Shamshan Ghot
When the Sun hides countenance
Behind the black shawl,
All of sudden the city of night
Awakes with a poisonous turn,
It begins to glimmer like heavenly bodies,
And on the measured beats of drums,
And tinkles of anklets,
Begin to sway in the air, the tinted Anchals.
Geeta, Roshi, Amereeta, and Chanda dancers,
In the herd of obstinate jingles
Dance as step feet of a peacock,
On the tones Tha Tha, Thi Thi,
They strut, twist in pride,
And after showing,
The glimpse of heartiness,
Beautify and elegance,
Making the bodies bows and arrows,
And embellishing lips with fake smiles,
Dance amid the rain
Of brand new currency noted.
There surmounts all around
The noise of unabashed guests,
The chief-whore chewing the betel leaves,
Glints up the right brow,
She is cheerful with the prettified eyes.
Think awhile!
Isn’t it a Shamshan Ghot, of womanhood,
Her Ego and reverence,
Respect and deference?
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
Notes: Shamshan Ghot: a place where the Hindus dispose of dead bodies.
Tha Tha, Thi Thi: the tones upon which the professional dancers dance.
Anchal: a piece of light thin cloth used by the women to cover heads.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
