2- Funerals Procession

  Mourners!

  Funerals Procession never come back

  From the windows of your big houses

  how long your waiting eyes will keenly look

  at the paths of sad streets

  You only would decorate

  the arches of your houses

  with sketches of departed spirits

  like candles gone out

  The blue hanging lotus sunk in the eternity lake

  cannot open their leaves in the vases of your memory.

  The hearts separated once

  cannot meet again.

  What is life?

  The wasted stuff of wounds

  thrown in the filthy wash basin!

  after cleansing and wrapped in cotton pieces.

  Cover your head with scarves

  your loving breasts are still live

  Be careful

  as glowing fire

  under your naked feet

  waits for gushing blood.

  What is life?

  A playhouse of superstitions!

  Death has a drum in its hand to which

  the souls dance.

  Keep yourself inside the bed rooms of your houses

  Who knows

  when the corpse washers' eyes

  look at your dead bodies

  in the silence of pain.

  What is life?

  ash of humiliations

  which is drained away

  in the muck of none-being!

  With admonition and respect.

  From Kajli Bun (Elephant Jungle)

  By Saadat Saeed, Pub. Sang-e-Meel,Lahore .