“An Ode To Death”

By Dawood Kamal

Dawood Kamal was a distinguished Pakistani poet, translator, and academic, known for his contributions to English-language poetry in Pakistan. His work often explores themes of cultural identity, nature, and the human experience, blending classical influences with contemporary concerns. Kamal’s poetry is celebrated for its lyrical quality and depth.

About the poem

“An Ode to Death” is a contemplative and introspective exploration of the theme of death. The poem personifies death, treating it not as a fearsome force but as a natural, inevitable part of life. Kamal’s language is reflective, often meditative, as he delves into the complexities of mortality and the human response to it.

The poem’s tone is both solemn and accepting, suggesting a sense of peace with the idea of death. Kamal does not depict death as something to be feared but rather as a companion that walks with us throughout life. This perspective shifts the focus from fear to understanding, encouraging the reader to view death as an integral part of the human journey.

Kamal’s use of imagery is particularly striking. He uses elements of nature, such as the setting sun or the changing seasons, to symbolize the cyclical nature of life and death. These images reinforce the idea that death, like the natural world, is a process of renewal and continuity rather than an abrupt end.

The poem also reflects on the legacy one leaves behind, suggesting that while death may take the physical body, the impact of one’s life continues. This idea brings a sense of comfort, implying that death does not erase existence but transforms it into something enduring.

Overall, “An Ode to Death” is a thoughtful meditation on mortality, offering a perspective that balances the inevitability of death with the beauty and continuity of life. Kamal’s approach is both philosophical and poetic, inviting readers to reconsider their perceptions of death and to find peace in its certainty.

Text of the poem:

Your ode to death is in the lifting of a single eyebrow. Lift it
and see. (Conrad Aiken)
Death is more than certain, says e.e Cummings,
But the clocks go on ticking as before
And in every particle of carbon dust
There lives a diamond dream
How many galaxies yet to be explored-
How many seeds in the pomegranate of time?
The pine tree blasted by last year’s Thunderbolt
And the burn out match stick in my ashtray
Look so terribly alike
I have sat by your bedside and felt
Your sinking pulse. Are the hair and bones
Really indestructible and how long
Does it take for the eyes
To dissolve in the grave?
Two streams mingle in a forgotten river.
Between the eye and the tear
There is the archipelago of naked rocks
Only sleep and silence there-
No anchorage for grief.
I, too, have wandered in a forest of symbols
And clutched at the harlots of memory.
I have seen the “stars plummet to their dark addresses”
I have felt your absence around my neck
But let bygones be bygones
Who was the deceiver and who the deceived
Was I on a floating island
And were you on the shore?
Which one of us moved away?
(Daud Kamal)