Unexpected Scales by Kishwar Naheed (tr. by Amna Yaqeen)

I saw There was neither wood nor any baggage But still on the tray of compromise a bridge had been built Those who needed to pass had crossed it And those who were to fall had fallen

I saw There was no hand nor limb But still in a few moments, the scale had become weightless Only the walls remained The turban had lost its honour.

I saw There was nobody to press the trigger nor the rifle Still in tree houses and trenches Instead of the kettle drum of knowledge There was a tinkling sound From the toy like rifle The very first golden pages were coming out.

I saw Words that had been stripped of their covering were not dejected They were not asking for a shroud They only wanted a needle So they could rub out the relationship between words and lips.

— Salt in Wounds by Kishwar Naheed (Page 164)