A gentle breeze its fragrance over burning deserts blow
Or, all at once be soothed somehow the sick soul’s distress.
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The wall has grown all black, upto the circling roof.
My night begins to converse with its loneliness;My visitor I feel has come once again.Henna stains one palm, blood wets another;One eye poisons, the other cures.None leaves or enters my heart’s lodging;Loneliness leaves the flower of pain unwatered,Who is there to fill the cup of its wound with color?My visitor I feel has come once…
Do not strike the chord of sorrow tonight!
Who knows what happens tomorrow?Last night is lost; tomorrow’s frontier wiped out:Who knows if there will be another dawn?Life is nothing, it’s only tonight!Tonight we can be what the gods are!Do not strike the chord of sorrow, tonight!Do not repeat stories of sufferings now,Do not complain, let your fate play its role,Do not think of…
Be near me now,
At this hour when night comes down,When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comesWith the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets,When it comes with cries of lamentation,with laughter with songs;Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step.At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places,Have begun to hope…
This is the way that autumn came to the trees:
left their ebony bodies naked.It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves,scattered them over the ground.Anyone could trample them out of shapeundisturbed by a single moan of protest.The birds that herald dreamswere exiled from their song,each voice torn out of its throat.They dropped into the dusteven before the hunter strung his bow.Oh, God of May…
I am being accused of loving you, that is all
My heart is pleased at the words of the accusersO my dearest dear, they say your name, that is allFor what I am ridiculed, it is not a crimeMy heart’s useless playtime, a failed love, that is allI haven’t lost hope, but just a fight, that is allThe night of suffering lengthens, but just a…
If they snatch my ink and pen,
For I have dipped my fingersIn the blood of my heart.I should not complainEven if they seal my tongue,For every ring of my chainIs a tongue ready to speak.