Skip to main content

At the hour of Last breath




(A poem by Rafeeque Ahammad. Translated by Anand )






Stay with me at the hour of my last breath,
Amassing the burning veracities of life,
My Fingers are dead,
Let them get ease by caressing you.
Last molecules of my breath may cart thy fragrance.
My love, let thy face plunge
In the eyes of mine, never to be opened.
Ears, no longer be opened for sounds,
Be sealed with thy mellifluousness.
Mind, burning with thoughts and memoir,
Be filled with thy evergreen memories.
Kisses-made scars on my lips,
Heal in the sweet chants of thy name.
Reminiscences of journey,
 Unto thee my love, my feet tranquil.
That’s enough for me,
Buried under the earth,
I resurrect-
Newborn leaves of grass.

Comments

  1. it's touching. something that breaks the heart. think you are in deep love 'because i have been reading all your posts and the comments for the previous posts too.
    absolutely fantastic and deep from the hearts. take my credit my friend, u r original.

    ReplyDelete
  2. First, who's the 'Dewdrop'? Anyways, she must be the lucky one dear Anand! Actually, what was going with your previous post "I am an Utopian...” I actually thought about dropping my comments there, but later, when I have read all the comments and replays, I didn't want to break the flow of the beautifully and marvelously woven real-life or subjectively reflected story. I felt that original. Anyways "Dewdrop" and you did well. Is she real? You people worked well together if that was real. But, sincerely, somewhere in the comments, I felt sorry for her (yes, I felt sorry for her for running away from 'his' love)! Anand, you express your feeling beautifully and the readers like me feel it too. Do keep writing.
    Well, wishes for your 'Platonic love'.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. nice to see u again! well, let the 'Dewdrop' remain in my memories. I don't want to share it, let it live and die with me! (you know me) hahaha. and you said it, 'Platonic'! yup dude, that's it. (and your sorry for her, i have no comments!)anyways , thank you for not dropping your comments in "I am an Utopian..." keep in touch.

      Delete
  3. And I wonder why I'm not in love with you already... :') Beautiful rendition..
    Was busy with stuff.. Will reply soon.. ;)

    - Dewdrop

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. well, i don't wonder!
      "The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt within the heart."- Helen Keller

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dead and Buried

We all leave something behind—not by accident, but for a reason we don’t fully understand. As though some cosmic law silently demands it of us. And we obey, unknowingly, yet unfailingly. We, fragile creatures, live not just to exist, but to leave traces of that existence—marks etched in time, invisible perhaps, but undeniably real. We come into this world incomplete, having left a piece of ourselves elsewhere. When we first take the shape of a foetus in the womb, something essential is set aside. And when we die, we don’t simply vanish; we begin a journey back—to retrieve what was once ours, what we unknowingly surrendered. But even in that act of return, we leave more behind. Our lives are full of quiet departures. A moment. A glance. A word. Our love lingers. Our memories settle into the corners of rooms. Our shadows remain stretched across places we’ve passed through. Our presence clings to people in subtle, haunting ways. Sometimes we leave behind dreams never fulfilled, words nev...

Unknowing

I choose the heart of darkness — not in despair, but in reverence — to immerse myself in its monstrous chaos, the womb from which all beginnings bleed into existence. I do not flee the shadows; I invite them. I slow the light, restrain it, keep it from intruding too close—because some truths are born only where light hesitates.  I sense what is coming. The slow unravelling of the world. A moment when day and night lose their boundaries and collapse into a single breath. When direction dissolves and humanity forgets where it stands. Time loosens its grip. Space forgets its shape.  In that hour, man will begin to speak languages he has never learned, utter sounds older than memory itself. He will see beyond the limits of his eyes, hear frequencies never meant for human ears. Perception will stretch, fracture, expand—until meaning itself trembles.  And in that unsettling clarity, where fear and wonder merge, the truth will no longer hide. It will rise—not in light, but in t...

Wake me up...

Wake me up when December bells. until then, let me sleep in thy...