Thread by @joerave

The Dawn of Freedom, August 1947
This light, smeared and spotted, this night‐bitten dawn
This isn’t surely the dawn we waited for so eagerly
This isn’t surely the dawn with whose desire cradled in our hearts
We had set out, friends all, hoping we should somewhere find the
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final destination Of the stars in the forests of heaven
The slow‐rolling night must have a shore somewhere
The boat of the afflicted heart’s grieving will drop anchor somewhere
When, from the mysterious paths of youth’s hot blood the young fellows moved out
Numerous were the
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hands that rose to clutch the hems of their garments,
Open arms called, bodies entreated
From the impatient bedchambers of beauty—
But the yearning for the dawn’s face was too dear
The hem of the radiant beauty’s garment was very close
The load of Desire wasn't too heavy
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Exhaustion lay somewhere on the margin
It’s said the darkness has been cleft from light already
It’s said the journeying feet have found union with the destination
The Protocols of Those who held the Pain in their Hearts have changed now
Joy of Agony -Yes;
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Agony of separation—forbidden!
The burning of the liver, the eyes’ eagerness, the heart’s grief Remain unaffected by this cure for disunion’s pain;
From where did the Beloved, The morning Breeze come?
Where did it go ?
The street lamp at the edge of the road has no notion yet
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The weight of the night hasn’t lifted yet
The moment for the emancipation of the eyes
and the heart hasn’t come yet
Let’s go on, we haven’t reached the destination yet
---
Translated from #FaizAhmedFaiz poetry
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