I didn’t decide to

I didn’t decide to
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.
  

Jun, 18 2010     491 chars (4 sms)     3263 views       English Poetry

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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.
Give me death! I pray every day
Leave me not, to sigh, in every way
Seen I have, those beautiful days
Those little red flowers in an awesome place.

Why these windows, in front of me?
And all the beauty outside, and free
Ran, I have upon the soft wet ground
I walk far no more, just safe and sound

My beloved ones, have all gone away
Laughter, I yearn to hear, to be merry and gay
Tears, I have in my heart and dreams too
Like my youth, won`t the pills vanish too?

Years and years, have I spent in glee?
To sit here and look at the old worn tree
Searched I have, for a leaf of hope,
A lover from the skies, with whom to elope
Slowly you become a memory
and start to fade away
as each week that passes by
I''m starting to feel OK

i cared about you dearly
i treated you like gold
i waited for the same
but was left out in the cold

you were mean and selfish
you treated me like dirt
you dug deeper and deeper
just to get me hurt

after everything you did
your wish didn''t come true
you will always remain a memory
but never forget i actually loved you!
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.
in your eyes, i dont see any love anymore
you are the one i need
and am not the one you are looking for
i begged you before i leave
keep me close, i am so naive
......you pushed me out
and you closed the door
Your feeling is depressed... You always seem to be depressed and cry easily. You
are a bit (ok, more than a bit) over
emotional and are too sensitive. You rarely
smile, and when you do, it''s very weak...
your eyes always seem to be misty and though
others have tried to console you of your
sorrow in the past, no one can seem to get
through to you that there''s more to life than
being sad. No no one seems to hang around you
anymore which makes you feel worse, and you
feel as you''re loved by no one except maybe
your family. People might see you as the
"girl who doesn''t talk to anyone",
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.
The past
is an archive of events
even when I die,
you turn back your neck
and I''ll eternally
have what came
before

and there''s somewhere
somewhere a man
singing softly
unique and parched
it''s all the pain
holding her
in my arms

Vessel to the words
he can''t see before
before the chords

Maddened by a red sun
skeptical
going on through this
and behind
a wagging tail
the sands continue
to sift

A little past
the way we were
And then, by that
will always be...!!!
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?
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.
if one day you feel like crying...
call me.
i dont promise you that i will male you laugh,
but i can cry with you.

if one day you want to run away....
dont be a afraid to call me.
i dont promise to ask you to stay,
but i can run with you..

if one day you dont want to listen to anybody,
call me...

i promise to be very quiet.

but
if one day you call me
and there is no answer....

come fast to see me,
perhaps i need you.
Life taught me many things,
Some sweet moments some bitter ones,
Some I remember some I forgot,
But what remained always was our precious friendship.