My Inspirational Poetry:- “FIGHT TILL YOUR LAST BREATH”


If Blood is Showering Out of Your veins,

If the Lesions & wounds are Giving you Pain

And Even If Circumstances are Showing your Death,

In spite of that, Fight Till Your Last Breath.


No Matter If you are Sailing On a Tidal Ocean,

No Matter If conditions Prevailing give you Tension

And Even If There is No Time Left For you to Regret,

In spite of that,Fight Till Your Last Breath.


What Happen If Night Always Comes Before the Morning,

What Happens if Every second Intensity of Darkness is Increasing

And Even If, darkness is Giving Brightness a Terrible Threat,

In spite of that,Fight Till Your Last Breath.


What Happens If you feel yourself alone on this Land,

What Happens, If your Shadow Remains your Only Friend

And Even If,you are Deprived of Love From anybody as yet,

In spite of that,Fight Till Your Last Breath.


It is Blissful, If you come out as Victorious in the End,

But if all Your Efforts & Attempts Go in to the Sand

Then You Need not to Strike your Head with a Stone,

Because Fighting Till Last Breath is a Victory on its Own.

A Inspirational Poetry Composed By:- Syed Sabah ur Rehman-‘Aatif’



I am not saying that I am very Big poet,…but I can just say..that I have a Tremendous experience of on the basis of that..I am elaborating few TIPS…

1.MEANINGFUL:-while writing any sher (poetry) we should not only concentrate to make last words similar or Rythematic ,but also on making our creation meaningful or message giving.In order to just complete ur sher,don’t use such words which may be rythematic/similar but senseless or meaningless.this will no doubt complete ur sher in a minimum time,but will produce a non effective or non Interesting sher.

so always concentrate on making ur sher MEANINGFUL

2.DEEP THNINKING:-Think as Deep as u can,while writing. Any SHER/GHAZAL/NAZM will be much more effective,if it has been written after Deep thinking.

3.HEART TOUCHING:-Do not write with pen but write with ur Heart..means feel it first spiritually/emotionally & then write.A poet can be called a poet only if his poetries reaches to the HEART of his listeners & Readers(this thing I have mentioned in my book also)
Your language of Urdu may be easy or hard but the THEME of ur poetry should be such that It may create “VIBRATIONS” in the HEART of a Reader/listener.

so,follow these 3 tips of poetry writing & give ur Readers a BEAUTIFUL POETRY.



Flower Of Love – Poem by Oscar Wilde

Flower Of Love – Poem by Oscar Wilde

Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common
I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet, seen the fuller air, the
larger day.

From the wildness of my wasted passion I had struck a better, clearer song,
Lit some lighter light of freer freedom, battled with some Hydra-headed wrong.

Had my lips been smitten into music by the kisses that but made them bleed,
You had walked with Bice and the angels on that verdant and enamelled meed.

I had trod the road which Dante treading saw the suns of seven circles shine,
Ay! perchance had seen the heavens opening, as they opened to the Florentine.

And the mighty nations would have crowned me, who am crownless now and without
And some orient dawn had found me kneeling on the threshold of the House of

I had sat within that marble circle where the oldest bard is as the young,
And the pipe is ever dropping honey, and the lyre’s strings are ever strung.

Keats had lifted up his hymeneal curls from out the poppy-seeded wine,
With ambrosial mouth had kissed my forehead, clasped the hand of noble love in

And at springtide, when the apple-blossoms brush the burnished bosom of the
Two young lovers lying in an orchard would have read the story of our love;

Would have read the legend of my passion, known the bitter secret of my heart,
Kissed as we have kissed, but never parted as we two are fated now to part.

For the crimson flower of our life is eaten by the cankerworm of truth,
And no hand can gather up the fallen withered petals of the rose of youth.

Yet I am not sorry that I loved you -ah! what else had I a boy to do? –
For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.

Rudderless, we drift athwart a tempest, and when once the storm of youth is
Without lyre, without lute or chorus, Death the silent pilot comes at last.

And within the grave there is no pleasure, for the blindworm battens on the
And Desire shudders into ashes, and the tree of Passion bears no fruit.

Ah! what else had I to do but love you? God’s own mother was less dear to me,
And less dear the Cytheraean rising like an argent lily from the sea.

I have made my choice, have lived my poems, and, though youth is gone in
wasted days,
I have found the lover’s crown of myrtle better than the poet’s crown of bays. 


My New Ghazal—->”INTEHAA ABHI BAAQI HAI”(the limit is yet to come)


Jal gaye Mere Armaan Saare Par Dhuaa(n) abhi Baaqi hai,
Juda hai Meri Rooh Mujhse phir bhi Jaa(n) abhi Baaqi hai.

Mere Dil Jigar Jaan Me Meri Saanson me Meri Aaanhon Me,
Aur Kya Kahun Ki Wo Mujh me Kahan Kahan abhi Baaqi hai.

Ya khuda Nahi kee Uff Maine Tere Kisi Imtehaa(n) Pe Lekin,
Bata de bas Itna ki Kitne Aur Imtehaa(n) abhi Baaqi hain.

Ghabrane Lagi hai Meri Qismat bhi Dekhke Junoon-e-Ishq Mera,
Aey Qismat ! Ye To Sirf Ibteda Hai , Intehaa abhi Baaqi hai.

Maana Bujhte Dikh Rahe Meri Ummeedon Ke Chiragh Sabhi,
Par Mere Dil Me Jal Rahi Ummeed Ki Shamaa abhi Baaqi hai.

Hongey Gar Hazaar Tukdey Mere Dil ke To har Tukda Bolega,
Ki ‘Aatif ‘me Usey Paane Ka Wohi Jazbaa Abhi Baaqi hai.

a Ghazal Composed By SYED SABAH UR REHMAN-Aatif’



pebbles in ponds glisten
fish swim over fins christen
love is a nested ring

smart girls stumble upon garden roots
girls in glasses shoo off new shoots
love is a broken thing

he writes her name with quiet fingers
spells her lips with love he brings her
love is a nested wing

Bunnies shan’t nibble new bouncy mates
Bouncers trounce with rakes at gates
love is a tempest thing

market to market to sell fat hogs hearken…his love doesn’t cry
his belted shorts aren’t a bargain…soft saffron in his eyes
love is a forever scented sigh

BY: Kae Bucher



I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You – Poem by Pablo Neruda

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You 


I do not love you except because I love you; 
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it’s you the one I love; 
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood. 

by: Pablo Neruda

Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou

Phenomenal Woman 


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

by: Maya Angelou


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