O Bearer bring the

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
  

Jun, 18 2010     761 chars (5 sms)     3173 views       English Poetry

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Pain ! Pain ! Pain


so positive is your poetry !


Meena

Doesn''t really matter
My heart wont shatter
What if I am alone

------Clap !
At every sunset, I cry and plead
Slow and just living, and yet I bleed
With angst, do I cry, take me home.
Please take me away from this old age home.
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.
A life of dreams to yet unfold.
Each passing day as we grow old.
We are but one, as we learn to walk Still,
very little as we start to talk.
By the age of five, to school we go,
To learn much more that we don''t know.
As we hit ten, our world''s the books;
Just turn the page and take a look...
Every normal person has 72 heart beats, but for myself its 73. the extra 1 is ur smile. So don’t stop ur smile, it will affect my heart.. Keep Smiling
SmiLiNg Is NoT My ReAliTy,
ThIs Is HoW I PrEtEnD To Be,
By NiGhT I CrY MySeLf To SlEeP,
WiD My GoD FrOwNiNg At Me,
DrOwnInG In A FlOoD Of TeArS,
BuT TeArs Are My DeStInY,
My ViSiOn A BlUr As I FuLLFiLL,
AnD ThIs Is HoW I MeAnT To Be,
My LiFe UnWoRthY,
My SelF To KiLL,
ExIsTeNcE A ToRtUrE I MuSt EnDurE,
As U RegArDeD SuiCiDe As SiN,
I M NoT AgAiNsT U My HeArt Is PuRe,
FaTe Is MoCkInG WiTh An EviL GriN,
SuRrOuNDeD In A BlAcK NeSs So DeEp,
I WaLk,I SeE But SuRvIvE No MoRe,
I M DeAd InSiDe,
In DaRkNeSs WeEp,
YoU KnoW I LoVe U,
LIkE EvEr BeFoRe,
FoRgIvE Me As In My GrAvE I LaY,
FrEe Me oF ThiS PaIn AnD LeT Me DiE,
I JuSt CaNT BaRe It AnY MoRe:''(
Why

Oh God, one cannot argue with you, but,
why did you throw us in the fire of love?

You formed us with your power, and water and clay.
Why did you create the moon-like beauties?

You made eyebrows into pens, and locks of hair into lassos.
You made sugar-water limpid from sweet lips.

If you wanted me not to become afflicted and degraded,
why did you create lovesick girls?

If you wanted submission and prayers,
you would not have given beauties coquetry and coyness.

If false love is a sin,
why did you make drunkard eyes drunk?
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.
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
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.
When I fall in love,
I want you
to be happy
always, ever

and feel like
the happiest
person
of them
all . . .

Because that''s

what I will feel,

when I fall in love,

with you.
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.