Imran Yousuf, Poetry 2021 Featured Writer

Kashmir Valley (Ghazal)

Come and listen to the ode, yelling about the ruination of my valley,
I can't creep an inch outside my skin, they have shackled the salvation of my valley.

The fountain of my heart has shrivelled, and birds of the cage have lost feathers,
The spring no more utter a melody, but waits for the consolation of my valley.

Songs of that Cuckoo, singing on the branches of Chinar, do you remember?
Or you too crushed the mirror of memories with the extinction of my valley!

The songbirds and nightingales seated on the branches have lost the tongue!
They no more sing the songs of glory but hums about the alienation of my valley.

Moon now rises under the shades of darkness and the sun faints at noon;
The lamp which once lightened the ruins, waits for the resurrection of my valley.

No more home, no more homeland but pure silence which seldom sings,
Fewer praise poems, pure emptiness and lost perception of my valley.

My soul has become a roving stranger, roaming in search of home,
Walk through the deserted meadows and witness the desolation of my valley.

Imran Yousuf, Poetry 2020, Featured Writer

Ghazal

With body of wood, heart of wax, hand-folded I stand.

With Chopped tongue, broken ribs, outdated I stand.

 

I pressed my soul’s ear against countless doors,

Not a single opened on my cry, so eluded I stand.

 

Enter the ruins of your heart and learn the meaning of humility,

Once I too had gone astray with the wind now emended I stand.

 

Remember I have no religion, so I roam churches, temples, shrines,

Prohibited am I to trample in any heart, so wounded I stand!

 

Now is the time to see the sunlight dancing as one with the shadows,

Don't laugh at those faithless men with whom bonded I stand.

 

Weep for that friend who has turned away from the friend,

Forlorn, isolated, lost in the nook of a dungeon jaded I stand.

 

The heart has gone, the mind has gone, the soul too has gone,

The Tongue has gone, the sight has gone, now blinded I stand.

Poetry 2019 Featured Poet, Imran Yousuf

Home (A Ghazal)

Come and listen to the ode, yelling about the ruination of my city,

I can't creep an inch outside my skin, they have shackled the salvation of my city

The fountain of my heart has shrivelled, and birds of the cage have lost feathers,

The spring no more utter a melody, but waits for the consolation of my city

Songs of that Cuckoo, singing on the branches of Chinar, do you remember?

Or you are too crushed the mirror of memories with the extinction of my city!

The songbirds and nightingales seated on the branches have lost the tongue,

They no more sing the songs of love and glory but hums about the alienation of my city

Moon now rises under the shades of darkness and the sun faints at noon, 

The lamp which once lightened the ruins, waits for the resurrection of my city

No more home, no more homeland but pure silence which seldom sings, 

Fewer praise poems, pure emptiness and lost perception of my city 

My soul has become a roving stranger, roaming in search of home.

Walk through the deserted meadows and witness the desolation of my city.