Who Is Here? Who Is There?

Who Is Here? Who Is There?
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.
  

Jun, 18 2010     634 chars (4 sms)     3010 views       English Poetry

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Give me death! I pray every day
Leave me not, to sigh, in every way
Seen I have, those beautiful days
Those little red flowers in an awesome place.

Why these windows, in front of me?
And all the beauty outside, and free
Ran, I have upon the soft wet ground
I walk far no more, just safe and sound

My beloved ones, have all gone away
Laughter, I yearn to hear, to be merry and gay
Tears, I have in my heart and dreams too
Like my youth, won`t the pills vanish too?

Years and years, have I spent in glee?
To sit here and look at the old worn tree
Searched I have, for a leaf of hope,
A lover from the skies, with whom to elope
A carousel forever turning
They care not, self is paramount
All egos blazing
Hour after endless hour they continue
On
Leaving me alone
Cornered, with nowhere to run
Only one can end this
Your refusal burning deep
Branding me, scarring my psyche
I pray to sleep eternally this night
For tomorrow brings more pain
And I can face no more tomorrows
No home to succor me
Who will care, responsibility is for
Those who accept it and try to make it right
I am here, my love is real, tangible
Yours to accept
Don''t shut me out
Don''t push me from you
For then there will be no more
Tomorrows
Only eternal peace
I Cry
Sometimes When I''m Alone
I Cry,
Cause I Am On My Own.
The Tears I Cry Are Bitter And Warm.
They Flow With Life But Take No Form
I Cry Because My Heart Is Torn.
I Find It Difficult To Carry On.

If I Had An Ear To Confiding,
I Would Cry Among My Treasured Friend,
But Who Do You Know That Stops That Long,
To Help Another Carry On.


The World Moves Fast And It Would Rather Pass By.
Then To Stop And See What Makes One Cry,
So Painful And Sad.
And Sometimes…
I Cry
And No One Cares About Why.
SHAKESPEARE SAYS,
"It is not necessary to share
everything between true friends.
But it is necessary
that what you share must be true."
It used to be life was one big dream
and the time we spent together
got me through each day

Then my days grew dark
and my dream faded away,
cause now you are gone
and once again I''m left all alone

You broke my heart like no one
else could ever do and you lied,
still I had faith and I trusted you

Even though now our love
has came to an end
I know in my heart that you''ll
pass and I''ll love again.

The sweet laughter—I didn’t love in vain.
I didn’t graft reason onto love.

She pulls me, she pulls me with her lasso-like braid.
How could I be separated from her ambergris-scented hair?

Peris, lovely, tall beauties –
Mazun won’t refuse if they want his soul.

I’ve put my head in their path.
My head’s bad luck is because of my tongue.
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.
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.
HOW FRIENDSHIP BREAKS ?


Both Friends Will Think The Other Is Busy And Will Not Contact Thinking It May Be Disturbing,As Time Passes Both Will Think

Let The OTher Contact,After That each Will Think Why I Should Contact First ?Here Your friendship Will Be Converted To

Hate,Finally Without Contact The Memory Becomes Weak,They Forget Each Other. So Keep In Touch With All And Pass This TO All

Your Friends... I Don`t Want To be One Of This Kind. So Here I Am sending Mail To Say Please keep in touch.
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.
PRAY ALWAYS
pray when you are young
pray when you are strong
pray when you are busy
pray when you are lazy
pray when you''ve much to do
prat when you''ve nothing to do
pray when you are weary
for now you need god''s caring.
pray when you are blue
pray when you have flu
pray when you are gay
pray when you are okay
don''t wait till you have become old
neither wait till you become bald
life may be long,life may be short
but prayer must be first at a day''s start.
As I walk through the valley
of the shadow of LA
The footsteps that were next to me
have gone their separate ways
I''ve seen enough now
to know that beautiful things
don''t always stay that way
I''ve done enough now
to know this beautiful place
isn''t everything they say