Wednesday, June 30, 2010

A Stone Pelter’s Song by Feroz Rather

A Stone Pelter’s Song


Out of the last cries

Of my fellows, those boys

Killed on street yesterday,

Out of the sky and the summer rains

In my own eyes,

In my own voice,

I compose a song of freedom

Out of these stones,

Forged in the brooks of Jhelum,

These gifts from the Mountain,

Tearing the air apart

In fury, with jubilation,

Ah! Here I hit their backs,

I exist in these stones,

I don’t need to tell them,

I compose a song of freedom

Out of my own blood and brain,

Smearing my dead face,

Out of a vow of

A mother’s love for her son,

Against the dagger of Abraham

When God ceases to be an assassin,

Out of the triumph of truth

Rises a song of celebration,

I live a song of freedom

Out of the rebels’ chants,

Against their bullets,

Against the shells and the smoke of death,

Out of these slogans

Sung in unison,

These songs of defiance and anger,

I’m my own poet, a majnoon

Of this country, an unfailing lover,

I’m a stone pelter

I sing a song of freedom.

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