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Always The Mob - Poem by Carl Sandburg

Jesus emptied the devils of one man into forty hogs and the hogs took the edge of a high rock and dropped off and down into the sea: a mob.

The sheep on the hills of Australia, blundering fourfooted in the sunset mist to the dark, they go one way, they hunt one sleep, they find one pocket of grass for all.

Karnak? Pyramids? Sphinx paws tall as a coolie? Tombs kept for kings and sacred cows? A mob.

Young roast pigs and naked dancing girls of Belshazzar, the room where a thousand sat guzzling when a hand wrote: Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin? A mob.

The honeycomb of green that won the sun as the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh, flew to its shape at the hands of a mob that followed the fingers of Nebuchadnezzar: a mob of one hand and one plan.

Stones of a circle of hills at Athens, staircases of a mountain in Peru, scattered clans of marble dragons in China: each a mob on the rim of a sunrise: hammers and wagons have them now.

Locks and gates of Panama? The Union Pacific crossing deserts and tunneling mountains? The Woolworth on land and the Titanic at sea? Lighthouses blinking a coast line from Labrador to Key West? Pig iron bars piled on a barge whistling in a fog off Sheboygan? A mob: hammers and wagons have them to-morrow.

The mob? A typhoon tearing loose an island from thousand-year moorings and bastions, shooting a volcanic ash with a fire tongue that licks up cities and peoples. Layers of worms eating rocks and forming loam and valley floors for potatoes, wheat, watermelons.

The mob? A jag of lightning, a geyser, a gravel mass loosening…

The mob … kills or builds … the mob is Attila or Ghengis Khan, the mob is Napoleon, Lincoln.

I am born in the mob—I die in the mob—the same goes for you—I don’t care who you are.

I cross the sheets of fire in No Man’s land for you, my brother—I slip a steel tooth into your throat, you my brother—I die for you and I kill you—It is a twisted and gnarled thing, a crimson wool:
One more arch of stars,
In the night of our mist,
In the night of our tears.
Carl Sandburg

Latest Urdu Poetry

Kahin jaye usey meri duyayen yaad karti hain,
Usey kehna usey meri wafayain yaad karti hain,
Main

paas aa k sab hi dur chale jate hai,
hum akailay hain akele hi reh jate hai,

Dil ka dard dikhaya

Jag Mein Aa Kar Idhar Udhar Dekha

Tu Hi Aya Nazar Jidhar Dekha

Saleeqa ho agar bheegi aankhon ko parhne ka Faraz!
To behte huwe aansoo bhi akser bat kartey hen!

The circle is broken, one seat is forsaken,
One bud from the tree of our friendship is shaken;
One

Wehshatain Barhti Gayin Hijr Ke Aazaar Ke Saath
Ab Tou Ham Baat Bhi Kartay Nahi Gham Khwaar Ke Saat

Aaj bhi qaafila-e-ishq ravaan hai ke jo tha,
Wohi meel aur wohi sang-e-nishaan ke jo tha,
Phir ter

Aaj badal kalay gehray hain,
aaj chand pay lakhon pehray hain,

Kuch tukray tumhari yaadon k,
ba

nind aai na khula raat ka bistar mujh se
guftugu karta raha chand barabar mujh se
apna saya use

Khudaariyon ke khuun ko arzaan na kar sake,
Hum apne jauhron ko numaayaan na kar sake,
Ho kr khara

Pani Pani Kar Gyi Mujh Ko Qalandar Ki Ye Baat

Tu Jhuka Jab Ghair Ke Agay, Na Mann Tera Na Tann

Several weeks ago I discovered a photograph of my mother
sitting in the sun, her face flushed as wi

Kathan Safar Hai Muhabbaton K Serab Rasty Hain Soch Lena
Wo Chorr Jate Hen 1 Qadam Pr Jo 7 Chalte

Wo Darjan Bhar Maheeno Se
Zara Mumtaz Lagta Hai

December Kis Liye Akhir
Hamesha Khas Lagta Hai

Ek Shakhs Ko Deakha Tha Taro Ki Tarha Ham ny
Ek Shaks Ko Chaha Tha
Apno Ki Tarha Ham ny
Ek Shaks

phir shab-e-gam ne mujhe shakl dikhai kyon kar
ye bala ghar se nikli hui ai kyon kar
tu ne ki gair

Kal Halki Halki Barish Thi
Kal Sard Hawa Ka Raqs Bhi Tha

Kal Phool Bhi Nikhrey Nikhrey They
Kal

NOT occasion makes the thief;

She's the greatest of the whole;
For Love's relics, to my grief,

Tum Marasim Main Bhi Mosam Ki Ada Rakhtay Ho
Kabhi Barastey Ho Tu Kabhi Boond Ko Tarsaty Ho

Pal

Aik qatra malaal bhi boya nahin geya,
Woh khauf tha ke logon se roya nahin geya,
Yeh sach hai ke t

Urdu Poetry

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.

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