge, hath milate chalenge,
Raksha karne ka pran lekar hum apna sar katate chalenge,
Na jhukaye the hum, na jhukayenge kabhi
Mita denge khud ko apne desh ke liye yahi hain pran hamara,
Sare jahan se pyara ye hindostan hamara,

Dekhlo ai dusmano hum pith pichhe war karne wale kayar nahi,
Hum sher hain apne desh ka tum jaise kayar nahi,.
Uncha rahega sda ye TINRANGA hamara,
Sare jahan se pyara ye hindostan hamara,

Kaise bhula de wo sahidon ki purani yaadein,
Jinhone khud ko mita di es desh ki suraksha ke liye,
Chhod chale gye wo khun se latfath yaadein,
Etihas ke panno me likhenge dobara,
Vishwa me sabse uper rahega
Ye hindostan hamara,
hindostan hamara......
IT IS DEDICATED FOR ALL FREEDOM FIGHTERS OF INDIA. EVEN THEY ARE NOT ALIVE BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS ALIVE IN MY HEART.
kalpana nayak Jun 2015
Jee aur aieee k sadme k mare ** jte h anjne anokhe unvrsts k hawale,nya clg nya jgh nye dost sb kch hta h nw nw,clg k strtng s hr ksi k dil m hta h rgng ka dar....2nd yr m cnr bnne ka hta h sbko gurur,frnds kai grp m bat jte h,hr koi dkhte h nye luks m,3rd yr m sbko ati h apni jimedari ka ahsas aur fnl yr ata h dston m fasle bdhte h...rah dkhe the is din k kbse,age k sapne saja rkhe the njane kbse,sb bde utavle the yhn se jne ko,zndgi ko dusre trke se dkhne ko....pr njane aj dil m kch aur he ata h,piche ja k waqt ko rok k apne andr sare lmhe ko samet lne ka jee krta h....at d strtng f btech kha krte the bdi muskil s y 4 sal bitenge lkn kse pta tha y sb chd k jne ka mn ni krga...na vulne wali kch yadein reh *** o yadein jo ab jine ka sahara bn ***...na jne aj q un palon k yad bht ati h jin baton ko lekar tab rote the ,aj un palon ko yad kar bht hsi ati h....y sch k ankhein nam ** jte h k mri tang ab kn kncha krga,m apne bton s kska sar khaungi,pranks ksk 7 krngi,ab mjhe kn itna jhlga,ksk smne ntnki krngi,jin dst p lakh kurban whn 1 rupye k ly  kn ldhnge,kaun rat vr bina soye bt krga,kaun bina pche 1 dusre ka chj istml krga,kaun nya nm rkhga,bina ksi bt k m ab ksse ldhungi,bina ks tpc k fal2 bt kn krga,bkws q kn krga,xam k ek din phle o tyri o rate,kn rat var 7 jag kr pdhga,kn fail hne p dilasa dlyga,y hasin pal ab ksk 7 jiungi....yad ati h o rec k choti si cntn bar bar jhn kch v ni mlta mre yar fr v na jane q hum gye hnge so bar...tum jse kmine dost khn mlnge jo khai m v dhaka de ayen sale srs mtr ko v joke m cnvrt kr de,par fr tmhe bachane khud v kud jye....mre hrkton se nakhro se jid s prsan kn hga ,ksk 7 brng lctrs jhlngi..bina mtlb k ksko v dkh kr pglon k trh hsna,na jne y fr kb hga....ky hm y sb fr krpaenge....bdy clbrt,ek h rm p bth k 1 dusre s wtsap p bt krna...rat k 3-4 bje khna pkana....bina ksi mtlb k rat ko chilana....mlk pina...pgl jse hrkt krna..mlk ghumna....kaun mjhe apni kabiliat pr vrosa aur jyda hawa m udne pr zamin p lyga....mre khusi m sch m khus kn hga,mre gam m mjhse jyda dukhi kn hga....keh do doston y dubara kb hga....dil m ek kasak hoti h jb hr ankhein nam hti h,fir mlne k wade se hm ek dusre se juda hte h,kv na akle rhne wle dost bas yadon k sahare zndgi bitate h....lkn jb v y clg k din yad ate h ankhon m hasin aur ansu ek 7 late h...engnr bnne k khusi v ansu rok na pai ,q k njr aa rai t doston s judai...ab jo hna tha o ** gya akhir m sbse juda ** h gye....aj v un palon ko yad kr k ansun rok ni pte h ....nkl he jte h...aur yuhi lkh lkh k apko pka rai hn....char sal yu he gye hmri beet..ab khn mlnge wo dost wo mit...dua krt hn sb k ly race y zndgi k jao tm jit....
I ms my clg clg dys.....
JAMIL HUSSAIN Oct 2016
Unke Dar Pe Pahunchne To Paayein
Yeh Na Poocho Ke Hum Kya Kareinge
Sar Jhukana Agar Jurm Hoga
Ham Nigahon Se Sajda Kareinge

Once I reach the door
Spare me from asking what I will do
If blasphemous it is to prostrate my body
My gaze shall bow at the door


Baat Bhi Teri Rakhni Hai Saqi
Zarf Ko Bhi Na Ruswa Kareinge
Jaam De Ya Na De Aaj Hum Toh
Maikade Mein Sawera Kareinge

I am to keep your words too, O' Cup Bearer
And I cannot offend the cup
Whether or not you serve me tonight
I will meet my dawn at your door


Iss Taraf Apna Daman Jalega
Uss Taraf Unki Mehfil Chalegi
Hum Andhere Ko Ghar Mein Bulaakar
Unke Ghar Mein Ujaala Kareinge

Here, my life will be on fire
And there celebrations will begin at yours
I willingly invite the darkness to my abode
So that brightness may exist at yours


Baat Tarq-e talluq Bhi 'Anwar'
Itna Ehsaa- e-Rasm-e-Wafa Hai
Aakhiri Saans Tak Bhi Hum Unse
Berukhi Ka Na Shikwa Kareinge*

Even after renouncing our relationship O’ Anwar
I am to maintain the ritual of faithfulness
Even unto the last breath
Never will I complain of aloofness


— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Ain Sep 2020
Kadam yaadon ke ghere mein
Mera jab bhi kabhi padta
Woh aalam yaad aata tha
Woh aangan yaad aata tha

Woh dopahar mein gulmohar
Pe chadna yaad aata tha
Gulaabon, phal wa phoolon ka
Mehekna yaad aata tha...

Subah koyal ki ku ku ka
Woh shor o gul tha yaad aata
Agasi par tanhayi ka
Woh kona yaad aata tha

Har ek pal ki kahani thi
Woh dastaanon ka har lamha
Us chaukhat ka har ek paththar
Har zarra yaad aata tha

Falak par hi to hota hai
Tasawwur e irum aksar
Sama ki sar Zameen par tha
Jo "Firdaus" yaad aata tha

Padosi ka sulook e khair
Woh rishta yaad aata tha
Padosi ka hi phir hum par
Nishaana yaad aata tha

Woh kaalapan woh sannata
Woh buu e Raakh ka uthna
Mere armanon ke ghar ka
Jalana yaad aata tha

'Ain' ashq ab behta hai to kya
Mita to yeh nahi sakta
Khalish e qalb ka woh pal
Jo aksar yaad aata tha....
Shrivastva MK Mar 2018
Bachpan ka samay kabhi na lautkar aata ,
Har waqt bus yaadon ka aasma reh jaata ,

Khelte the hum bhi khub dhul ko udel ko,
Maaf kr diye jate hamare sabhi galtiya aur bhul ko,

Jab chaha has lete they ,
Aur jab chaha ro dete they ,

Chhote chhote aankhon me sapne bade hote the,
Na kisi se bair,sare log apne hote the,

Par ab tou aansuo ko chahiye tanhayi ,
Chehre par sirf jhoothi muskaan hai chhayi ,

Zindagi ki tapish mein kab bachpan guzar gaya ,
Kab bachhe se bade ** gye zindagi ki daur mein nazar hi nahi aaya ,


Kya din they chalate they baarish mein nao 
Ab khud ko chupane ke liye sochtey hain kha jao,
 
Na kuch paane ki aasha thi or na kuch khone ka drrrr,
Mast rehte they jaha apni hi dhun idhar udhar,

Koi lauta de bachpan ka sawan
Fir se mehak jayega mere dil ka aangan ,


Khelte they khilone se aaj khud khilona ban gaye ,
Bachpan ke sunhere pal na jaane kha kho gaye,

Maa se lipatne ke  bahane bnate,
Maa ke aanchal ke chav me hi so jate,

Chhote se kadam se saitaniya bde karte the,
Papa Ki pyari daat pr bhi ro dete the,

Jab bhi rota mai,Maa apne sine se laga leti thi,
Sahlake haath sar pr mere muskura deti thi,

Maa ka dudh jaise amrit ka pyala tha,
Sach me hamara bachpan bahut hi nirala tha,

Amrit ka Ek ghut pi kar bhi khush ** jate the,
Duniya ka sabse bda sukh maa ke aanchal me hi pate the,

Yaad hai hume wo khubsurat bachpan ke pal,
Muskura dete hum jab bhi yaad aate wo sunhare bite kal........

4th collab. Poem composed by
Sonia Paruthi & Manish Shrivastva
For sonia Paruthi creations visit
Hellopoetry.com/SoniaParuthi
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Strange Currents
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

O Khusrow, the river of love
creates strange currents:
the one who would surface invariably drowns,
while the one who surrenders, survives.

There are a number of translations of this poem, and they all involve some degree of interpretation. I can't claim that my interpretation is "correct" and sometimes poets are intentionally ambiguous. I based my translation on this explanation by Madhu Singh: “Ubhra-Floats: He who floats actually sinks (is lost) & and he who drowns actually reaches the other side (gets salvation).” In other words, one must stop struggling and surrender to the river of love. And this makes more sense to me than some of the other translations do.

###

Becoming One
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I have become you, as you have become me;
I am your body, you my Essence.
Now no one can ever say
that you are someone else,
or that I am anything less than your Presence!

###

I Am a Pagan
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I am a pagan disciple of love: I need no creeds.
My every vein has become taut, like a tuned wire.
I do not need the Brahman's girdle.
Leave my bedside, ignorant physician!
The only cure for love is the sight of the patient's beloved:
there is no other medicine he needs!
If our boat lacks a pilot, let there be none:
we have god in our midst: we do not fear the sea!
The people say Khusrow worships idols:
True! True! But he does not need other people's approval;
he does not need the world's.

*****-e-ishqam musalmani mara darkaar neest
Har rag-e mun taar gashta hajat-e zunnaar neest;
Az sar-e baaleen-e mun bar khez ay naadaan tabeeb
Dard mand-e ishq ra daroo bajuz deedaar neest;
Nakhuda dar kashti-e maagar nabashad go mubaash
Makhuda daareem mara nakhuda darkaar neest;
Khalq mi goyad ki Khusrau but parasti mi kunad
Aarey aarey mi kunam ba khalq mara kaar neest.

###

Amir Khusrow’s elegy for his mother
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Wherever you shook the dust from your feet
is my relic of paradise!

###

Paradise
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

If there is an earthly paradise,
It is here! It is here! It is here!

Amir Khusrow (or Khusro) was born in 1253 A.D. in Patiyala, India, His paternal ancestors belonged to the nomadic tribe of Hazaras. Khusrow called himself an Indian Turk (Turk-e-Hind). He was a Sufi mystic, musician, poet, composer and scholar who wrote in Persian (Farsi) and Hindavi (Hindi-Urdu). Khusrow has been called the “Voice of India” and the “Father of Urdu literature.” He introduced the ghazal to India and made significant contributions to its development. He also wrote in other musical and verse forms, including qawwali, masnavi, qata, rubai, do-baiti and tarkib-band.? Keywords/Tags: Amir Khusrow, Khusro, India, Urdu, Hindi, Farsi, Sufi, ghazal, love
Pankaj Thakur Sep 2017
"Hawa sang chalna seekh gayi **,"
Thora pankh faila udna bhi seekh jaoge,
Jra azma ke deakh khud ko,
Zindgi ka matlab seekh jaoge.
Khush hoon jaan ke tum logon ko,
Padna seekh gyi **...

Thodi himmat rakh ,
Honsle ke kami nahi tujh me,
Sar utha ke chala kro,
Tumhe darna nahi kisi se..

Tum bholi si nanhi si,
Payari si thi,
Mma papa ki gudiya dulari si thi,
Ankhon main anshoo a jate unki,
Jab tum rote rote so jaati,
Unki ladli payari si tum...

Na jaane kab unki gudiya badi ** gayi,
Unhe pata bhi na chala,
Jiin hathon main kheli  unhi se
vida ** ke chal bhi bdi...

Kya hi zindgi tumhe mili hai,
kuch pal rahi mma papa sang,
Begane aye tujhe le gye,
Tere mma papa ko anshoo de gye...

Hansti kehlti papa ke dil ka taara thi tum,
Kuch khelne ko na hota,
To papa ki peeth ki sawari thi tum...

Papa ki beti aaj badi ** gayi hai,
Kl thak jo roti lagti nanhi si,
Bechari si thi ,
Aaj mma ki vo ladli sayani ban gayi hai...

Gairon ko rehne de,
Papa ka sar na jhukana kabhi,
Bde laad payar se rakha hai tujhe,
kabhi rulana na unhe...

BEti tu lout ke jaldi aana
tera intazar rahega,
Teri maa royi to main sambhal lunga,
Par tere papa roye to.
tere siva koi chup karvane nahi ayega...
Ankit Dubey May 2019
Tum bheegna chahti thi baarish me hanth me hanth pakadkar,
Tum aana chahti thi jindagi me meri khushi bankar,
Chahti thi tum kabhi k mai tumoo baahon me bhar loo,
Sona chahti thi tum mere seene pe sar rakh kar,
Kha tumne hi ek din tha k tham lo haanth tum mera jindagi bhar k liye,
Mujhe bas apna bana lo tum aane vaale har pal k liye,
Har baar dil ko mere sunahre sapnr dikhaye tumne,
Kabhi mere haanthon ko choomkar to kabhi hanthon me haanth pakadkar,
Inkar tumko bhi nahi tha k tumhe mujhse mohabbat hai,
Sirf mujhko hi nahi tumhe bhi mujhse utni hi mohabbat hai,
Tumhar bhi kabhi khwahish thi k baal sanwaroo mai tumhare,
Ungliyon se pajadkar kaan k paas le jaaun sare,
Saath bitayen jindagi baant le har muskurahat aur ansoo aapas me hi saare,
Magar tanha is dil ko ehsaas hua jab toota ye sapna,
Meri khatao se rooth kar rukh mod liya  tumne jab apna,
Ab na baaki rah gayi jafa koi,
Tumhe vaapas bulane ki,
Tum mujhse door ** gayi ** chahat todkar apni,
Tum mujhse rooth jati ** ku vaade bhoolkar sare,
Ijaajat tumne hi di thi tumko satane ki,
Satata aaj b nahu hu,
Khata fir bhi ** jaati hai,
Chalo ek baar aa jao,
Na mujhse door tum jao,
Gunah mere kiye saare ,
Bhulakar dil ki ranjish ko paas aa jao tum mere,
Samajh jao dil ki tadpan ko nigahen mujhse na fero,
Aaajao is baar pyaar me kar le milkar k vaade sare poore,
Jo meri nasamjhi se abhi tak rah gaye adhoore,
Paas tum aa jao mere paas tum aa jao mere,
Ek tum hi to ** meri koi aur nahi kareeb shiva ek pyaar k tere.
I love u
Juwayriya Sep 2021
Khwaab dekho.
Khuli aankhon se ya band, fark nahin.

Khwaab humein kahan se kahan leja chhodti hai.
Jo kabhi dekha nahin woh dikha deti hai.
Jis cheez ko kabhi chhua na **, use bhi mehsoos karwa deti hai.

Kabhi paseene mein bheega jagaati hai,
toh kabhi apni ulfat se gaalon ko laal kar deti hai.

Cheekh kar uthaa hai koi toh koi muskuraate.

Koi toh khatam hone ka naam nahin leta.
Kisi ke beech mein kat jaane ka gila hai rehta.

Mujhe toh hamesha khatam hone ka intezaar hi raha ------ uske aane tak.
Bura dekha, bura jaana, bure ne ghere rakha ab tak.

Mein ne seene par sar rakha,
phir usne mere haath par apna bada magar narm haath rakha.

Usko meri nazuk lambi ungliyon se khelna achha laga.
Mujhe mohabbat jatane ka yeh tareeqa uska achha laga.

Aankh khuli.

Pehli dafa kaanp kar nahin sharmakar jagi.
Sukoon toh tha.
Par gila bhi raha.
Phir socha,
khwaab itne bhi bure nahin.

Toh khwaab dekho.
Kuch rehne do.
Kuch poore karo.
Sk Abdul Aziz Dec 2015
Woh bhi kya din thay
Kya thi woh raatay
Hoti thi kitni baatay
Hoti thi kitni mulaqaatay
Na kisi cheez ki parwa thi
Na tha koi darr
Rangeen hoti thi shaamay
Raatoy ko sota tha tumharay kandhay pay rakhkar sar
Ab na woh waqt raha
Na raha ** mahol
Ab kissay guftagu karoon
Ay meri tanhai..tu hi bol
(Urdu and Hindi)

English translation

What days those were
What nights were those
There used to be so many conversations
There used to be so many meetings
We didn't care about nothing
Neither was there any fear
The evenings used to be colourful
In the nights i used to sleep resting my head on your shoulders
Today that time doesn't exist
Neither does that atmosphere
Now with whom do i have a conversation
Oh my loneliness...you only tell
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
got these ideas while reading a opinion column, about how Mossad employed the die-hard SS spy after the war, a herr otto skorzeny (what a pretty "german" surname, anyone mention the former french president monsieur Sarkozy? let the syllable cutting-up dance appear: sar - ko'h - zee, or, sar - cosy, something like that... so they ****** the middle men, the butchers and the clerks... but got hold of the sly shadows without bodies but minds.

thus the ideas, i call them a necessary parallelism,
i can't claim them to be a duality,
this whole evolution / adaptation process...
by eating the fruit of knowledge what was awoken
among man was: well, **** being a vegetarian!
darwinism and the big bang theory don't work
suitably (together), they contradict...
the former delves into history
with some sensible estimate in the thousands of
years... the latter delves into no history,
well imagine your everyday monday through
to friday and some ******* physicists
stating facts like: billions of years ago,
in a galaxy far far away...
what the species **** sapiens is doing is creating
what it thought unnecessary beside itself,
no, forget man evolving from monkey,
you're looking at it as a progression,
the actual pop picture doesn't read like
western man reading from left to write, as a progress,
it reads inwards / upwards like chinese, so:

hominid primates | **** habilis **** erectus neanderthals -
     (kept them)            (genocide via **** sapiens
                                           to extinction                          etc.)

indeed, by us, **** "sapiens", more like **** insapiens,
we killed the ******* off, kept the large diversity of
monkeys because they were all vegetarians,
the whole march of progress is so so ****** demeaning,
we kept the overly furry humanoids for a reason,
we didn't fear them, they had no primitive methods
of hunting... we feared the lesser furred because of our
nakedness and our need to unearth raw materials...
but once we killed the species mediating us
and monkey we turned into **** insapiens,
a weird breed of our former entitlements as ****
sapiens... we wanted agriculture and an effective
mass slaughter of animals for wasted food
via exponential provisions, they retained a sense
of environment, we didn't...
the march of progress is *******,
Leonardo da Vinci is cursing you right now...
'so now you want me to reconstruct my ******
features, flatten my nose, grow hairs outside
the realm my armpits, just so you can make
a "march of progress"?'
*******... seriously... evolutionary biologists
are like teenagers and their experience of
puberty... "oh i dunno, i dunno why",
i mean, you heard about the genocide of the hobbits,
**** floresiensis*?
i need to stress parallelism within darwinism,
i see no dualism... no left to right,
just from up to down, the segregation of nations;
it's demeaning to the acrobats as agile as monkeys
on trees to call them a post-construct primate;
we killed the ******* off, one by one,
because they weren't vegetarians as monkeys...
but in so doing, i wonder why we thought
they'd attack us... since now man attacks man,
**** sapiens, killing off the breeds in
between those resembling a monkey
and himself, has indeed "evolved",
by creating **** insapiens - and this
breed is not going anywhere,
it's the breed above man... which involves the
need to over-breed - because of the resolute
karma of the genocide done to these humanoid
in-between species... we desperately wanted a garden...
now the garden is sort of: ah, mm, maybe,
have a tsunami - engage in conversations about
conservationism of endangered species...
while some madman comes along and slaughters
about twenty people, with satan's encouraging
quote: 'i'm like a god.'
no wonder we're sort of, say, educating people
into a stupidity, i know, a crude word,
but why would anyone need to learn the Pythagoras
theory in the 21st century? mind you, it was
a catholic school... but we're recreating
these humanoids in ourselves through guilt...
and these guilt ridden "replicas" are there for
**** insapiens to slaughter like we slaughtered
the species that resembled a half-way point between
us and monkeys... we really didn't like that...
Darwin's theory of evolution... is just a nice way of
putting it, esp. in drawing -
and by killing the humanoids due to a jealousy
of their primitive prowess or a natural advantage
we created new humanoids through ourselves,
i mean, all those deformities of syndromes...
we were thieves rather than gods - indeed the original
intent of the sacred temptation from the lizard epoch
was to be taught by the ancients, via the remnant of
lizard limbs abstracted into a slithering spine...
we were the ones in ordeal of the highest insecurity,
so ardently expressed now, among so many.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
what's this st-st-st-stuttering? i know you revealed an acute consonant combination, but you didn't have to ensure it doesn't exist - i am familiar with the way humanity doesn't need theological crutches, and wants to go at it alone, but sometimes an individual example of a human begs the question of God - look at than Blue Indian language, it has plenty of hatches that are nothing but dead-end corridors (h t'chess) - ghee - for example, the h is inserted for aesthetic reasons, not phonetic reasons - alpha bravo, alpha bravo, come in alpha bravo! romeo, over! and the theory of stuttering goes along the way: consonants primarily, definite sounds, like the articles - they hide him in the most obvious places, for aesthetic purposes he's there, but when spoke of, completely silenced.

*******...

one - why say tsar and not say gnome?
in England you don't say 'sar like you might
say 'nome - or 'nosis (gnosis) - nose-dive on this -
γνῶσις - again, why would the Greeks add
diacritical marks and the English haven't?
too busy up a monkey's *** crack for all i know -
doggy dodging the debate -
leave dialectics like a derelict house and
soon enough everyone becomes so
opinionated that it's hard to discuss any
opinion, given the defences of the person
ideally suited for politics -
Channel Four daytime t.v.? scarier than
any horror movie - *come dine with me
;
but still, while st-st-stutter with the other
form of grapheme ts and not with the grapheme
gn? it's perfectly suited given the
original graphemes æ and œ -
you say agnostic perfectly, but when it comes
to gnosis people cut the g off and never bother
with the rule they apply to ts when a wet drum kit
snare if hit for hot when uttering the word
tsar.

two - the incident of a 91-year old woman in
Berlin, in a gallery, oldie had the chuckles
doing this one -
did graffiti on a £67,000 work of art with a biro,
reading-work-piece,
a 1977 work by Arthur Köpcke of the Fluxus
movement - prompted by the "artist's" instructions:
insert words - granny did goo goo good -
that's how i see Hebrew -
a perfect twin image - Hebrew, apart from the
two Adams (aleph and ayin) is a bit like a crossword,
vowels are only inserted for a Bar Mitzvah of
practising Kabbalah - perfect'oh comparison -
and you begin to wonder, why didn't the Hebrew
have a pronounced E if they had an A?
after all the sacred name has Adam and Eve to
imprison - which is why it'd explain
Islamic niqab - hidden from sight.

apologies for a telegram style of writing -
i have to make dinner, take pictures of flowers,
water the garden, trim my beard, wash myself
and then ******* to see a ballet of Don Quixote -
you get the picture.
In the crisp of morning, does edge of rest approach. For in the tents of great men do the warriors awaken in preparation for battle.

Sharpening their swords, fortifying their shields, girding their spears and dawning their armours - a crest for honour. Though amid the steadiness, do they await the word of their beloved monach.

"Sar-Shalom!" be the cries heard, echoeing upon the voices of the wind. Reaching even beyond the battlefields. The name of the monach, adored by the great men, anticipating the words to come.

Alas, wisdom comes on the voice of the wind: "In the vallies, will you victories come". Bewildered they stood, asking themselves "why?" But, their monach adorned in their love does their loyalty stand.

So, to the vallies do they march. Upon the word do they stand, anticipation honoured by their trust. For a hard battle will they fight, yet a grand victory will they know - a relief from their beloved.

From the peaks do they descend, and to the vallies do they arrive. The battlefield marked for honour by their seeing eyes;
Unsheathing are they ready, for the accusers come - but unexpecting are they, for the assurance declared in the meeting of blades.

The divines surrounding their accusers, is the battle endorsed for the victors. As they cut down even their final Goliaths. In the praises given up on the voices of the wind, does Sar-Shalom hear the chants - His great men, now the victories of Eden.

Now the journey do they cherish, in returning to their home. The tents of great men, now victories on the heights. What more shall be done? But to sing in glee. For the enemies borders are lost in the restoring victory.

Their wounds shall heal, and bruises shall fade, but the songs of glee shall ring out through time, eternal;
Oh, the voices of the winds chant forever "Victory in the Vallies!"
Meray wajud main yun mera yar raqsan hay
Kay jaisay shukh faseelon pa piar raqsan hay
Nazar hay jati jahan pa wohan hay wo mujod
Kay kis tara say chaman main baharraqsan hay
Jo bhar kay dekha usay ab naheen hay apni khabr
Magr nashay main hon main tar tar raqsan hay
Jo sar main suda samaya watan parasti ka
Hazar rah may ab dekho dar raqsan hay
Na jalti ankhain jalao ka buj na jain kaheen
Ka meri aankhon main bus intizar raqsan hay
Hazar rang ma hay husn piar yak ranga
Ka rang rang main bus ik hisar raqsan hay
Mai Mehr la gia bazi wo ** *** meri
Ka meray charon taraf purdadar raqsan hay

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow
CRH Apr 2013
You once told me sarsaparilla
was your favorite word.
I always thought it was a novel choice,
but I suppose I see the appeal of a word
with such delicious lightness.
And a crisp, definite end.
The word does not wander or linger,
but it simply concludes.
A final 'a'.
So many syllables for
a moderate number of letters, really.
They do not stumble over each other
but rather bubble softly,
bumping each other softly,
nonthreatening and soft.
As if just to make sure
the others are still there.
Comforted by what they find
they sink back into their place in line.
Sar-sa-pa-ril-a
The lazy sprawl of a word
that understands the importance
of understatement
and subtle complexity.
The silent letters
promising to keep our secrets safe
locked in with a whisper
only a word like this can offer.
See, Is?  I told you I wrote a poem about your favorite word :)
Samraat Anand Sep 2017
TERE DIL ME RAHNE KA SHAUK THA HAMEE BETAHASHA ;

TERE SATH KII IS DIL KOO TALAB THI;

TERE LABH SE KUD KA NAAM SUNNE KA ZID THA…

TU ZINDAGI TOH PAHLE SEE THI MERI;

AUR SHYAD AB ZEENE KA KARAN BHI HOO *** …



CHAH KAR BHI TERE KARIB AANE SE DARTA HUU;

DIN RAAT TUJHE SOCH KAR BHI LABH *** LANE SEE DARTA HUU;

TIL TIL KAR TERE SATH KO MARTA HUU….

AUR KOI PUJHE TOH BAS, HAS KAR ITNA KAHTA HUU;

WO EK MUSAFIR THI JISKI MANJIL MAI NAA THA ;

WO EK CHAKOR THI JISKA CHAND MAI NAA THA;

WO EK DARIYA THI JISKA SAHIL MAI NAA THA…



EK BAR FIR SEE USKEE LIYE YEE DIL MACHAL RAHA HAI;

FIR SEE NAYE SAPNE DEKHNE KOO YEE DIL  MAR RAHA HAI ;

KAISE SAMJHAUU IS NADAN PARINDEE KOO ;

KII TUU EK BAR FIR TUTNE KI OOR BADH RAHA HAI….



WOO KAHTE THE IS JHUTE ISK KI BATEE NA KIA KARO;

DIL TUMHARA HAMME CHOR KISI AUR KE LIYE BHI DHARKEGA ;

KUCH DIN ME AASHIKI KA BHUKAR BHI SAR SEE UTREGA ;

PAR AB KYA BATAE JANAB KOO ,

DEKHE UNHE  TOH MANO EK ARSA SAA HOO GAYA;

PAR AAJ BHI WOO HAR EK PAL ENN SANSOO  ME RAVA HAI;

AAJ BHI IS DIL ME BAS UNKI HI JAGAH HAI;

UNKI YAD ME AAJ BHI RAATE KATHI HAI HAMARI;



FARK BAS ITNA HAI HAMARI CHAHTE EK DUSRE SEE JUDAA HAI….
Vivian Ienello Nov 2014
Honestly I feel on a deep level, subtle schisms of my surroundings

In a dimension where I'm opposite, I know everything, but nothing at all

and if you think everything in this second matters you are wrong

Invincibility, perfection, idealism is how I was as a child

but those barriers of honesty disintegrated, seeing the world and what it projects

realities not a honey coated dream, but one of realization

hearing the lies and cries of what became our generation

you would think change is bad but it keeps life going

self-criticism deteriorates your dreams, dreams your soul sar

so stop, stop, stop, letting the deceased thoughts of yesterday

harm you.
" Hum the dhoondte jisse
Woh kami ban gaye
Tum mere ishq ki
Sar-zameen ban gaye"
now these lines hit me hard.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
i imagine heaven, as seeing copernicus balancing himself, while riding a bicycle for the first time, seeing how he theorised the imbalance of the geocentric model... mind you: the heliocentric model for writing history... kinda ******, isn't it? not much to go around, landing on the moon, probes to saturn, lovely pictures... to me? we're still living in a geocentric world, since most of history happens in the geocentric model, rather than the heliocentric model of: dwarfing man... plus, readings maps doesn't really help even if you know that the earth isn't flat... o.k. smart ***, you navigate a car across europe, from england to a remote city in eastern poland!

memory is such a fickle faculty of the mind,
made twice as fickle (some for of "natural"
selection) - most assuredly an ontological
anomaly - but i remember this one particular
morning, where i had to take a photograph
of the vanilla / raspberry / rose hue clouds,
while pumping myself for the day ahead
at 7a.m., listening to *jethro tull's

my god - ah, the flute man, i sometimes
imitate it, puffing out clouds of biblical
verse citing: the fire ahead, and the smoke
behind, will guard your path upon
the woken ask for: an exodus out egypt.
after all, i'm all for free speech,
but when a freedom is lacking,
and an insidiousness overcomes a first
comment of a site like you-tube...
       debating bands, "trying" to broaden
the young minds:
   i actually was introduced to king crimson
when i was circa 10 / 11...
      hell, depends who your father was...
people abused by trolls forget one major
point... the adrenaline rush you get
when being slighted...
      you know the effect of adrenaline in
this loser microcosmos?
  you know how powerful it can be?
you have to learn english a second time
even if you already speak it as an american,
or an australian...
              you have to pick out the best
bits: on the continent there's no such thing
as english humour, there's only
the macabre humour, or... dark humour...
prime ingredient?
oh don't be silly, it's not turmeric
(the poor man's saffron) - although that
could 'elp...
   it's? sar-casm!
     the english are renowned for it...
by the way, i once mentioned "chiromancy"
and i.q., i.e. how you hold a pen
or a fork / knife, or how you type without
ever glancing at the keyboard...
better add chop-sticks to the affair...
i prefer to call them pinch-sticks -
since you're most likely pinching your
food, rather than forking it...
and that: they're not exactly drum sticks
either...
            i wonder why high i.q. correlates
to culinary equipment...
        i fiddle with my beard,
scratch my head and state: no idea!
but... have you ever wondered why
thai curries are so much fresh than indian
or bengali? the indians use the base
of onion ginger and garlic,
and very few greens...
                 they're heavy on the stomach too,
but thai curries?
        so easy to digress on,
sorry, digest...
                   and these pinch-stick antics?
bewildering...
    i can't remember the last time i used
them,
but it's always the same cliche:
once you've learned how to ride a bike,
once you've learned how to swim,
once you've learned how to use chopsticks,
you can't forget how to,
even with a ridiculous amount of hiatus.
odd, isn't it?
   well, i find it odd...
see, when you come across a youtube troll
in the comments section,
be sure to turn a reply into a sarcastic snigger -
the english humour type,
recognise the adrenaline rush,
mention a small weener,
i know it's not exactly bungee jumping,
just recognise the adrenaline...
  and **** me it's there, esp. (like me) you've
had a few drinks "too many"...
it's easy prey... you can turn into
the most obnoxious antithesis of a troll
that a troll begins to cower...
   i'm not for safe spaces or curbing a freedom
of speech, but, come one:
you mention a few bands that are the neo-alt.
from the 1970s in the prog rock movement,
why settle on citing a want for kids reading
to led zeppelin... or black sabbath...
no one mentioned deep purple either...
guess what ****** of guitar store workers more:
deep purple's smoke on the water,
or led zeppelin's stairway to heaven?
  oddly enough? the latter.
i just hate hearing the news of teenagers being
"sold" suicide after being abused online -
esp. girls...
        come on, if you're being trolled,
turn into an englishman, become sarcastic,
watch some fawlty towers, some monty python,
and then spin it with things like:
i'm getting a hard-on, or: my ****'s getting wet...
pick 'n' mix...
          the only way to effectively disperse these
"saints" of free speech is to become
a bigger troll than they are...
  and how does one overcome a troll?
one becomes an orc.
Butch Decatoria May 2016
Sacrilicious science :
dissecting frogs
legs deep fried
(tastes like chicken)
when we try to fly
by the "secret"

wishing and insultations up
denying the absolutes
our eyes to see

the selfish flesh is heavy
karma like bone
and worship now a gathering moan
chaotic hush

and a bruha broom can
only give dust
its flight
the mind in fear
wears death and night

darkling battlefields
have already won
our ignorance its tasty pawn
indifference the after-dung

Sacrilicious science of sleep walking
purgatory fog / thick & dense
(are you?)

they prey our souls to keep
so be mindful of what you believe
or ***** to read

nutritional value : 0% sense
electrolytes of air
and no good deed goes...
like coyotes and roadrunners

VEEP! VEEP!

vicious cycles
acme roadkill Texas heat
hope that God still loves his sheep

when stupid nukes us mushroom / meals

sacriliciously spun
fatalistic
devils' heels...

(Yehaw Yahoo spurs and guns!)

Guffaw !
Sarchasm.
Storm;
Rain.
Dirt;
Pain.
I'm gone;
Insane.
I could feel dessert in my vein
Terror running through my brain
And I see the fleet and the heat reversing my aim
Defeat;
Fell.
The flit;
Hell.
I'm sinking inside the well
But I live like all is well
Brain;
Dead!
My skin is turning to a shell
Mind and soul running to a dwell
The thought
And memory
The fall
And gravity
The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves
And all that famous harmony of leaves
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky;
Had blotted out my image and the cries.
But I keep sailing on the deck of the abandoned ship
Maybe one day, I'll find my way, to the top of the hip
Irrespective of the hate speech and sar-donic
Some say I'm doomed like Odysseus and his wagon ship
But I keep levitating my soaring height
Like a moon climbing upon an empty sky
No climate or condition could dismantle me
Like a bat hanging on a drying tree
This language which my dream is written; keep-on baffling me
And there's never being a psyche to analyse or subtitles it
Maybe somebody hid hope and desire; + fear and hate
Under my feet that follows me night and day
Maybe someday my dark heart will at least turn to gray
For this is the price that I've got to pay
To be brave in the face of pain
*
Tears rise in my heart
And gathers in my eye
As I lean to touch the sky
The more I try; more I fall
As I try to blaspheme between the stars
The more I search; more I lost
More I cry; the more I mourn
For my book of fate is about to burn
The path to my dreams is about to u-turn
How on earth will I debug,
This raging fault
How will I erase this engraved dirt?
My skin will burn; my flesh will hurt
Though my dreams are dead but I still live
I shred my strength to breath; but I still breathe
How I wish to be with him (my dream) under the six feet
How I wish I got a deadly flick from this street
Then, I decide to take a walk through my district.
To rid away the thought from my instinct
Ironically, I walk majestically and peep at everyone I did meet.
And I think that how would it be
If I wasn't bred to slum filled with big filth
Then I shake my head
And I said.
How could it feel?
To live without being seeing
To live like a god in my thought
To live poor but humane in my hut
To live in this world without being hurt
To pass through enemies plot without being caught
The abhor and foe won't want me grow
Let them go to space and stop me glow (the vibe, they don't)
So I don't feel abice with their songs of hate;
Malice and rage.
I have worked hard
And at this juncture I cannot ******
That tears I've shed were because of fear,
The kick I took that deafened my ear.
Eventually I became this child of steel,
Hard as a rock, with no tender feel.
I became immune to the blows to my head,
As the tips of my welts slightly bled.
The pain, it faded and my heart grew weak,
But as my body grew stronger, I became this freak.
It teaches me from wrong to right.
My rage grew strong,
And even against the world,
I won't take a flight
I stood to fight
misterN Feb 2019
Dekhna chahata hu  woh haseen natnai kau.  
Jau kabhie kabhie aap bewaqt
Phulatai hau.  

Na jaana kab deddar hauga woh daerai ki.  Woh Nazuuk sai haashiye ki.

Ki jald sai jald sai jald hum un be ahang  natnai mai  khaid hau jayai.

Aur mat tadpau mujhe aab.
Aab tau aap sar utuaa hi dau aur hammai woh haseen manzar kai dedaar kara hi dau.
Aagaya hai firse samay wahi
Ab hum sar chupayenge aur kahi
Bichadne ka gham toh hai sahi
Lekin us baat ki himmat nahi

Is gham ko tumse baatenge ab nahi
Tumse Milne ki jasbaat ki hai darr wahi
Bin bataye Hume hai jaana abhi
Humko dhoondte tum aana nahi
Humko dhoondte tum aana nahi

Ab Aagaya hai firse samay wahi...
That Random Guy Jan 2021
Gira ke mujhe in andhero me mera guzra waqt
mere hi saath he yu chala aaya

Ajab shaqks hai vo bhi
katal bhi kadar se kiya, aur gale bhi yu
choom ke sar mera lagaya

rakh ke mujhe kahi kisi paimaane me kehta hai
Dekh maine tere liye paani ka diya bhi jalaaya hai

Teen baras/ saath janam maano lambe is waqt me
yaad teri aaj bhi waqt bewaqt hai

me musafir ki trha kuch dhundne ka chaata liye
nikla to hu n par guzra hua waqt bhi bhala
kabhi kal ban paaya hai?
Hope you are doing and get well
Julian Delia Jul 2019
Ġrieħi miftuħin,
Xejn ma jrid jingħalaq.
Suppost, il-ġnus maqgħuda,
Iżda lkoll qegħdin mifruxin,
Donnu, xejn ma jrid jiċċaqlaq.

Feriti ifferoċjati bil-melħ,
Kruċjati, bla ebda sens ta’ ferħ.
U l-imħabba għal proxxmu -
Dik x’sar minnha?
Issa sibna x-xoqqa f’moxta;
Ħlifna, bit-tarf ta’ din il-pinna,
Naslu għal verità, naraw x’insarrfu minnha.

Allura, x’inhi din il-verità?
Qiegħed nassumi li hekk qegħdin tistaqsu.
M’hemmx dibattitu, ir-realtà turik,
Kollox f’ħinu, kollox f’waqtu.
Ir-risposta tiegħi hija din;
Tlifna kull sens ta’ valur,
Tlifna kull sens ta’ twemmin.

M’għadniex nemmu fil-valur tal-ħajja ta’ kullħadd.
M’għadniex nemmnu li kull azzjoni għanda impatt.
Nemmu li aħna progressivi, u Ewropej;
Jekk vera nemmnu hekk,
Lesti nħallsu għall-eċċessi u d-dejn?
Mhux dejn fiskali, iżda dejn immortali,
Id-dejn tad-demm li xxerred,
Dejn is-sudditti, dejn l-iskjavi.

In fatti, is-superjorità materjali ġejja minn hekk;
Mill-gwerer tas-slaten, u l-gideb ta’ dawn tal-ġlekk.
Daħħalna xafra disa’ pulzieri ‘il ġewwa,
Biex imbagħad ħriġniha sitta ‘il barra;
Ta’ parsi għandna l-ugwaljanza,
Għax issa jsawtuk xorta, iżda b’aktar ħlewwa.

Qabel, kellna l-ktajjen u l-forza brutali.
Issa, għandna l-kuntratti, u l-kodiċi penali,
Bil-banek jirrenjaw,
Bil-gvernijiet korporazzjonijiet statali.
Mhux ha nitlobkom temmnuni -
Nitlobkom biss teżaminaw il-fatti.
M’għandix spag x’jiġbduli;
Il-kuxjenza nadifa,
U m’għandix gideb x’ngħatti.

_______

’Open wounds’

Open wounds;
They aren’t closing.
Nations should be united,
But we are far apart,
Seems like nothing wants to budge.

Wounds, seasoned with salt,
Crucibles, with no sense of joy.
And, about that love for one’s fellow man -
What happened to that?
Now, we’ve found the perfect moment;
We’ve sworn, with the tip of this pen,
(that) We’ll get to the truth,
See what we can make of it.

So; what is the truth?
I am assuming that’s what you’re asking.
There’s no debate, reality shows you,
In due time and place, in the right moment.
My answer is this -
We’ve lost all our sense of valour,
We’ve lost all our sense of belief.

We no longer believe in the value of everyone’s life.
We no longer believe every action impacts others.
We believe that we are progressive, and European;
If we do believe that,
Are we ready to pay back our excesses and debts?
This is not fiscal debt, but rather an immortal one,
The debt of the blood that has been shed,
The debt of subjects and slaves.

In fact, material superiority stems from this;
From the wars of lords and the lies of the suits.
We’ve pushed a blade nine inches inward,
And pushed it six inches outward;
Pretending we have equality,
Just because now, they’ll still beat you, but more sweetly, more subtly.

Before, we had chains and brute force.
Now, we have contracts, and the penal code,
With banks reigning supreme,
With governments who are now state corporations.
I am not asking you to believe me -
I am asking you to examine the facts.
I have no strings, none that can be pulled;
My conscience is clean,
And I have no lies to cover up.
Dedicated to a nation full of crooks and *******.
AADI Dec 2019
mere sar te ishq chdh reya shaayad
shayari bnaun layi shabd je ni milde !
-aadi
Crystal ball mirror mirrors on the wall who's the flyest of them all's?
My bars stand tall y'all leaning like lisa cracked smiles
More foul than gomer Pyle could a run a thousand miles
Without breaking a sweat guns is flexed for stretching pecs
Inject the cold collect watch the checks cashed with ***
****** slouchers end up with ****** vouchers I'll stout ya
Statue stature before and after craft shed a beautiful blood baths
Paths of a golden wrath suckas loosing grips over halves
Sick with these bars G grouchy as oscar escapes like Escar
Stacks an empire underground Cae'sar none could par
Shadow of a super star ultimate words sticking like tar'
Zan jungle book bear clippin' necessities nipsy
Hustle til its a broken gristle since these cowards whistle
Morning birds chirps this ain't an excerpt lucid concert
Back in ya dreams stings like a controlled demon ring
Yo I'm a real man with methods bodies go red man
Once I wave the cannon fanning at ya church sanding
All these silly ***** knevil with the blunt pulling mad stunts
Checki itt!!?


All It took was a dollar and a dream visions of the unseen
Tunnel visions of green flashing over the braille peen
Activate the state of an insane grace stacks to a Chase
Manhattan chilling with villians records going platinum
**** an album freestyle drills til my women her legs feel
Vibration cultural sky crapping as the city vaping creating
An atmosphere don legend sitting here flows a comet spear
Disappear only to reappear mirage summer Minaj collage
Rhymes to beats hypes the freaks of a speech under the sheets
I'm hitting til it's goes soft get ya head out the guttas stutter
Hataz bring em back to the status of an incubator state a
Brother with the rawest tendency more mellows than Quincy
Jones alone I hold this mic like it's Solomons throne clones
Love to go for a jocking I'm socking the industry til it's popping
None stopping gotta keep it tight turn a ****-Neo leftist from an alt-right
Dangerous with these pedigrees ask Albert Pike
Sike awakening the dead with the stench of my spike
Verbal sorcery pyromancy who wanna chance me
I'm chilling like Tut golden snake hat with a raw batch
Choke the mics throat air out the smoke of fires wrote
Don't let the sleeping lion get poked only to provoke
An uproar ramping from city to city high voltage cranked energy
Check it!!!
Puvern Apr 2020
I like it when you wear
your hair long
Hanging over
your pretty face
And shading your eyes.
Those eyes!
Wear it like that
So I won't drown
In those
Intergalactic oceans
That beckon
Fuelling
my incessant desire
That will never be
As you force me
To wander
Aimlessly
In your beautiful shadow.
Puvern Pillay, 2001

— The End —