My Existence

From beginning till end of ages, My existence…….,

In the heart of clouds, in the veins of flowers,
In the core of sleeping seeds,or in the germinations,
In the Sulaiman’s magical powers,
I am only a poet.

               My existence…….,

In the throat of nightingales, cuckoos and skylarks,
In the wings of doves, in the glowing light of fireflies,
In the thrones and crowns of monarchs,
In the wings of grasshoppers, in the song of crickets,
I am a poet.

          My existence…….,

From lip to lip of pens,
In the pages of books, in the droplets of rains,
Among the branches of seasons, in the buzz of bees,
In the song of birds, in the colours of rainbow,butterflies
I am a poet.

    My existence…….,

In the hard rock of plateaus, in the soft chest of plains,
In the mirage of desert or in the streams of river;
Under the sheet of iceland, in the lakes and lagoons,
In the middle of a solitary jungle, in the lap of nature.
I am a poet.

     My existence…….,

In the net of galaxy, in the stomach of shaking planets,
In the lip of black hole, in the riddles of stars-starlets,
In the depth of historic architectural relics;
On the surface of the globe of politics
I am a poet.

     My existence…….,

In the asteroid belts,
In the haemoglobin of volcanoes,
In the earthquakes’ plates,
In the psyche of well and woes,
I am a poet

  My existence…….,

In the mouth of the soldiers’ gun,
Or in their coffin,
In the larynx of cannon’s powder,
Or in the massacre of war,
I am a poet.

 My existence …….,

In the gasping of bellows of the blacksmith, or in the lighter of goldsmith,
In the joyful chants of potters, cobbers,barbers;
Inside the womb before the birth on the earth,
In the pain of masons’ trowels, in the needles of tailors;
I am a poet.

My existence…….,
In the insane asylum,
In the jail,in the orphanage,
In the pain of eunuchs, in the helplessness of slum,
In the virtuous and learned men’s knowledge;
I am a poet.

My existence…….,
In the fairy tales of dolphins, mermaids or unicorns;
In the history of nymphs, pegasus,werewolves,dragons,
In the blood of vampires or in the blood of octopuses;
At the bottom of oceans, in the jaws of mosses,
I am a poet.

      My existence…….,

In the acids of chemistry,in the lungs of molecules,
In the abdomen of injunctions,
In the skin of thermometer,
Or in the body of barometer and heater,
I am a poet.

        My existence…….,

In the decibels of thundering,
In the fad whizz of west wind,
In the candela of lighting,
In the mouth of BermudaTriangle or inside human mind,
I am just a poet.

   My existence…….,

In the otto of heaven and fire of hell,
In the God’s created gaseous particles that are universal;
In the cuboids of mathematics,
In the court of criticism of critics,
Awaiting for new peaceful ages,I am a mushy optimist.
I am a poet.

My existence…….,
In the universe,
Keeps drifting acrossing the unlimited light years ;
Like the light of wavelets,
Like an alpin my pricking thoughts,
Everyone says I am an amiss mad !
I am a poet, Not a God.

When I will not Stay

                      When I will not stay,
             You will be  standing there at the rusty gate, 
      Removing the veil of sorrow.
      Your heart is like white paper.
                          You must write in it,
         The words of love, hope, dream and peace.

You must write the love story,
Which had a long past,
Between you and me.
When I shall pass away,
You must say to the gardener
Plucking a bedewed red rose,
From our garden at every morning,
To keep into my brass flower-vase.
When I will not stay,
Being your ever companion,
Like the twinkling evening star,
Please recall our moon-meet for the first day.
Think not, when I won’t stay.
Being a sparrow I’ll whisper to your ears-
Many unknown ,uncanny words.
I’ll fan like a fan of palm-leaf
Gently pat with my wings on you,
When you’ll not be able to bear sultry,
I’ll make you put on the grassy-anklets
Around the ankles,
And make you wear a garland of macadamia.
Around thy neck.
A few ages will o’er take ‘eir calendars
Perhaps thy long awaiting,
Will be on the threshold,
Gazing at far-off vague landscape,
Placing still thy hand-palm on thy cheek
And you will think
About my haste-return from my activity,
When falling evening will creep,
Onto casement ledges.
Among the crowd of thousands of known, unknown people,
Daily you must apply water to the lotus of love,
To hold the love of yours and mine;
And to make it eternal and universal legend.

Ode to the Ababeel

O the angels of Allah, O the heavenly birds,
O the immortal birds,O the enemy slaughter,
O the birds of sensation, O pain killer,
Like the stream of eternal river that never ends,
Greet to thee upon this earth with the divine flowers.
Be fructuous thy unnumbered peace of years,
Upon my troublesome life merged under the mire.
My waiting for thee for one score, O hear !

Like the moving asteroids, pelting stones
Peel the wings of venomous wisps like the beans.
Tear the cobwebs of black spider.
Squash the millipedes wriggle hither and thither.
Break the anthills of wood ants like glasses.
Or kill the leeches and octopuses,
Which suck blood of innocuous creature,
In the heart of nature.
For the fear of centipedes and snakes around,
Men are rudderless-
Where the taste of peace is vanished .

All Creatures dither for fear,
Where the lions and tigers roar,
With the full heartfelt glee.
Like volcano by the red sparks of envy,
On the bloody corpses the spreading salt,
And the bony flesh by melting drop out-
In the fire of pyre.
Mixed up in the sky, in the air,
Where the dreams of downtroddens burn.
Conciliate my helpless and winced conscience-
O Ababeel with thy happy strain.

The earth is ever ill,
In the concentric circle,
Suffers from the viral pneumonia,
By the provocation of megalomania.
Under the dirty blanket,
Mothers’ tears with the torn garment,
Outcry of the hungry children,
On the footpath, in the lane,
Are heard and seen.

O Allah gifted Ababeel,
Annihilate the omens that are chaotic and evil.
O twist the black hands and the devil’s will.
Come out swarms from a secret cave,
The people from the black society to save.
Do so what you did in Mecca to save Kaaba,
By the command of almighty Allah.
O come ! come Ababeel, O come !
Being the symbol of eternal peace, heart and love.

One day will come,
Will be reduced to ashes by burning,
In the boiler of violence.

                     One day will come,
          Infanticide,homicide will be multiplied,
                     On the chart of table,

By the double-dealer,conspirators,tyrants,traitors.

One day will come,
the sack of knowledge of arrogance will rot,
melt and burn,
In the cancer of poisonous fiery smoke of atoms,

One day will come,
Ire,contumacy and stubbornness will be mixing up,
Into the mincing dust and dreary desert sand,
Wildfires will reign on this earth.


One day will come,
Air will stare at without its winking,
Putting the head on the shoulder of sunlight,
Filling the stomach with carbon dioxide.


One day will come,
Everything will go,
In the opposite direction,

One day will come,
Everything will dry up,
The earth will be scorched,
By the seven mouths of the sun.

One day will come,
Birds,men,insects will forget,
To sing the songs of poetry of earth,
The plows will be lying in the hole of the dead villages.

One day will come,
Clouds will forget to give rains,
Trees will forget to bloom flowers,
To give shadow and to bear fruits.

One day will come,
Romeo and Juliet,Laila and Majnun,
And all love stories,lack of qualified lovers readers,
Rust will fall in the vapour of time.

One day will come,
The prolonged buried skeletons will wake up,
All over the world and gathering five elements,
Ashes will take human shapes.


I’m Death ; I’ve no father,no mother.
Time is my messenger ; I’ve only Creator.
I’m solitary ; I’m melancholy ; I’m cruel.
I’ve no mercy ; no love, never I fail.
I’m black ; I’m perilous ; I’ve no mirth.
My name is Death…black-death
I know none ; I understand none.
I do not abdicate the life of anyone.
I’m made like charcoal with hidden fire.
Death for everyone as Soul for hunger.
No second,no hour,no century, no minute
No day,no year,no month,no week,no night.
I’m countless millennium-
where there’s birth, there I am.
I’m ferocious and wild for sinners…..
I show my peace only for God’s servants.
Al-Munkar and al-Nakeer’ll approach.
When you’ll be tombed and left to stretch.
I’m melancholy ; I’m black.
Present anywhere I am Death, only ache.


The tired atmosphere of the day spread,
Its arms and legs,still resting its head,
On the morning lazy pillow.
To the field with plows farmers go.
The silence of the soily smell breaking,
Someone has taken the song of relatives-losing.

Sun of the sun has just fallen,
In the chest,holding the unspoken pain;
Leaving his little daughters and son,
Silently crossing a mile,with a thick cord in hand;
By trees the secluded place is surrounded,
Illusions of life,grey dreams of surviving,
Had forgotten himself by hanging.

Leaving his torn shoes on trampled grasses,
He had drunk with his full-hearted,
To be elixir the suiside.
He hanged himself in the gap of hard branches.
May be, the poor passed away to wince,
Slowly with a pale appearance.
That day,his hanging,numb and blood frozen ;
Body by mosquitoes and flies was not eaten.

Now he is freed from,
The shadow of cursed smoke of mundane atom.
Birds,insects and trees of the field,
Prevented him from committed suicide.
The blind,dumb,black society,
Sees still the irony of fate’s history.

The blood stained clothes of corpse,
Soaked by the loved one’s tears,
Hundreds of thousands of lives are being lost,
In the womb of social stigma,insult,
And family squabbles,ah for a little fault !
Life is a journey not a destination !
It is for ecstasy not to by itself for destruction !

Upon the Expectation

O morning! you will come else never,
O night tell the clock to stop forever.
Tears,O tears ! can you hear,
The parting words and the heart’s whisper?

The sun rises and he sets.
Like an innocent child the earth weeps ;
Having not seen
The smiling face of the moon.
The night stars are unseen,
In the firmament by the daylight;
They return again at night.
The world will last-
As long as the rotation and the sun last.

Though the windy gusts
Break the birdy nests,
They make and remake it,
For their offspring on eggs they incubate.
When the flood is seen in the river,
The trees of both sides are sunk under water,
Yet they rekindle themselves a few days after.

It is still dawn now.
Birdsong could be heard.
As the rainbow-
Rises behind the clouds at the end
Of the rain.
O friends ! you will be gone-
In just a few hours.
Perhaps –
It is like a bolt from the blue,
To both of you and to me too.
“I will not let go”,
But I have to go to pull the world,
To make a living intended.

Friends,stay good,today I am alone.
May be our chats will crawl,
Behind the memories the time all.
In anticipation of a new return,
In the cradle of delighted mind,
I must be waiting for the way,
For myself among you I find.
For I owe my all to you may I say.

Pain of Pen

From age to age I am tired.
I am cheerless,I am sad.
Of uncounted people –
I am busy writing history.
Of Georges I am the mandatory.
Makes me use to judge the fate of life,
I am in pain.
An innocent is to be hanged when.
Without no reason,
From pocket to pocket I am confined
Of a wise and an erudite.
To write the white and black side
Of a groom and bride.
Wordlessly I write so many poetries
Of failure, love between lovers.
I am obliged to make dishonest deeds,
Sometimes from a saint into a thief,
Or from a thief into a saint’s needs.
To achieve a goal –
Woe of a higher degree holder’s life,
The ungot pain,depression of defeat,
Creates a commotion in my breast.
So I have been writing since ancient,
The history of a few thousand years,
Novel,drama and all genres.
By me the landlords capture,
The lands of the illiterate and the beggar.
While writing I feel thirsty,
Leave me-
Nobody makes out my entreaty.

Ille Ignis Fatuus

Upon this marsh,the foolish fire is ignited,
With its beauty to confound the eyewitness,
Like the aurora from a great distance;
Just as desire,jealousy,covetousness,greed,
Draw the world towards themselves.
While flickering inside the dark shadows,
Not far from the winding road puts out;
In a form like the colour of morning glory.
The more the enjoyers try to reach near it,
The more it moves wearily.