Forever Sonnets (Poetry Blog)

To whom the springs have teased, that's the music Of youth, to him the time seeks, that's my life. My story is like a singing stream running  By the shore with a music sweet, whenever I make someone my colleague, from the garden  I will bring buds of flowers and may adorn Her skirt with these, from the lamps of stars I may furnish that head of ours, then we would Likely stroll together like the young birds In a vineyard, we have got to live in this world. Beyond our fears. I have been lulled to sleep  Within the bonnie flowers, my life's story Is different from the others and that's clear In my starry tears, It's a tradition here that  Through fate, we become the lovers  To whom springs have teased that's the music  Of youth, to him the time seeks  that's my life. ---- Affaq Naibe 

My salvator after you, I've no other locus to dwell in, For you alone I breathe on this planet earth. Who without you can nurse me? when I've got stress in, In our prisons there is nothing called the amnesty Is it not a matter of shame for all of humanity? I once drew nearer to the tempter to achieve the sublime,  Then I paid a heavy levy to become free. You've assigned me a deed and I went a bit ahead To preach to the people, but they're unready, pursuing Their own musings that are quite dreamy dreamy, In addition, under the name of "swift progression," The regime we live in is abusing the little people. Its aims and designs are extremely greedy Doing all forms of evil to the grieving people. ---© Affaq

Hopes less and desires wider, some are thankful. Some are always expressing a sort of disquiet,  And someone’s disaster is another's delight. Some are fairly humble; they do suffer more, allright. We are held by some brute force and are unarmed, Our legs are tied with ropes, our tongues have been Sealed, we have no lofty hopes, with peace and liberty  You can make your own fortune. and in slavery You will always grow sick, today we dwell in a world  Of inequality, unjustness, tyranny and insatiability. And diese gift is given to us by the Social lords,  Political elites, they cherish the  irrational hostility,  Oftentimes, they desire to have  own monopoly  On all the institutions, resources, power, and  The public treasury, to heal this wound will require time..... ©Affaq Naibe 

DID YOU SEE MY AMOR ? In the middle of the night, I said, to the twinkling stars,  Did you see my Amor?  The reply came in non. And then I beg to the moony beams Did you see my Amor?  Again the reply came in non. And then I said to the morning breeze, Did you see my Amor?  Again the reply came in non. At length, I request to my own central part That's my tender heart, the reply  came in 'Yes' It's somewhere around closer to you, just feel. ------ ©Affaq Naibe 

DEAREST JOY  Stars slept late after spending all  their lights,  Sceneries slept early revealed the jolliness. Winds flew to far after playing the violins,  Clouds napped into ditches of the tall hills. Penguins sailed to cool groves and mute rills,  Every candle burn out slowly and silently. And the sweet night depart away sincerely,  Where are you our savior of the richest soil ? Give a voice, eyes see pensively, dearest joy In the solitude of night our spirit is annoyiny. © AFFAQ NAIBE 

Dimple of your face, where  are your child's days? Those youthful years, that name, fate and the fame. Ooh! life's nears and dears, all may have away gone. Where is your Barbie doll? Ah,  that little swimming pool. And Swan pair they used to sit in meditation on  The water's melodic tune, was it an Illusion? To the eye, or just a misunderstanding?  Where is the bird of prey? the wolves and  Tigers seeking to drive their  thirst away,  Where is your bamboo flute? Lamb on the leaping  Pasture, the night flight, glaring eyes waste away, See behind that trackless path. the wind blows Quite fast, we can't never conceal behind  As "How to live your life" is well defined. Where is your marvel of youth?  the fever of those Flaming eyes, Oops, how wonder  If you had  Strived to live for the holy truth, or maintained ties. Where is the splendid Sun?  Regent of heaven. Where is the dearie moon? pointing constant...