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) 3244 views English Poetry

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People frm every walk of life

People frm every walk of life
Envisage victory and strife
But at some point u find
Tardiness in ur life and mind
Your life stops and comes to an end
And u are in oblivion with nothing to fight for or defend
Anything may stimulate it
Personal loss or a jobles status maybe fit
But such a break from your daily buzz
Lets u rethink on your deed with not much fuss
then u realise that all those painstaking days
With pangs of emotion ,joy and anger has left u frail
Making u maudlin and in a state of enigma
U wail out unconsciously ''Oh Ma...''
Then u wonder y u were ever born
Is it to end up like this ,hopeless and forlorn???
U ponder over your contribution to the world
Then as u go deeper to the murky mind,u even question the existence of such a world

Because of you

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.

some say love

some say love it is a river,
that drowns the tender reed.
some say love it is a razor,
that leaves ur soul to bleed.
some say love it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
BUT !!
i say love it is a flower,
n u r its only seed.

Wait or Forget

"It's difficult to wait for some one,
&
It's difficult to forget some one,
But
The most difficult thing is to decide wether to wait or forget some one"

As I walk through

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

Daydream

Daydream

Whenever I day dream,
and day dream I do,
in my secret garden,
I day dream of you.

I day dream of you,
in a faraway land;
embracing me tight
and holding my hand.

Holding my hand,
and touching my face.
Just you and me,
in this peaceful place.

In this peaceful place
a pristine river flows.
Where the unicorns run,
a breeze always blows.

A breeze always blows
and sings of a song;
our love in a place
where you''re never gone.

Where you''re never gone
is as it would seem,
from dusk until dawn,
whenever I day dream.

And whenever I day dream,
and day dream I do,
in my secret garden,
I day dream of you.

Laugh so hard

Laugh so hard that even
sorrow smiles at u!
Live life so well that even
death loves to see u live!
Fight so hard that even
fate accepts its defeat.

O Bearer bring the

O Bearer, bring the wine that brings joy
To increase generosity, & let perfection buoy
Give me some, for I have lost my heart
Both traits from me have kept apart
Bring the wine whose reflection in the cup
Signals to all the kings whose times are up
Give me wine, and with the reed-flute I will sing
When was Jamshid, and when Kavoos was king
Bring me the elixir whose grace and alchemy
Bestows treasures, from bonds of time sets free
Give me so they''ll open the doors once again
Of long life and the bliss that will remain
Bearer give the wine that the Holy Grail
Will make claims of sight in the Void and thus fail
Give me so that I, with the help of the Grail
All secrets, like Jamshid, themselves avail
Speak of the tale of the wheel of fate

Do You Remember

Do You Remember?

Handsome, your beauty surpasses other beauties.
Write, let me know how you are doing, peri.

Everybody did, what happens if I do?
Describing your charm in this gathering, peri?

Your breasts are like marble. Your alef-like stature resembles spruce.
Around your flower-like face, curl to curl, is ambergris scented hair.

You’d sleep and I’d stay all night till dawn,
Guarding your assets and riches, peri.

The day I fell in love with your moon-like charm.
I found that my incurable pain had no remedy.

Do you remember, I was saying: Dawn, Dawn?
Praying no ruin falls on you, peri?

I don''t know what

I don''t know what it is
that is making me fall for you.
There is just something,
something hidden within.
You are starting to mean a lot,
I hope things turn out good,
no matter what happens.
In all ways-
You will still be my friend.
I have come to know you,
you are a really fun person.
I am tired of hearing bad things
and they are all about you.
I don''t believe any of them,
because I believe you.
You would be my first boyfriend,
I wouldn''t mind that being you.
So come into my life,
as if it were yours.
You are welcome to my heart,
as long as you don''t break it.
You break it, you buy it.

On your knee

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.

What Is, Is In Love

One likes darkness, another is in the light.
Another drills to pile up worldly possessions.

What is, is in love, the rest is futile.
The world is nothing, its sultan and its shah all nothing.

Was there ever a sultan whose throne survived?
Is there a lover in this world whose name will fade?

May God bless my father who told my teacher:
"Teach my son love’s lesson, and nothing else."

Look at the soil and rock of the desert;
they’re mourning Majnun’s tears.

If Mazun dies as a pauper,
write on his tombstone: This is love’s abode. And nothing else

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Who Is Here? Who Is There?

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