LAMENT OF THE WILTED STREAM : Imran Yousuf
Imran Yousuf
Filled to the brim, I'm with
the thoughts of wilderness.
Absorbed, doomed, lamenting
in a placeless realm.
Dark clouds, green pastures, wilted stream.
The goblet once satiated with rhymes,
songs, and art,
is now lying forlorn, glazed, looted in wilderness,
Like Majnu- deserted in the vale of Laila!
Like Yousuf- being sold in the bazaar of Zulaikha!
Like Farhad- bestowing his life for the name of Shirin.
It's the state of solitude, silence, and anguish.
The paled moon is the witness of this doomed state of existence.
The fire blazing inside reaches to the depths,
absorbing every drop of crimson water
running through the lamenting veins of this sad soul.
It's the season of spring, but no bud has
conveyed the message of redolent days yet.
I am here on the threshold of my garden,
Waiting on the doorsill under gloomy clouds.
The bards have become beggars of fate;
They no more sing the songs of glory.
I can witness the green pastures but no vibes of fortune.
The wilted stream in the lap of my yard
has already given up- forfeiting its
shimmering current to the wind of dead soil.
The state of wilderness has finally overmastered
the season of spring.
(Imran Yousuf is a poet, writer, columnist, and translator from Kashmir. His poems and translations have appeared in leading literary magazines and international anthologies, and he has co-authored over 30 collections. He is well known for his acclaimed series on Kashmir’s Sufi poets, now being compiled into a book.)
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