IFTIKHAR, Arif

Written In The Season Of Fear

Those birds who want to try their wings against the odds of nature

who want to explore the working of the wind

Are now afraid to fly in open skies.

They know the one who'll hunt them down, and they

also knowwhich net,

But who knows what scheme he's hatching and on which

branch he'll start.

Hunters...blind as their consciences...hunters that

seek to silence

The growing chorus of birds in the branches...

Set out to open every door of tyranny they can.

O Lord!

Even trees are now frozen with fear

As their branches wait for the fruit of voices

Who'll protect those birds who need to fly

In open skies with the shadow of your grace.

Grace them with the season of deliverance

Ghazal

This word that I create on the book of the soul

It is, actually, the creation of someone else

The musical note, beat, rhythm… if all are nothing but a divine help

Then what is it that I deem a gift?

He owns the sea, the air, the firmament

With whose permission we make boats

I glean a ray of light from clay

And turn it into a new glittering galaxy

Whenever I sense that the story is about to end

I conjure a new tale from that point onwards

This flock of mellifluous birds in free air!

What about those who are busy making arrows and spears?

They have returned from the land of strangers

It remains to be seen where they build their abodes now

Solicitation

O the hunters who have hunted me

I want immunity,

The only desire I have now is a safeguarded flight my hunters!

I want immunity

Once, before during the shoot for fruitful days I have been ensnared.

Acquit me now

Prior to this day, in quest of protection,

I have been victimized frequently, too.

Acquit me now

My hunters! I want immunity

The only desire I have now is a safeguarded flight.

The only desire I have now is a lodge amidst earth and sky.

My hunters! I want immunity.