Recitation of poetry is deeply regarded for expressing your true feelings. It has been observed that Urdu poets in the past used to say poetry that depicts the social, cultural surroundings of their era. Last Updated on Sunday, October 14 2018 ... Read more
From Australia . OH, tell me, God of Battles! Oh, say what is to come! The King is in his trenches, the millionaire at home; The Kaiser with his toiling troops, the Czar is at the front. Oh! Tell me, God of Battles! Who bears the battle’s brunt? The Queen knits socks for soldiers, the Empress does the same, And know no more than peasant girls which nation is to blame. The wounded live to fight again, or live to slave for bread; The Slain have graves above the Slain—the Dead are with the Dead. The widowed young shall wed or not, the widowed old remain— And all the nations of the world prepare for war again! But ere that time shall be, O God, say what shall here befall! Ten millions at the battle fronts, and we’re five millions all! The world You made was wide, O God, the world we made is small. We toiled not as our fathers toiled, for Sport was all our boast; And so we built our cities, Lord, like warts, upon the coast. From Europe . The seer stood on the mountain side, the witch was in her cave; The gipsy with his caravan, the sailor on the wave; The sophist in his easy chair, with ne’er a soul to save, The factory slaves went forth to slave, the peasant to the field; The women worked in winter there for one-tenth of the yield; The village Granny nursed their babes to give them time to slave; The child was in the cradle, and the grandsire in his grave. The rich man slumbered in his chair, full fed with wine and meat; The lady in her carriage sat, the harlot walked the street With paint upon her cheek and neck, through winter’s snow and sleet. We saw the pride of Wealth go mad, and Misery increase— And still the God of Gods was dumb and all the world was Peace! The wizard on the mountain side, he drew a rasping breath, For he was old and near to life, as he was near to death; And he looked out and saw the star they saw at Nazareth. “Two thousand years have passed,” he said. “A thousand years,” he said. “A hundred years have passed,” he said, “and, lo! the star is red! The time has come at last,” he said, and bowed his hoary head. He laid him on the mountain-side—and so the seer was dead. And so the Eastern Star was red, and it was red indeed— We saw the Red Star in the South, but we took little heed. (The Prophet in his garret starved or drank himself to death.) The witch was mumbling in her hole before the dawn was grey; The witch she took a crooked stick and prodded in the clay; She doddered round and mumbled round as is the beldame’s way. “Four children shall be born,” she said, “four children at a birth; Four children of a peasant brood—and what shall come on earth? Four of the poorest peasantry that Europe knows,” she said, “And all the nations of the world shall count their gory dead!” The babes are born in Italy—and all the world is red! The Ship The world You gave was wide, O Lord, and wars were far away! The goal was just as near, O Lord, to-morrow or to-day! The tree You grew was stout and sound to carve the plank and keel. (And when the darkness hid the sky Your hand was on the wheel.) The pine You grew was straight and tall to fashion spar and mast. Our sails and gear from flax and hemp were stout and firm and fast. You gave the metal from the mine and taught the carpenter To fasten plank and rib and beam, and sheath and iron her. The world You made was wide, O Lord, with signs on sea and sky; And all the stars were true, O Lord, you gave to steer her by. More graceful than the albatross upon the morning breeze. Ah me! she was the fairest thing that ever sailed the seas; And when the madness of mankind burns out at last in war, The world may yet behold the day she’ll sail the seas once more. We were not satisfied, O Lord, we were not satisfied; We stole Your electricity to fortify our pride! You gave the horse to draw our loads, You gave the horse to ride; But we must fly above the Alps and race beneath the tide. We searched in sacred places for the things we did not need; Your anger shook our cities down—and yet we took no heed. We robbed the water and the air to give us “energy,” As we’d exhaust Thy secret store of electricity. The day may come—and such a day!—when we shall need all three. And lest Thou shouldst not understand our various ways and whys, We cut Thy trees for paper, Lord, where-on to print our lies. We sent the grand Titanic forth, for pleasure, gold and show; And all her skeletons of wealth and jewels lie below. For fame or curiosity, for pride, and greed, or trade, We sought to know all things and make all things that Thou hast made! From Pole to Pole we sought to speak, and Heaven’s powers employ— Our cruisers feverishly seek such language to destroy. We shaped all things for war, and now the Sister Nations wade Knee-deep in white man’s blood to wreck all things that we have made! For in the rottenness of Peace—worse than this bitter strife!— We murdered the Humanity and Poetry of Life. The Bells and the Child . The gongs are in the temple—the bells are in the tower; The “tom-tom” in the jungle and the town clock tells the hour; And all Thy feathered kind at morn have testified Thy power. Did ever statesman save a land or science save a soul?— Did ever Tower of Babel stand or war-drums cease to roll?— Or wedding-bells to ring, O Lord—or requiems to toll? Did ever child in cradle laid—born of a healthy race— Cease for an hour, all unafraid, to testify Thy grace? That shook its rattle from its bed in its proud father’s face? Cathedral bells must cease awhile, because of Pride and Sin, That never failed a wedding-morn that hailed a king and queen, Or failed to peal for victory that brave men died to win. (Or failed to ring the Old Year out and ring the New Year in.) The world You made was wide, O God!—O God, ’tis narrow now— And all its ways must run with blood, for we knew more than Thou! And millions perish at the guns or rot beside the plough, For we knew more than Thou. Henry Lawson
Urdu Poetry – Poetry is the language of heart. Emotions and feelings take the shape of words and are delivered in a poetic manner. Urdu poetry draws its existence from past 18th and 19th century which are rich in tradition and composed in various forms. Most of the Urdu poetry derives from Arabic and Persian origin. From time immemorial, Urdu poetry has been written and narrated by renowned poets of all times. Urdu poetry is enriched with such true emotions and feelings. It has been observed that Urdu poets in the past used to say poetry that depicts and highlights the social, cultural issues of their era.
The poets used Urdu poetry as a medium of expression to put their thoughts forward for the readers. The Urdu poets are known for reviving romance, culture, social & political issues in the form of Urdu poetry collections. Urdu poetry is considered as an integral part of Pakistani culture. Our history is rich with numerous poetry collections from renowned poets like Mirza Ghalib, Allama Iqbal, Mir Dard, Mir Taqi Mir, and the list goes on. Allama Iqbal and Mirza Ghalib are considered to be the flag barrier of Urdu poetry. Iqbal Urdu poetry is based on philosophy, love, and for encouraging Muslims of India. Mirza Ghalib is regarded as the greatest Urdu poets of all times. They have contributed incredibly in the form of Ghazal, Hamd, Nazm, Ruba’i, Shayari and much more. Apart from them, Mir Taqi Mir and Mir Dard are known for romantic and sad Urdu poetry. Several other maestros of Urdu Poetry have been passed who added some valuable pearls and gems to the poetic collections from time to time.
Urdu poetry has evolved and revolutionized from time to time. Previously tough Persian and Arabic words are used for narrating the Urdu poetry. Later use of simpler Urdu words have taken over and are used more oftenly. Poets like Ahmed Faraz, Parveen Shakir, Faiz Ahmed Faiz have added some valuable Urdu poetry collection that are loved and praised by masses to date. New subject matter, themes are used by new poets that has modernized Urdu Poetry. The various forms of Urdu Poetry available for the readers includes Ghazal, Hamd, Marsiya, Naat, Nazm, Qasida, Masnavi, Naat, Qawalli, Ruba’i, Shayari and much more. The poetry lovers can stock their libraries and houses with the enormous treasure of Urdu poetry. The collection of Urdu Poems in the form of Dewan and Kuliyat are preferred by those who have a taste for traditional poetry. Allama Iqbal and Mirza Ghalib have immense contribution to the Urdu poetry.
The Urdu poetry collection of Ghalib and Iqbal are researched, read and shared by masses worldwide.The modern Urdu poets possess a progressive and practical state of mind that is far from the narration of female beauty and romance. Urdu Ghazals has been associated with emotions earlier, but now the trends are changing to give it a completely new domain of expression. Many Urdu poets become popular because of their Romantic poetry include Ghazal Ahmed Faraz, Habib Jalib, Sagar Siddiqui, Muneer Niazi, Mohsin Naqvi, Farhat Abbas Shah and many others.
The archive of HamariWeb provides the evergreen Urdu poetry collection for the viewers. Some of the finest gems of Urdu Shayari are Munir Niazi, Allama Iqbal, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Ahmed Faraz, Mirza Ghalib, Habib Jalib, Parveen Shakir, John Elia, Syed Wasi Shah to name a few. You can even search, post, read, and share the Urdu poetry based on various genres that includes Eid poetry, sad poetry, patriotic poetry, love poetry, rain poetry, mother poetry, Islamic poetry etc. People with great taste in poetry are glued to this page. Find some of the finest and latest collection of Urdu poetry on HamariWeb.