Hurt Poetry in Urdu Hindi and English: 06/02/12

I can only look to me to find the way it all began - this confusion, constant

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,


And that one talent which is death to hide,


Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent


To serve therewith my Maker, and present


My true account, lest He returning chide,


'Doth God exact day labor, light denied?


I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent


That murmur soon replies, 'God doth not need


Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best


Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state


Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,


And post o'er land and ocean without rest;


They also serve who only stand and wait.............


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                                           something.....

And so it came to be


this isolation that I am


I can only look to me


to find the way it all began -


this confusion, constant


hunger for something more than this


I strive to find this being


that I envision, yet seem to miss.


Could it be that I am empty-


or maybe a little lost?


Could it be that I am lonely,


or seek happiness at any cost?


This never-ending Something


that I am living deep inside,


depicts the illusion of myself


and all I have to hide.





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 There is grey in your hair.

Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath


When you are passing;


But maybe some old gaffer mutters a blessing


Because it was your prayer



Recovered him upon the bed of death.


For your sole sake - that all heart's ache have known,


And given to others all heart's ache,


From meagre girlhood's putting on


Burdensome beauty - for your sole sake


Heaven has put away the stroke of her doom,


So great her portion in that peace you make


By merely walking in a room.


Your beauty can but leave among us


Vague memories, nothing but memories.


A young man when the old men are done talking


Will say to an old man, "Tell me of that lady


The poet stubborn with his passion sang us


When age might well have chilled his blood.'


Vague memories, nothing but memories,



But in the grave all, all, shall be renewed.


The certainty that I shall see that lady


Leaning or standing or walking


In the first loveliness of womanhood,


And with the fervour of my youthful eyes,


Has set me muttering like a fool.


You are more beautiful than any one,



And yet your body had a flaw:


Your small hands were not beautiful,


And I am afraid that you will run


And paddle to the wrist


In that mysterious, always brimming lake


Where those What have obeyed the holy law


paddle and are perfect. Leave unchanged


The hands that I have kissed,


For old sake's sake.


The last stroke of midnight dies.


All day in the one chair


From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have


ranged


In rambling talk with an image of air:


Vague memories, nothing but memories.

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And when her love has joined her, And they meet in heaven's bliss, Their regrets will quickly perish, As they kiss their first sweet kiss.

-- No uttered words the poet speaks,
No skies of golden hue,
No tales of unrequited love,
They were lost when I lost you.

No words to caress her lover's heart,
And gone the dreams she swore they'd live,
But alone within the poet dwells,
No uttered words... none left to give.

No music swells within her soul,
Just silence surrounds her heart,
And the solitude engulfs her world,
When the poet and love depart.

And lost the beauty she once could see,
And the glory she saw each day,
Now the poet pens her last farewell,
No more love can she convey.

But what's the poet's soul to do?
To release the love she feels,
For she'll surely die and wither,
If that love she now conceals.

she must hide the hurt and heartache,
Just smile to friends and say,
I'm fine... love doesn't matter,
And deceive them all that way.

For a different face she'll show them,
To barricade her pain,
To hide her shattered spirit,
From the love she ne'er attained.

But the pain within shall kill her,
Not soon but through the years,
For the poet knows her anguish,
When alone she sheds her tears.

And at night when dreams come calling,
With his voice, his smile... his eyes,
A single tear upon her cheek,
Hides the pain her heart belies.

For she loved his soul completely,
Was consumed by beauty's bliss,
Had shared his inner thoughts,
But never shared his kiss.

And when death comes to the poet,
And to heaven her soul ascends,
she'll smile before her beauty,
For eternity never ends.

So will the poet regret the life,
Which stole away the years,
No she'll simply recall the love,
she felt in all her tears.

And when her love has joined her,
And they meet in heaven's bliss,
Their regrets will quickly perish,
As they kiss their first sweet kiss.

And so the words will quickly flow again,
From my thoughts, to hand... to book,
I'll not write of God or Heaven,
When upon your face I look.

So the poet's again a poet,
For the words were always there,
I just didn't see much beauty,
When your love I couldn't share.

So their souls will find the love at last,
That in life they could not seek,
And the poet soon finds the words in you...
The words... she could not speak..

Designed By Saddiq Ur RehMan SaddiqI

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 Love doesn't make

the world go round,

Love is what makes

the ride worthwhile.

The greatest weakness of

most humans Is

their hesitancy to tell others,

How much they love them

While they're alive.


I have loved to

the point of madness;

That which is called madness,

That which to me,

Is the only

sensible way to love.

Memories

are the best souvenirs.


A divorce is

like an amputation;

you survive,

but there's less of you.

Designed By Saddiq Ur RehMan SaddiqI

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When suddenly it hit me

Just like lighting and thunder


I knew neither pain or happiness



My nights were cold and lonely


My days were short and weary


I was between shadows and lights


And came under the impression


That this life was the only thing given to me



You took me away from the perilous world


And turn my so called shelter into a paradise


I felt tranquility, it was something new to me


My life blossomed and everything was awesome


I remember this feeling, this emotion, which was full of devotion


Love, just extraordinary love.


Designed By Saddiq Ur RehMan SaddiqI

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