Cold Blood – Poetry from the Land of Sindhu Civilization

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Words had traveled to a distant land,

All the pages were blank,

The pen was in the trembling hand,

And the poem was in the last rank.

Rafia Bukhari, an English-language poetess and writer from Larkana, Sindh shares her poetry

Rafia Bukhari-Sindh CourierRafia Bukhari, an English-language poetess and writer from Larkana, was born on June 15, 1982, to the Syed family. Her two English poetry books, “The Painful Payment” (2021) and “A Flight of Broken Wings” (2023), have already been published. The renowned author Sikandar Ali Abbasi has translated her first book, “The Painful Payment,” into Sindhi. Despite the limited English readership in the region, her books have been well-received. Her poetry often draws inspiration from the natural world, particularly the setting sun. In addition, she has translated forty to fifty stories by the renowned author Muhammad Ali Pathan into English. Some of these translations have already been published, with more to follow soon. Currently, she is pursuing her M. Phil in English at Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur, focusing on the English translations of Shah Abdul Bhittai’s Risalo.

TreeCold blood

It was an autumn-stricken tree

She sat under its shadow

And composed poetry

Near the frost-affected meadow.

 

It was a widespread thought

That poetry was blood-cold,

And

It was composed in a frozen night

With broken words and emotions untold.

 

That scene clung to the heart,

When Cobwebs stuck to the chair,

And resembled any work of art,

As the departed soul lingered in the air.

 

Words had traveled to a distant land,

All the pages were blank,

The pen was in the trembling hand,

And the poem was in the last rank.

***

Gloomy soulMessage of Gloom

Before the arrival of the evening

She received the message of gloom

It desired for screaming

In the atmosphere of her room.

 

When she and the evening

Became friends

Nobody knew about them,

Those were her childhood trends

To chase the truth, not the worldly fame.

 

It was her inner urge,

Not to mingle with the world

That was only the ocean’s surge,

And the vision of the eyes blurred.

 

Complexities of the soul are proceeding,

Living in the advanced era of history,

Day by day Disillusionment is increasing.

_______________

Read: The Sky – Poetry from the Land of Sindhu Civilization

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