SICK LEAVE

SICK LEAVE

I urgently needed a few days off work, but I knew the Boss would

Not allow me to take leave. I thought that maybe if I acted 'CRAZY'

Then he would tell me to take a few days off.
So I hung upside down on the ceiling and made funny noises. My co-worker Sipho) asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was pretending to be a light bulb so that the Boss would think I was 'CRAZY' and give me a few days off.

A few minutes later the Boss came into the office and asked 'What are you are doing?' I told him I was a light bulb.

He said, 'You are clearly stressed out. Go home and recuperate for a couple of days.' I jumped down and walked out of the office...

When my co-worker (Sipho) followed me, the Boss asked him '...And where do you think you're going?'

(You're gonna love this.....)

He said, 'I'm going home too, I can't work in the dark.'

GATIEP

GATIEP

Gatiep sit gesuip langs Maraai se graf en tjank.

Lekker dronk verdrietig:

"Meraai as jy net terugkom hou ek op drink!"

n' Mol is besig om 'n hopie op te stoot.

Gatiep spring die hopie plat:

"Jislaaik Meraai, kan jy nie 'n grap vattie!?"

tribute to the Pakistan Army and their martyrs

CORDOBA BY ALLAMA IQBAL

CORDOBA

 By ALLAMA IQBAL

I

Chain of day and night
Creator of events
Foundation of life and death
Two-toned silken thread
Weave of attributes
Pitch of future prospects
Chain of day and night
Sitting in judgment
Setting a value upon us
Whenever we're lacking
Death, your destiny
Death, my destiny
What else is reality?
The pulse of an age
Neither day nor night
All crafts vanish
Black and white blur
Annihilation, the end

II

And yet in this form
Hues of eternal life
Splendor of man's love
Love, life's foundation
Death has no claim on love
Love, the tide
Stemming the torrent
Love, the nameless eras
Love, Gabriel's breath
Love, the Prophet of God
Love, the Word of God
Love, the radiant rose
Love, the transcendent wine
Love, the goblet of kings
Love, life's music
Love, the passion for life
Love, the fire of life

III

O, Mosque of Cordoba
Born of love with no past
Color or mortar or stone
Lyre or song or speech
Man's passionate creation
A drop of blood turns
Stone to beating hearts
The heart's cry is joy
Illumination and melody
You brighten my heart
My song wells up in my breast
You draw man's heart
Into the presence of God
But the passion of love
For God is man's alone
I ignite man's passion
Though his sight is finite
His heart's more expansive than the sky
So what if God desires, rules?
He doesn't earn the pain!
I am an Indian infidel
Witness my fervor
In my heart, prayers
On my lips, blessings
Love is my flute
Love, my song
In my every bone
"God is God"

IV

Witness of man's worth
Your glory mirrors his soul
Stone columns soar
Palms freshen Syrian sands
Sinai's roofs gleam
Gabriel crowns the minaret
A Muslim can never despair
Standing where Prophets once stood
His horizon infinite
Tigris, Danube, Nile flood his veins
Cup-bearer, stallion-rider
In love, a warrior
A sword's shadow his armor
"There is no god but God"

V

You reveal man's destiny
The ardor of his days
The dissolution of his nights
His submission
Is to God's hand
As is the believer's
Man prospers according to his deeds
He is clay and fire
Divine within
Free of both worlds
His ambition, small
His purpose, immense
Pure-hearted in peace and war
God's compass revolves
Around man's faith
Yet the world is illusion
The man of God is reason's horizon
The harvest of love
The fire of the ingathering
Heaven's passion

THE TULIP OF SINIA

THE TULIP OF SINIA

By Allama Iqbāl

1

My heart is bright, from burning inwardly.
My eyes weep blood, for all the world to see.
Am I the fool, or is it only he
Who calls all Love mere wild insanity!

3

Love grants the garden soft breezes of May.
Love teaches the meadow sunflowers to be gay.
Love rockets bright rays even into the deep
So that fishes' schools can find their way.

4

Love reckons the price of eagles cheap.
Love surrenders pheasants to the falcons’ steep
Murderous dives. Our offended hearts weep
till suddenly, out of ambush, Love leaps!

5

Love paints the tulip petals’ hue.
Love stirs the spirit’s bitter rue.
And, should you could cleave this carrion of clay,
You would behold Love’s bloodshed too.

7

A spent scent in a garden: hopes expire.
I know not what I seek, no, nor require.
But whether I am satisfied, or starved,
Still here I burn: a martyr to desire.

13

How long, my heart, will you be like the moth,
Infatuated with a bit of cloth
Or winking flame? Just once, my foolish heart,Be fully consumed in yourself, or depart

COAL TO DIAMOND

COAL TO DIAMOND

By Allama Iqbāl after Nietzsche

My flesh is so vile, I am less than dust
while your brilliance out-blazes the mirror's heart.
My darkness defiles the chafing-dish
before my cremation; a miner's boot
tramples my cranium; I'm covered with ashes.

Do you know my life's bleak essence?
Condensations of smoke, black clouds stillborn
from a single spark; while in feature and nature
starlike, your every facet's a splendor,
gleam of the King's crown, the scepter's jewel.

"Please, friend, be wise," the diamond replied,
"assume a gemlike dignity! Carbon must harden,
to fill one's bosom with radiance. Burn
because you are soft. Banish fear and grief.
Be hard as stone, be diamond."

FICTION

FICTION

By Allama Iqbāl

"Why didn't you make me immortal?"
Beauty asked God, perplexed.

God, vexed, said "The world is a fiction
fashioned from emptiness.

You were born bright, ever-changing:
true beauty is transient, estranging."

The moon overheard their discord,
beamed it on to the morning star

who whispered dawn's clouds their dark secret
till the dew heard it all, formed a tear,

and drenched all the shivering rose petals
(now survived by the hardier nettles).