One has become

One has become
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.
  

Jun, 18 2010     399 chars (3 sms)     2352 views       English Poetry

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It''s a human sign
When things go wrong
When the scent of her lingers
And temptation''s strong

Into the boundary
Of each married man
Sweet deceit comes calling
And negativity lands

Cold cold heart
Hard done by you
Some things look better baby
Just passing through

And it''s no sacrifice
Just a simple word
It''s two hearts living
In two separate worlds
But it''s no sacrifice
No sacrifice
It''s no sacrifice at all
When the sunrays hit your eyes
Making the world so bright
And you still see the world
As dark as one sad dark night
When you try to breathe...
...new air of a new era
and the fact is around your neck,
holding it so tight
this is when you know that your life
has changed totally but you dont know
is it a change from right to left
or left to right
from white to black
or.. from black to white.......
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.
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.
~*~ OLD MEMORIES ~*~

I treasure sweet old memories
As the time goes swiftly by
A few bring smiles of happiness
And some tears to the eye

They all r precious in their way
Reopening the door of old
That have been shut these many years
What pictures they unfold

These dear old, sweet old memories
All play their special part
In bringing joy and opening up
The latch strings of the heart ... (:->
i sit in the park where i dwell,
for this girl i love so well.
she took my heart away from me,
now she wants to set me free.



i see a boy on her lap,
she says things to him she never said to me.
i ran home to cry on my bed,
not a word to mother was said.


father came home late that night,
he looked at me from left to right.
he saw me hanging from rope,
he took his knife to cut me down,
and on my dress a note was found.



dig my grave,dig it deep.
dig my grave, from head to feet.
and on the top place a dobe.
and remember this, i did for love.
These tears won''t fall,
I won''t let them drop,
I''ll wipe my eyes,
I''ll make them stop,

These tears won''t fall,
I won''t let you see,
All of the pain,
That you''ve caused to me,

These tears won''t fall,
I''ll hide them away,
Faking a smile,
For another day,

These tears won''t fall,
I''ll pretend that I''m strong,
But inside I know
That it won''t befor long,

These tears won''t fall,
Nobody will see,
I''ll bury them deep
Inside of me,

These tears won''t fall,
I won''t let them drop,
I''ll wipe my eyes,
And I''ll make them stop
I don t have everything
as a matter of fact I don t have anything
except dream of a better day
and you 2 help me find my way
Being a man I am sure 2 make mistakes
but 2 keep u I would do all it takes
and if it meant my love was really true
I d gladly die and watch over u
I wish u knew how much I cared
u d see my love is true by the life we d share
Even if u changed your mind and said our love was thru
I d want 2 die continuously cry and still I d love u
I look up
as a tear rolls slowly
down my cheek
I think about better days
and wonder if I''ll feel that way again
you look at me
with those eyes I know so well
always serious, so deep and insightful
as though you''re always in control
But not today
not now
Now you look so scared
like for once you don''t have the answer
I gaze at you
looking deep into those hazel eyes
Hoping to understand
why you''ve said those things you did
I wonder for a moment
if this is all a dream
if I shall wake in the morning
and be relieved
you look at me
with a confusion I have never seen
slowly pull me towards you
and wipe the tears from my cheek
Suddenly in the distance, a shadow appears,
A tear rolls down my face and the image is clear.
Each Person Has A Different Path To The Friend’s Neighborhood

We exchanged reason for love.
Everybody is a buyer of a different good.

The mystic’s design and mark is distinct,
A different bazaar, a different shop.

It’s a different journey, a distinct world.
It’s different from this world and the other world.

Those on the land are unaware of those in the air.
A good from Ethiopia is different from one from Central Asia.

One who is in the sea is ignorant of some one who is in the desert.
Everybody is the king of his own city.
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
The Sweetest words ever said
by a lover to his love:
I am jealous of the people you ever hugged,
because for a moment they held my world!