DAILY POEMS
The homeland having fallen down a well and after sixty years, it’s up to us
Bridging generations through rhyme
Beloved works and new discoveries from our archive.
The homeland having fallen down a well and after sixty years, it’s up to us
I’m an Arab! I shouted, at the doorway to departures
ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone,
URNS and odours bring away! Vapours, sighs, darken the day!
Me from Myself—to banish— Had I Art— Impregnable my Fortress
My Faith is larger than the Hills— So when the Hills decay—
DESPAIRING cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night, The sad voice of Death--the call of my nearest lover, putting forth,
Come, I will make the continent indissoluble, I will make the most splendid race the sun ever shone upon,
শুধু বিঘে-দুই ছিল মোর ভুঁই, আর সবই গেছে ঋণে। বাবু বলিলেন, 'বুঝেছ উপেন? এ জমি লইব কিনে।'
بیا کہ قاعدۂ آسماں بگردانیم قضا بگردش رطل گراں بگردانیم
در هوایت بی قرارم، بی قرارم ڕوز و شب سر زکویت برندارم، برندارم ڕوز وشب