قيوم مروت
From Wikipedia
Qayum Marwat is a poet and creative genius of high calibre. He was born at Tank on December 25, 1944. His grand father belonged to village Bajukhel, Lakki Marwat, but he moved to Tank and settled permanently there in 1938. Marwat obtained his education up to MA and joined the National Bank of Pakistan for keeping the link of body and soul, and for earning something for his better half in a better manner. As a banker, he is a right man for the right job. But here we are not concerned with his profession and job. We have to look into his calibre of imagination and creation as a writer and poet. He has already attained good name for his short stories printed in book form, captioned pat makhoona (the hidden faces) for which has has won the first prize of the Hijra Award, amounting to Rs. 20,000, under the title of Khushal Khan Khattak Adabi Award, from the Pakistan Academy of Letters, Islamabad. As a poet, Qayum Marwat is one of those poets who can blend the bitter realism of the life in imaginative romanticism through flowery expression. His feeling, thought and idea stem from the unrealistic realities of the life. The overflow of his powerful thoughts and feelings appear on the face of the paper as his poetry which is, no doubt, replete with poetic touches, realistic approach, colourful humour and universal message. It may not be advisable to quote all of his verses in this brief essay. However some of them should be presented for interest of the worthy readers. He loses the luck who loses the time; That unlucky one falls in muck of time. None is poorer than the one; Who lacks the fortune of time. He would learn skill and earn perfection; Who knows the worth and value of time. Every passing minute slashes the age; The minute hand moves on to change the time.
The wise man controls the time; What a power has the time to slip! Still he is crying over the spilt milk; Hark to Qayum Marwat, telling the tale of time.
Let us enjoy the company, nothing is known! If we could meet again, nothing is known! Every sleeve may not have a hand; It may, sometime, hold snakes; nothing is known! Heavy clouds hover over the gardens; To rain or cause a storm; nothing is known! Not bad, if Qayum Marwat hides his love; People are hiding a lot of their deeds; nothing is known! *** When two loving hearts are a-flame; Other people feel jealous for nothing. What would the prosperous on care for others; If some one is in the fire or pan. How could one find a way through the burning state; Where even the thoughts catch fire. *** The sweeties have no regard for lovers' sacred hearts; As the Muslims have ignored the mosques; Every one praises the flower and its fragrance; Not looking at the dry twigs under their burden. Each couplet of verse whiten a hair on my head; Still the worthless would not admire my verses. *** Awkward is the situation around, what to say; Fraud, cheat and deceit rule everywhere, what to say! It's a lie that I can't speak; But, there is ban in your company; what to say! My single voice, how much loud it be, would make no sense; In this mute and dumb atmosphere, what to say!