Beloved''s Manifestation

Beloved''s Manifestation
Beloved''s Manifestation

One who is eager for love,
the beloved''s manifestation is in his soul.

In his existence there is the sign,
in his bones, marrow, and blood.

Is the beloved a houri or a human?
Venus, the sun, or the moon?

My beloved, in short,
is neither from the earth, nor from the sky.

Day by day my beloved''s beauty becomes more elegant.
Moment by moment I become more saddened.

My beloved is closer to me than myself,
Yet, I don''t know where my beloved is.

One who has reason and knowledge,
becomes intimate with someone of his kind.

I, helpless and Majnun-like,
have become accustomed to the desert.
  

Jun, 18 2010     647 chars (5 sms)     4396 views       English Poetry

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Why

Oh God, one cannot argue with you, but,
why did you throw us in the fire of love?

You formed us with your power, and water and clay.
Why did you create the moon-like beauties?

You made eyebrows into pens, and locks of hair into lassos.
You made sugar-water limpid from sweet lips.

If you wanted me not to become afflicted and degraded,
why did you create lovesick girls?

If you wanted submission and prayers,
you would not have given beauties coquetry and coyness.

If false love is a sin,
why did you make drunkard eyes drunk?
My heart longs for you,
I want to have the feel of your arms embracing me,
Like that of an angel''s wing envoloping my soul,
With the warmth of your love.
I want to hear the whisper of your heart,
Beating ever so slightly against mine,
As we mold together,
Like the candlewax that slowly drips,
While the young lover''s explore the world of their togetherness and tender hope.
I want to be caught with you,
To fall into a surreal world,
Where time means something,
Only to those who have lost all the innocence,
That one would only be able to find,
By watching the imagination of a small child unfold before them.
I want you to love me,
Like you have loved no other.
Who Is Here? Who Is There?

In the Garden, when the autumn wind blows,
In the bird’s voice there is wailing and lamentation.

In the lovesick nightingale’s song there is a call,
with a different effect, a different mark.

Still, the nightingale is yearning for the love of the flower.
Still, the salamander is nesting in the oven.

Still, Mansur is hanging on the gallows.
He says: “I’m the Truth,” yet the secret (truth) is hidden.

Still, Zulaykha is not afraid of rebuke.
Still, Yusuf is evading Zulaykha.

Still, the Christian maiden is breaching Sheikh San’an''s faith.
Still, the Sheikh is tending her swine.
I had once thought
that maybe this was life.
No love, no hate, no feelings.
My deepest feelings would never be shared.
I was so frightened;
I didn''t know what to do.
Scared of this one man all my life.
Face my fear, I told myself!
But it''s so hard, so confusing.
Do you know what it''s like
to wonder in darkness?
It never stops, never ends.
It goes on like a story with no ending.
Do you know how it feels
to be afraid of something
that you can''t do anything about?
That you didn''t ask for or even think about?
Do you know what it''s like? Do you know how it feels?
It''s complete and pure emptiness!
One lover is roaring.
He is eager to see a shining face.

Another is distressed,
keen to see her lustrous hair.

Another desires his lover’s breasts.
Describes them as ripe pomegranates,
Hails them improperly,
Praises apples of Isfahan.

One lover says: "My beloved is going away.
My liver''s blood became my wine.
From my cry the world became deaf.
Is this friend in the grinding mill?"

Mine is above all others'' loves.
He is dear, a husband to widows.

He knows everything,
whether the meaning or the expression.

The light of his candle doesn''t vanish.
He is the beloved, I''m the lover.

He is the ocean, Mazun the fish,
How wonderful, what an endless sea he is.
Daffodils



I wander''d lonely as a cloud

...That floats on high o''er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

...A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.



Continuous as the stars that shine

...And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch''d in never-ending line

...Along the margin of a bay;

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
I dive down the sea
To get u a pearl
Its enchanting beauty caught me
When it was lying inside its shell
I picked it up just for you
But when I saw the shell it was all
Alone
Its majestic ness was lost
Its beauty was caught
I got back to present it to you
But found there nobody waiting for me
I felt just the same as the shell
I lost my pearl n I was same
Nothing without u just nothing. . . . .
Once all EMOTIONS
decided to play
Hide n Seek

PAIN started counting
...n All Other were hiding.

LIE hid near the tree..
LOVE cudn''t get a place
to hide so he hid himself
in a Rose bush..
Everyone was caught
except LOVE
But
MADNESS told PAIN abt
LOVE..
PAIN jumped in d bush n
whn came out LOVE lost
his eyes coz of the thorns..

Then GOD cursed PAIN n
he was ordered 2 b wid
LOVE 4ever.

Since then..

"LOVE is BLIND n always
accompanied by PAIN"
"A Heart" Dies When It Is Not Able To Share Its "Feelings....,

But A "Heart" Kills Itself When Another Heart Doesnt understand Its "Feeling"
A life of dreams to yet unfold.
Each passing day as we grow old.
We are but one, as we learn to walk Still,
very little as we start to talk.
By the age of five, to school we go,
To learn much more that we don''t know.
As we hit ten, our world''s the books;
Just turn the page and take a look...
One has become Moses and has seen the Beloved on Mount Sinai.
One, like Jesus, has seen the Beloved while crucified.

One has seen in the dark, another in the light.
Each person has a different path to the Friend’s neighborhood.

One becomes like soil, and kisses the threshold.
Another becomes fervent then flutters.

One, like Mazun, makes his chest a shield,
seeking the arrow of love.
The waves beside them danced, but they

....Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay,

...In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:



For oft, when on my couch I lie

...In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

...Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.