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)     2614 views       English Poetry

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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.
If only the world could see what I feel
then, would the world, know who I am
I''ve loved, lost and feared the world
for it is sometimes too much to bare

Control, power, is what I fear
for I am weak inside and full of pain
I shout and cry, but knowing
there is nobody there to hear me
I swallow the shame and anger
that lies beneath me

I am lost to reality and living in time
Though I am struggling through life
and all that it offers, I am only human
and that is what makes me . . . Me.

Still, I wish for the happiness and pleasure
that I have earned, but realize that, I have
not yet overcome the world''s greatest challenge

Love! and how to accept it -
I am ready to face my fears
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.
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
On occasion we wonder what our purpose in life is,

We don’t listen to our inner voice, ignoring his.

Something inside propels us to act,

Yet we often fail to recognize it and simply don’t react.

Perhaps we have known all along,

But we are too afraid that we could be wrong.

We must take a chance on our given talent,

Each and every one of us can be valiant.

If we veer off track,

Something inside will pull us back.

Maybe it could be we are being tested,

So when our individual purpose becomes clear, it is not ignored or rejected.
“ The future is yours…….It belongs to you
With faith in God and in yourself too
No hills too high, no mountains too tall
With faith in the lord ……you can conquer them all.“
I didn’t decide to carry the load of sorrow,
sorrow existed, this house of sorrow also existed.

I didn’t lift the Jam-e Jam to drink wine,
wine existed, this house of wine also was there.

It is said: "He who created the house of love,
let the beloved burn and the lover burnt."

The cruelty of the red rose, and the cry of the nightingale—
the candle existed, and this moth also existed.

One’s pain is too much, another’s little,
one’s heart is afflicted, another’s smiles.
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.
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.
Fears wash away from one single touch
Longing to be closer so to your waist I clutch
I shuffle my feet closer to the edge
Fears resurfacing, I can''t fall from this ledge
But then you take my hand into yours, what a sensation!
I peer over the edge for a look at sweet temptation

To Keep suppressing this feeling is to keep telling lies
I don''t feel frightened when you look into my eyes
I lean over the edge just a little more
I hear you call my name again just like before
If I should let go and fall from this ledge above
Tell me, will you reach out and catch me if I fall in love?
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.
I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.