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(5)Poems>Hasan Hafiz

The letterbox gets filled up with piques.
Letters do not come to give a fillip to her, to make her
Get up. The job of runners doesn’t exist more; livelihood
Has changed in course of time. They are alive now in the 
Of  Sukanto and in the song of Hemanto.
Letters are not written now. Now none bloom
Colourful flowers of love on the floral silk-soft virgin 

Men are now busy. They write letters in dot-net. Their 
Rise and fall very fast in the key-board. Target is 
shortened message.
There is no more the rhythm of peace-and-fragrance-wet 
There is no more the secrecy of romance.
The broken lonely men are now entrapped into the net of 
These distress, feeling of miseries and the light and shade 
Failure and emptiness will not, perhaps, be able to touch 
The fragrance of crops grown in the fields of heart of men;
They will remain waste, barren.
Translation: Sayeed Abubakar


Only Life has responsibilities.
Death has no pull from its back, no sorrow, no hesitation.
He only knows how to uproot.
Such a harsh robbery and inhumane brutality
Only suit him.

Only Life is to be seized in the shackle of debt.
She is to put up with all difficult conditions
Without any question. She is to survive shamelessly
Being burnt in the fire of suffering.
Falling ill and suffering from incurable disease,
She is to live taking useless herbs of cursed hope.
Death cares nothing. Uprooting
Pleasure and success is his only purpose.
Life is such an illiterate idiot
Who wants to spread herself
Catching in vain the earth
And the humiliated broken pieces of  her existence.
Translation: Sayeed Abubakar
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