At the Grave of An Afghan Child ( From my poetry book Voice of Heart) ******************************************** These reddish patches on your grave, These frightening waves piercing my ears; Tell me the fury of your pious blood, Trying to gush out, and speak to the world. The uproar and turmoil in the universe, Will bring down the heavens and split the earth. For the sake of humanity, hold it back.! The hills and valleys are mourning your death. The winds and breezes that used to play, With your worn-out clothes and hanging bag, Are full of grief, and crying harsh. The birds which always danced to your frolic, Are painful, gloomy and looking sad. For the sake of their love, hold it back.! Faint from hunger, with hysteric groans, Your mother is scouring the wooded path. She is holding your sister in her lap, And a few breads in her hand for your meal, You were starving, while going to school. She is asking of you at your fathers grave. For the sake of her anguish, hold it back.! As you were walking with a sprightly pace, Your bag had the semblance of lethal bombs, An American soldier from the top of hill, Unable to perceive through the morning mist, Riddled your tiny soul with dozens of bullets. He was innocent, but blind with fear. For the sake of his innocence, hold it back.! He rushed to see the rebels body and arms, To report to press the height of his gallant deed. Bewildered at the gory sight of your blood, With a wild scream ˜My son! My friend! he fell. He had a son, your age and bearing your image. Along the way you both shared repartee and jokes. For the sake of his affection, hold it back.! When he regained his sense, he dug the earth, Buried your body and bag deep inside. With inconsolable shrieks, he climbed the hill, Wrote his emotional trauma to his wife, Put the barrel of his gun, once aimed at you, On his chest , and met the fate of his friend. For the sake of his repentance, hold it back.! In the most advanced country of the world, His widow like your mother and son like you, Have launched a crusade against the bullets . With traces of agony and resolve on their face, They are wandering from place to place. To spread the Christs words of love and peace. For the sake of their mission, hold it back.! Hold it back ! Hold it back! You are the flower of Paradise, You are the pride of life. You are the bravest of the brave. Dont let your blood come out of the grave. Hold it back.! My son, hold it back.! **************************************** ( Written in 2006, it is from my poetry book Voice of Heart) ******************************************************************* Dr. Mustafa Kamal Sherwani, Lucknow, India sherwanimk@yaoo
Posted on: Mon, 27 Oct 2014 06:09:19 +0000