There is no post office, but the martyrs dispatch

In your country, I heard

There is no rail network, but the courage moves

In your country, I heard

The nights are cufewed, but the dreams wander

In your country, I heard

The hills and mountains stay in poets’ heart

In your country, I heard

The trembling sky finds the lyrical smile

In your country, I heard

The brightness is uncertain and darkness is oblivious

In your country, you say

The numbers have no meaning, counting has no history

In your country, you say

You all are poets, of loss, of memory, of madness

In your country, you say

The murders are guarded by law, tyrants govern

In your country, you say

There are no doors; windows only open for numb hope

In your country, you say

The filthy boots trample the saffron fields, ruin innocence

In your country, you say

The heart subsists summer, the eyes bear the winters

In your country, I say

Thousand worlds live together, geography bows

In your country, I say

The empires tremble, million marches don’t sway

In your country, I say

Aroma of spring bring paradise on our ways

In your country, I say

Martyrs don’t rest, their soul calls for complete freedom

In your country, I say

Being stands for beauty, time stands for envious messenger

In your country, I say

All oppressors will suicide, dignity will be the end fate

– 18th February 2012.

By- Musab Iqbal

 

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