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1. Spec­tro­gram Of A Pic­to­r­i­al Poem — Poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir

   The walls have come out of doors
   Paths have tapered
   and foot­prints are more
   on the slopes of the half­down sun
   jump­ing over one’s own shad­ows
   to fall head­long
   is a real truth, noth­ing strange.
   While dream­ing some old dream
   eyes know not
   that how much water has come out from their oceans.
   It is easy to cross a riv­er
   but how dif­fi­cult is to find a toe­hold on its bank.
   While pass­ing from the envi­rons of human set­tle­ments
   the paths of his­to­ry are lost in
   fields, mead­ows
   grapes-gar­dens
   and in the body con­tours of women.
   Until the new crops are reaped
   weath­ers keep on defer­ring;
   Philoso­phies are for a few peo­ple
   and death for all.
   Fail­ure to com­pose a poem
   is not the poet­’s tragedy
   when life is suf­fer­ing with per­pet­u­al death
   death becomes a worn out cliché.
   Water­ing the abol­ished days
   breeds noth­ing but the toil of heart­less­ness.
   Before we are seen in the state of lone­li­ness
   from an unseen dis­tant star -
   Come! Let’s walk through the main doors of these aged build­ings
   where stand­ing like sen­tries’ enslaved souls
   have turned into bod­ies wrapped in dust
   and brit­tle bones
   and just with a touch of hand
   will fall into their own feet.
   The birds of clouds
   and fluffs of rains
   are not remote from the reach of the weath­er pro­tec­torate!

   (Trans­la­tion from Urdu by Bina Biswas)