How come I don''t

How come I don''t
How come I don''t know my own pain?
I''m the doctor and the remedy myself.

I wandered around the universe.
For the friend''s sake I have broken my heart.

Oh poor me! I didn''t know
I ''m the beloved and the lover myself.

Mazun, I made myself degraded.
I chose to be in love.

I gave my sole to the beloved.
Soul myself, devotee myself.
  

Jun, 18 2010     352 chars (3 sms)     3424 views       English Poetry

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It was an ordinary day
I was caught in my routine when
Suddenly something made me think of you.

I paused for a moment n smiled.

It was no longer an ordinary day....;->
n0 l0ve,
n0 life,
n0 pain,
n0 Peace,
n0 happeyness,
n0 Sadness,
n0 Hate,
n0 m0re can happen t0 0ur fate,
Emoti0nless s0me pe0ple stand t0day

n0 l0ve,
n0 life,
n0 pain,
n0 Peace,
n0 happeyness,
n0 Sadness,
n0 Hate,
n0 m0re can s0me 0ne be heald in arms and feel the l0ve,
and relese the hate,
n0 m0re tears t0 cry,
All is t0 live f0r,
Is the day we die,

n0 l0ve,
n0 life,
n0 pain,
n0 Peace,
n0 happeyness,
n0 Sadness,
n0 Hate,
n0 m0re but its all Fake
Em0ti0nless is h0w we all stand t0day.
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.
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.
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.
As I look outside I see the breeze
Caress the leaves from the trees
And carry them to all around
Gently laid upon the ground
I see the birds so high above
Their songs sing of our special love
And laid upon their soft sweet wing
Your love to me they gently bring
And as they start their graceful descent
Delivering a message that’s heaven sent
One thing I know and will hold so dear
When I see them fly I will feel you near
The ship moves afar as the sun sets to sleep
In my blindness, do I see nature taunt?
My legs in the sand, are down pretty deep
Will I conquer the calm blue sea, and everything beyond ?
The past time has
departed, so that it no
longer is; and the future is
not in existence,
in that it has not yet
arrived. And even the
present is not... in that it
does not abide. For see-
ing that the present does
not stand fast, and does
not abide even for an in-
stant, how can it be said
to be present, when it
cannot stand fast for one
moment?
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.
My love for you is simple, deep, and strong.
I feel it flowing towards you from my heart,
A tide of unsophisticated song,
Sung with much desire and little art.
I cannot tell my love, but it will show
In ways that even I cannot foresee;
A love as full as mine must overflow
Into everything that makes me, me.
Just as the sun must shine to be the sun
And trees burst forth in blossom every year,
So I must love in ways that everyone
Can see or sense or reason out or hear.
Still, I''ll tell you of my love in this:
For fear, despite all, you might my love miss.
I stand at the edge straight as a board
Overwhelmed by my fears my desires ignored
I reach out my hands only to hold myself back
My mind racing sorting fiction from fact
My head lifts and eyes brighten when I hear you call
Still I remain motionless, I don''t wanna fall

I''m afraid, but what exactly am I afraid of?
My heart shutters at the thought of falling in love
Overcome by fear I remain completely still
My emotions can''t deepen if I refuse to feel
Once again my name escapes from your lips
I feel the gentle brush of your sweet fingertips
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.