Md Sarfaraj Nawab,

 

A POEM IS LIKE A PAINTING?

Canvas full of hues
Or brushes soaked with paints
Do not do justice
Or give your charms
The equal dress.
My heart cannot follow
Those arts and
Yet I try to
Paint you with my words.

‘a poem is like a painting’?
Is it so?
In a painting
Remains fixed your face
But still then
In words you
And your beauty
Find a thousand shapes
Full of heavenly grace.

In my words
You are not
The same as
You be in
My mind’s canvas.
You ever change
And come with
Meanings and colors
All new as
My words are
Repeatedly read.

On a canvas
I do see you.
Where in paper
I read you
Feel you best.
You are not
An idea all
Abstract finding place
In woods or
In papers wet.
You are beauty
Given a human
Shape by the almighty.

Where in painting
I just copy
Your appearance.
In my words
You are more than that.
You’re not merely
A copy of you.
I find you alive
In each my words.
And by them
I can crowd my room
With your praise
Making a loud
Voice and utter
Your heavenly name.
That a painting,
I hardly think can…
For often I doubt,
Even my words are
Not worthy enough
To sing your glory,
Then how the paintings,
Or any other arts
Can define you?

 

 

WHEN YOU WILL LOVE ME TOO

I often think
Or just imagine,
How would it be,
If you would,
Love me too?

This very thought,
leaves me with
a sense divine.
And immense pleasure
at being your dear.

I stare at you,
you watch me too,
as the love-birds ever do,
and find me blessed,
to find here you.

I take your hands
hold them for hours,
and kiss at your head,
and lose ourselves
in our world of love.

I hold you hard
in my breast,
and change with you,
my heart beats too,
with all my other senses.

Hence I love you,
but yet you dont,
you don’t feel the like
that I feel for you,
yet I say, worry you not!

Let me just think,
and imagine you,
as if you love me now,
like fool I wean myself
that you will love me too

THOUGH I MAY THINK IN VAIN…

 

 

YOU THE BEST OF HUMANITY

And the wind blew,
Filtering thorough your
Hairs that have some
Celestial move inside,
Provided me with
Some fresh new breath.

With its blow,
My long crumpled soul,
Fluttered along with
Your naive and
Embalmed syllables full
Of some divine joy.

My unnecessary words,
May sound annoying
You have thousands more,
To take care of you,
And my existence,
For you is no more,
Than a mustard seed right now.

Still know, my Charm,
This tiny heart
Has intentions to grow big,
Like a Bunyan tree,
To shade your
Heavenly look all beauteous.

Each second with you,
Be immortal in this mortal,
Each of your staring
Keeps the forte
To freeze me with love,
For you’re the best of womanhood.
And will live through all the worlds.
And this man will be by your side,
Whether you know or not
As wind, as soul before be it cold anon!

 

 

A LOVE STORY

I loved a girl.

Sweetest amongst all.

But she was too little

To in that passion fall.

I waited for years.

So that she can grow.

My love doubled.

Beauty was in her brow.

I saw her tall-ing

With her shining face.

Sparking luster

And a divine grace.

She walked all different

From the common mass.

Took joy in things that

People not see and pass.

She grew handsome

More than any belle.

And bore in her soul

All sweet Arabia’s smell.

This was her beauty,

More than any can tell.

She was a heavenly wind,

In the gallows of hell.

 

I wanted her love.

For her I did live.

But the cruel Time

Hatched a plan massive.

As she embraced all

Her youthful days,

I grew pale and

Decay did me chase.

My limbs did shake

And wrinkled all skin.

Hairs all came white

I grew ‘specter thin’.

My steps too faltered

And heard not what I said.

I lost my glory

With decaying dust was made.

 

Now she is by my side

With her love fully grown.

Counting each my breath,

With tears and heart all torn.

She can love me now

But now I hardly can.

For death is at my door,

Waiting for this man all wan.

Now she is beauty

And I am incarnate old.

Now she is to be loved.

And myself in my

Coffin to be hold…

 

 

Unrequited Love

Here I write,
NOT TO OFFEND YOU.
Since you are hurt
With my verse.
Still I write,
I go on sing
Of your glory,
As just a treatment
Of my heart.

That ’tis ill,
And suffering too,
Your name that it,
In its systoles do!
PLEASE DON’T BE HURT,
Let the pain be mine,
Merry be you,
And let me pine
For your care forever!

I know you
Want not what
My heart does want.
Maybe you think
Me creep that
Falsely for your love
Does hunt.
But hope dies never!
Unlike me and you.

Hence let me dream
In my dream since
Truth is something else.
But no lullabies
Can delay the wake
Of the sense!
I will remain as such,
And so will you
And men will keep aging…

Perchance this world
Is too small a place,
To lodge our loves together!
We need two different
Globes for the sole
Amount of our love.
This one is filled
With my love alone,
And yours divine one
Will reside in
The world beyond THIS…
Beyond life…
And these two loves
Will mix up
In a place that will
Unite us as ONE.

 

Md Sarfaraj Nawab, a student pursuing my masters degree in English mdliterature in the University of Gour Banga.