"syed" poems - Hello Poetry

Ye Aalam Shauq Ka Dekha Na Jaae* Vo But Hai Ya Khuda Dekha Na Jaae This state of excitement, a disguised affair Is he an idol or the Lord? O’ I am unaware Ye Mere Saath Kaisi Raushni Hai Ki Mujh Se Rasta Dekha Na Jaae Accompanying me, what form of glow is this? O’ I cannot grasp my path by its glare Ye Kin Nazron Se Tu Ne Aaj Dekha Ki Tera Dekhna Dekha Na Jaae Today with what aim did you stare O’ your staring I could not bear Hamesha Ke Liye Mujh Se Bichhar Ja Ye Manzar Bar-Ha Dekha Na Jaae Detached from me, to forever become O’ this scene always stages a scare 'Faraz' Apne Siva Hai Kaun Tera Tujhe Tujh Se Juda Dekha Na Jaae O’ Faraz, apart from self who is yours? To tear you from yourself, it is so unfair ✒ Translated by ℐamil Hussain , Sung by Tahira Syed

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Dec 28, 2017

Dec 28, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC

jamil-hussain

State of E x c i t e m e n t

Ye Aalam Shauq Ka Dekha Na Jaae* Vo But Hai Ya Khuda Dekha Na Jaae This state of excitement, a disguised affair Is he an idol or the Lord? O’ I am unaware Ye Mere Saath Kaisi Raushni Hai Ki Mujh Se Rasta Dekha Na Jaae Accompanying me, what form of glow is this? O’ I cannot grasp my path by its glare Ye Kin Nazron Se Tu Ne Aaj Dekha Ki Tera Dekhna Dekha Na Jaae Today with what aim did you stare O’ your staring I could not bear Hamesha Ke Liye Mujh Se Bichhar Ja Ye Manzar Bar-Ha Dekha Na Jaae Detached from me, to forever become O’ this scene always stages a scare 'Faraz' Apne Siva Hai Kaun Tera Tujhe Tujh Se Juda Dekha Na Jaae O’ Faraz, apart from self who is yours? To tear you from yourself, it is so unfair ✒ Translated by ℐamil Hussain , Sung by Tahira Syed

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at first things were great with my mom and my dad she should have stayed best she could have had., most would call it shallow to leave be on your own, not some tantrom all around disaster day by day a year matured faster I was only nine helping mamma cross the line, child support goes for my stepbrothers fine. maybe when he was my age he belonged in a love cage,. 10 His own mind rage,. but sneakin out at night for some hood fight ! back to 21 remember that he died right. only one who cried long my heart syed a new song, never understood. cant we just get along? yea you say a bad kid, as a parent not helpin had did.. with learning had hid, hurting words created thats why my brother deflated... mom I was good kid seain what was right never under stood you'd rather quit or split You know I was you're hero you made me just some zero... once was indepenent then boom the mind flent, now your'e just insane controlled by cliffs chain, but you know that I dipped along the way I tripped one thing that I fell, atleast I'm out my shell led out on the train achieved my life regain, sorry that I hit him, your hubby just was cruel as a lil Rhym he through me in the tubby hit me with his bottles called me fat and chubby beaming red eyes screaming all night crys, all on my own, brother helped when I got thrown. even at four got pushed to the floor.... by the way just more to say Once i hit twelve I ran for he door Thid bad man for the rest of her life she said yes to be his wife, with his big ring knee on the floor I just think 'Ding hells at the door... moms the baby inside screams save me plus her dad got out the knife he was crazy her whole life by time i Got to ten my mind was in a den,. every day was yelling, just be soft and sweet by telling, I know you are just scared And once you really cared. with your so called man, the one with no life planned You see I left the road called far west with out your'e hand I just want the best, one day mom you wont see me one day mom you'll be at rest.. cause that mess left bullets in your'e chest :'( </3 Arrywillbeloved2013© copy right protected

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Jun 1, 2013

Jun 1, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC

arrywill-keepya-smilin

same **** different day livin up while its all gray.....

at first things were great with my mom and my dad she should have stayed best she could have had., most would call it shallow to leave be on your own, not some tantrom all around disaster day by day a year matured faster I was only nine helping mamma cross the line, child support goes for my stepbrothers fine. maybe when he was my age he belonged in a love cage,. 10 His own mind rage,. but sneakin out at night for some hood fight ! back to 21 remember that he died right. only one who cried long my heart syed a new song, never understood. cant we just get along? yea you say a bad kid, as a parent not helpin had did.. with learning had hid, hurting words created thats why my brother deflated... mom I was good kid seain what was right never under stood you'd rather quit or split You know I was you're hero you made me just some zero... once was indepenent then boom the mind flent, now your'e just insane controlled by cliffs chain, but you know that I dipped along the way I tripped one thing that I fell, atleast I'm out my shell led out on the train achieved my life regain, sorry that I hit him, your hubby just was cruel as a lil Rhym he through me in the tubby hit me with his bottles called me fat and chubby beaming red eyes screaming all night crys, all on my own, brother helped when I got thrown. even at four got pushed to the floor.... by the way just more to say Once i hit twelve I ran for he door Thid bad man for the rest of her life she said yes to be his wife, with his big ring knee on the floor I just think 'Ding hells at the door... moms the baby inside screams save me plus her dad got out the knife he was crazy her whole life by time i Got to ten my mind was in a den,. every day was yelling, just be soft and sweet by telling, I know you are just scared And once you really cared. with your so called man, the one with no life planned You see I left the road called far west with out your'e hand I just want the best, one day mom you wont see me one day mom you'll be at rest.. cause that mess left bullets in your'e chest :'( </3 Arrywillbeloved2013© copy right protected

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What Happened to Them? by Nasir Kazmi loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Those who came ashore, what happened to them? Those who sailed away, what happened to them? Those who were coming at dawn, when dawn never arrived ... Those caravans en route, what happened to them? Those I awaited each night on moonless paths, Who were meant to light beacons, what happened to them? Who are these strangers surrounding me now? All my lost friends and allies, what happened to them? Those who built these blazing buildings, what happened to them? Those who were meant to uplift us, what happened to them? NOTE: This poignant poem was written about the 1947 partition of India into two nations: India and Pakistan. I take the following poem to be about the aftermath of the division. Climate Change by Nasir Kazmi loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The songs of our silenced lips are different. The expressions of our regretful hearts are different. In milder climes our grief was more tolerable, But the burdens we bear today are different. O, walkers of awareness's road, keep your watch! The obstacles strewn on this stony path are different. We neither fear separation, nor desire union; The anxieties of my rebellious heart are different. In the first leaf-fall only flowers fluttered from twigs; This year the omens of autumn are different. This world lacks the depth to understand my heartache; Please endow me with melodies, for my cry is different! One disconcerting glance bared my being; Now in barren fields my visions are different. No more troops, nor flags. Neither money, nor fame. The marks of the monarchs on this land are different. Men are not martyred for their beloveds these days. The youths of my youth were so very different! Nasir Kazmi Couplets When I was a child learning to write my first scribblings were your name. ―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch When my feet lost the path where was your hand? ―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch Everything I found is yours; everything I lost is also yours. ―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch Syed Nasir Raza Kazmi (1925-1972) was a renowned Urdu poet and playwright. His poetry continues to be used in Pakistan Television (PTV) shows and in Indian Bollywood films. Keywords/Tags: Nazir Kazmi, Urdu, translation, ghazal, couplet, love, pain, grief, melancholy, mrburdu

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May 7, 2020

May 7, 2020 at 2:09 AM UTC

michael-r-burch

Nazir Kazmi translations

What Happened to Them? by Nasir Kazmi loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Those who came ashore, what happened to them? Those who sailed away, what happened to them? Those who were coming at dawn, when dawn never arrived ... Those caravans en route, what happened to them? Those I awaited each night on moonless paths, Who were meant to light beacons, what happened to them? Who are these strangers surrounding me now? All my lost friends and allies, what happened to them? Those who built these blazing buildings, what happened to them? Those who were meant to uplift us, what happened to them? NOTE: This poignant poem was written about the 1947 partition of India into two nations: India and Pakistan. I take the following poem to be about the aftermath of the division. Climate Change by Nasir Kazmi loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The songs of our silenced lips are different. The expressions of our regretful hearts are different. In milder climes our grief was more tolerable, But the burdens we bear today are different. O, walkers of awareness's road, keep your watch! The obstacles strewn on this stony path are different. We neither fear separation, nor desire union; The anxieties of my rebellious heart are different. In the first leaf-fall only flowers fluttered from twigs; This year the omens of autumn are different. This world lacks the depth to understand my heartache; Please endow me with melodies, for my cry is different! One disconcerting glance bared my being; Now in barren fields my visions are different. No more troops, nor flags. Neither money, nor fame. The marks of the monarchs on this land are different. Men are not martyred for their beloveds these days. The youths of my youth were so very different! Nasir Kazmi Couplets When I was a child learning to write my first scribblings were your name. ―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch When my feet lost the path where was your hand? ―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch Everything I found is yours; everything I lost is also yours. ―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch Syed Nasir Raza Kazmi (1925-1972) was a renowned Urdu poet and playwright. His poetry continues to be used in Pakistan Television (PTV) shows and in Indian Bollywood films. Keywords/Tags: Nazir Kazmi, Urdu, translation, ghazal, couplet, love, pain, grief, melancholy, mrburdu

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One two three four five Once I caight a fish alive It bit my finger, but my finger was alive But I wasn't I tried to get alive but I couldn't Then I tried again And then I realized that I am alive ~ Syed Faèz Ali

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Jul 24, 2015

Jul 24, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC

theunfeelinghuman

My finger was alive

One two three four five Once I caight a fish alive It bit my finger, but my finger was alive But I wasn't I tried to get alive but I couldn't Then I tried again And then I realized that I am alive ~ Syed Faèz Ali

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What if I’d never been called Martin? If I’d been called Malcom or Syed or Fred? Would I have been treated any differently, would the thoughts be different in my head? Would I have been adopted by a different couple, maybe by ones who really loved me instead? Would I be living in a bungalow in Barnet or a thatched cottage in Hay upon Wye? Be a scientist obsessed by nuclear fusion or a pilot spending hours in the sky. Would I be a murderous tyrant, leaving fear, dread and bloodshed in my wake or a devotee of the divine Mary Berry, perfecting the ultimate bake? Would stories be written about me or songs sung about me by the fire or would journalists interview my loved ones and dear ones, desperate to expose me as a liar. What if I’d been created a monster, not even given a name at all? Just left where my life had started. Curled up and quivering in a ball. No one to tell me they loved me, no one to give me a hug. Just treat like a thing to recoil from, like an odious, hideous bug. But what if someone noticed me, to whom the outside didn’t matter at all. Who looked at the deepest core of my being and saw secrets and delights to enthral. Who coached and nurtured and loved me and treat me with no fear or no shame and decided to call me Isaac, as that would be my perfect name.

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Jun 27, 2019

Jun 27, 2019 at 2:05 AM UTC

Hortonious101

What if

What if I’d never been called Martin? If I’d been called Malcom or Syed or Fred? Would I have been treated any differently, would the thoughts be different in my head? Would I have been adopted by a different couple, maybe by ones who really loved me instead? Would I be living in a bungalow in Barnet or a thatched cottage in Hay upon Wye? Be a scientist obsessed by nuclear fusion or a pilot spending hours in the sky. Would I be a murderous tyrant, leaving fear, dread and bloodshed in my wake or a devotee of the divine Mary Berry, perfecting the ultimate bake? Would stories be written about me or songs sung about me by the fire or would journalists interview my loved ones and dear ones, desperate to expose me as a liar. What if I’d been created a monster, not even given a name at all? Just left where my life had started. Curled up and quivering in a ball. No one to tell me they loved me, no one to give me a hug. Just treat like a thing to recoil from, like an odious, hideous bug. But what if someone noticed me, to whom the outside didn’t matter at all. Who looked at the deepest core of my being and saw secrets and delights to enthral. Who coached and nurtured and loved me and treat me with no fear or no shame and decided to call me Isaac, as that would be my perfect name.

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