Category: poetry / shayari / lyrics

on special relations

Har Baat ka Koi Jawab Nahi Hota…
Har Ishq ka Naam Kharab Nahi Hotaaa..
Yuh to Joom Lete Hai Nashe me Pine Wale
Magar Har Nashe ka Naam Sharab Nahi Hota…

………………………………..

Khamosh Chehre Par Hazaro Pehre Hote Hai ..
Hasti Aankho Me Bhi Zakham Gehre Hote Hai ..
Jinse Aksar Rooth Jaate Hai Hum ..
Asal Me Unse Hi Rishte Gehre Hote Hai ..

………………………………..

Kisi ne khuda se dua mangi,
Dua mein usne khud ki maut mangi,
Khuda ne kaha, maut to tuje de du magar,
Usse kya kahu jisne teri zindagi ki dua mangi.

………………………………..

Har insaan ka dil bura nahi hota
Har ek insaan bewafa nahi hota..,
Buj jate hai diye kabhi tail ki kami se..,
Har bar kusoor hawa ka nahi hota..!!

http://h4rd1k.tumblr.com/post/53578991291/random-thoughts

These are the things I hold divine

These are the things I hold divine:
A trusting child’s hand laid in mine,
Rich brown earth and wind-tossed trees,
The taste of grapes and the drone of bees,
A rhythmic gallop, long June days,
A rose-hedged lane and lovers’ lays,
The welcome smile on neighbors’ faces,
Cool, wide hills and open places,
Breeze-blown fields of silver rye,
The wild, sweet note of the plover’s cry,
Fresh spring showers and scent of box,
The soft, pale tint of the garden phlox,
Lilacs blooming, a drowsy noon,
A flight of geese and an autumn moon,
Rolling meadows and storm-washed heights,
A fountain murmur on summer nights,
A dappled fawn in the forest hush,
Simple words and the song of a thrush,
Rose-red dawns and a mate to share
With comrade soul my gypsy fare,
A waiting fire when the twilight ends,
A gallant heart and the voice of friends. – Jean Brooks Burt

ਜਾਗ ਪਏ ਨੇ ਜਖਮ ਪੁਰਾਣੇ

ਖੋਰੇ ਕਿਹੜੇ ਸ਼ੀਸ਼ੇ ਦੇ ਨਾਲ ਨਜਰਾਂ ਮੁੜ ਟਕਰਾਈਆਂ ਨੇ
ਜਾਗ ਪਏ ਨੇ ਜਖਮ ਪੁਰਾਣੇ ਪੀੜਾਂ ਚੇਤੇ ਆਈਆਂ ਨੇ

.

Khode kehde sheeshe de naal nazraan mud takraiyan ne
Jaag paye ne zakham purane peedan chete aayian ne

Source: ਜਾਗ ਪਏ ਨੇ ਜਖਮ ਪੁਰਾਣੇ ਪੀੜਾਂ ਚੇਤੇ ਆਈਆਂ ਨੇ

The Quiet World

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

Source: The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel

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