This is the way that autumn came to the trees: it stripped them down to the skin, left their ebony bodies naked. It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves, scattered them over the ground. Anyone could trample them out of shape undisturbed by a single moan of protest. The birds that herald dreams were exiled from their song, each voice torn out of its throat. They dropped into the dust even before the hunter strung his bow. Oh, God of May have mercy. Bless these withered bodies with the passion of your resurrection; make their dead veins flow with blood again. Give some tree the gift of green again. Let one bird sing.
Faiz Ahmed Faiz - 1911-1984
India-Pakistan War: 1965 Since our lights were extinguished I have been searching for a way to see; my eyes are lost, God knows where. You who know me, tell me who I am, who is a friend, and who an enemy. A murderous river has been unleashed into my veins; hatred beats in it. Be patient; a flash of lightning will come from another horizon like the white hand of Moses with my eyes, my lost diamonds.