Beloved''s Manifestation

Beloved''s Manifestation
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.
  

Jun, 18 2010     696 chars (5 sms)     3647 views       English Poetry

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My Pillow gazes upon me at night

Empty as a gravestone;

I never thought it would be so bitter

To be alone,

Not to lie down asleep in your hair.



I lie alone in a silent house,

The hanging lamp darkened,

And gently stretch out my hands

To gather in yours,

And softly press my warm mouth

Toward you, and kiss myself, exhausted and weak-

Then suddenly I''m awake

And all around me the cold night grows still.

The star in the window shines clearly-

Where is your blond hair,

Where your sweet mouth?



Now I drink pain in every delight

And poison in every wine;

I never knew it would be so bitter

To be alone,

Alone, without you.
Love Me In The Springtime,
When All Is Green & New,
Love Me In The Summer,
When The Sky Is Oh So Blue,
Love Me In The Autumn,
When The Leaves R Turning Brown,
Love Me In The Winter,
When The Snow Is Falling Down.
Love Me When I''m Happy,
And Even When I''m Sad,
Love Me When I''m Good,
Or When I''m Oh So Bad,
Love Me When I''m Pretty,
Or If My Face Is Plain,
Love Me When I''m Feeling Good,
Or When I''m Feeling Pain.
Love Me Always Darlin'',
In The Rain Or Shining Sun,
Love Me Always Darlin'',
Until All Our Life Is Through,
Love Me Always Darlin'',
For I''ll Be Lovin'' You.
Aaj K Frnds "I Tell U",
Kitne Busy What To Do.

Koi Mujhe Bole "I Miss U",
Koi Mujhe Bole No Time 4u.

Kash Koi Mujhse Kahe,
Oh My Dost "I Am Just 4u".:-)
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.
Because of you I chose exile,
I’ve been estranged from my tribe for some time.

I watered my flower with my tears,
Injustice! Don’t take me away from my flower.

There’s nothing wrong if a king wants a pauper,
If a pauper desires a king, he can’t help it.

My desire is too high; my luck is too low,
There is no cure for this pain but death.

What’s with the melancholic ascetic?
He argues with me about faith and religion.

The religion of the lover is the beloved.
I’m taking no path but my own.
Today is filled with anger, fueled with hidden hate.
Scared of being outkast, afraid of common fate.
Today is built on tragedies which no one wants to face.
Nightmares to humanity and morally disgraced.
Tonight is filled with rage, violence in the air.
Children bred with ruthlessness cause no one at home cares.
Tonight I lay my head down but the pressure never stops,
knawing at my sanity, content when I m dropped.
But tomorrow I see a change, a chance to build anew,
built on Spirit, intent of heart, and ideas based on truth.
Tomorrow I wake with second wind and strong ideas of pride.
I know I fought with all my heart to keep the dream alive
I fight 4 d unconventional
as ma lyf is very unconditional
i''ld try 2 b as real as i can
my disadvantage is, i neva knew d plan
i suffered alot buh still i fight
doesn''t matter i win or lose,atleast i tried
at d end ov d day, u just knw 1 thing
tht if u gt sum1,u''ve gt everything
u think tht sum1 is d world, d lyf, ur aim
buh mayb u r wrong ven lyf plays d game
dono,ve u identified me, ma lyfstyle, ma tone?
d thing tht i c is um just alone, awl alone!!!
lukin 4 d future,observing present,faced d past
u dnt gt wt u want, as d lyf passes by so fast!!
I Almost Gave In
I Almost Lost This Day
Almost Got To Me Into The Air
My Hands Tossed
Almost Walked Away
Almost Cried
Almost Threw Caution Into The Wind
Happiness For Myself I Almost Denied
Almost…
Then…
I Felt A Brush Of Love Againt My Face
Wings Wrapped Around Me In A Warm Embrace
I Heard A Whisper Into My Ear….
Dont Giveup, I’m Rite Here
Where do you run in such a hurry?
To the embracing arms of god,
Or to relish a feast, spread by the lord
Is there someone there to ferry?
To another bank of this mad river.

"Going Home", you say, and I stare
"What is home?", I''ve never known
"What do you do there?", I seek by my own
"It`s night!, I am going to sleep"
I died in laughter that day and my life long.

Slept, I have all this life, right here
On this solid ground, slept in peace.
No lack of mirth, in my hungry soul
No lack of bruises, on my lonely body
And, Slept I have in peace, right here.

"Why on the streets?", you demand to know
"Help yourselves", you seem to say
"Why, Where and How?", my eyes plead
Do you have the time to show me the way?
Poor Helpless soul, you simply walk away.
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.
Majnun is drunk from love, and Layla is drunk from coyness.
The mountain existed and this madman also existed.

The eyes of beauties were drunken and murderous.
Her tongue was like sugar, and her lips the confectioner.

The suffering boy and the loving girl existed,
the tyrant father and miser mother were also there.

That teasing that breaches faith,
the arrow of coy that pierces the soul,


It was not that Mazun was targeted last night,
the arrow was there and the target was there.
On your knee, in the lamplight,
dipping buttered toast in your coffee,
I hear the hush of the silent house.
The other children gone off to school,
you and I sit together
alone in the dim morning light,
full of love and trust,
chattering to one another about
simple times with unfurrowed brows.
We were so close then.
I hold that memory in my mind
like an old black and white photograph
one would carry in a wallet, worn soft
from years of riding in a back pocket,
a photo
showing the ones you love,
the most beautiful mother,
the best loved and dearest held,
the treasured one--
to be shown far from home.