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Disabled - Poem by Wilfred Owen

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
In the old times, before he threw away his knees.
Now he will never feel again how slim
Girls' waists are, or how warm their subtle hands.
All of them touch him like some queer disease.

There was an artist silly for his face,
For it was younger than his youth, last year.
Now, he is old; his back will never brace;
He's lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,
And half his lifetime lapsed in the hot race
And leap of purple spurted from his thigh.

One time he liked a blood-smear down his leg,
After the matches, carried shoulder-high.
It was after football, when he'd drunk a peg,
He thought he'd better join. - He wonders why.
Someone had said he'd look a god in kilts,
That's why; and maybe, too, to please his Meg,
Aye, that was it, to please the giddy jilts
He asked to join. He didn't have to beg;
Smiling they wrote his lie: aged nineteen years.

Germans he scarcely thought of; all their guilt,
And Austria's, did not move him. And no fears
Of Fear came yet. He thought of jewelled hilts
For daggers in plaid socks; of smart salutes;
And care of arms; and leave; and pay arrears;
Esprit de corps; and hints for young recruits.
And soon, he was drafted out with drums and cheers.

Some cheered him home, but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then enquired about his soul.

Now, he will spend a few sick years in institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
Tonight he noticed how the women's eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is! Why don't they come
And put him into bed? Why don't they come?
Wilfred Owen

Latest Urdu Poetry

Dil to karta hai zindagi ko kisi qaatil k hawalay kar doon SAAHIL
Judai mein ye roz roz ka marna mu

yahi ik baat aksar mujhe tajasus mai rakhti hai,
mohabbat bheek hai shayad, tabhi mushkil sey milty

WE overstate the ills of life, and take
Imagination (given us to bring down
The choirs of singing

ओ कल्पव्रक्ष की सोनजुही!
ओ अमलताश की अ

Once upon a time there was an Italian,
And some people thought he was a rapscallion,
But he wasn't

Koi dastak hui, koi aahat, koi aawaz hui..
Tu dabey paanv khyaalon mein chali aati hai.. !

Aksa

Shab e intezar ki kashmakash mai na poch kaise sehar howi

Kabhi aik chiragh jala diya Kabhi aik c

Yun Hi Mausam Ki Ada Dekh Kar Yaad Aya Hai,
Kis Qadar Jaldh Badal Jaty Hain Insaan Janan…

Jin Ky Yaar Bichrray Hoon Un Ka Sukoon Say Kya Talluq

Un Ki Aankhon Mein Neend Nahi Sirf Aansu A

Hosla Haar Gaye Baat Barhai Na Gayi,
Un Ki MehfiL Me Zuban Hum Se Hilai Na Gayi.

Kitna Kehte T

Assi Nazuk Dil Dey Lok Han, Sada Dil na Yar Dukhaya Kar,
Na Jhooty Wady Kitta Kar, Na Jhooti Qasma

Dukh bhi deta hai woh dawaa bhi deta hai,
Mujhe woh mohabbat karne ki sazaa bhi deta hai,
Main yaa

Abhi waqt hai abhi sans hai abhi loat aa merey GUMSHUDA.

Mujhay naaz hai bare zabt ka mujhay kho

Now, listen to me, folks...
Hear what I say.
You got to eat oysters everyday
They'll put your

گرمی سہی کلام میں مگر نا اتنی سہی
کی جس سے بات اسنے شکای

Tum ne pocha hy chalo tum ko bata dety hain,
Jo hum par guzri hy tum ko b suna dety hain,

Tery

ab to kuch aur bhi andhera hai
ye meri rat ka sawera hai
rahzanon se to bhag nikla tha
ab mujhe r

Apni Gali Mai Mujh Ko Na Kar Dafan Bad-e-Qatl
Mere Pate Se Khalq Ko Kyun Tera Ghar Mile

Cross the hands over the breast here--so.
Straighten the legs a little more--so.
And call for th

Hounto Pe Hunsi Dekh Li Dil k Ander Nahe Dekha,
Aap Ne Mere Gahmoo ka Samounder Nahe Dekha,

Kitn

Urdu Poetry

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