English Poems

[IamDZJ]

But in the Wine-presses the human grapes sing not nor dance:
They howl and writhe in shoals of torment, in fierce flames consuming,
In chains of iron and in dungeons circled with ceaseless fires,
In pits and dens and shades of death, in shapes of torment and woe:
The plates and screws and racks and saws and cords and fires and cisterns
The cruel joys of Luvah's Daughters, lacerating with knives
And whips their victims, and the deadly sport of Luvah's Sons.

They dance around the dying and they drink the howl and groan,
They catch the shrieks in cups of gold, they hand them to one another:
These are the sports of love, and these the sweet delights of amorous play,
Tears of the grape, the death sweat of the cluster, the last sigh
Of the mild youth who listens to the luring songs of Luvah.----

[IamDZJ]

I love thee, as I love the calm
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
Of early jes'mine flow'rs.

I love thee, as I love the last
Rich smile of fading day,
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,
On rapture pass'd away.

I love thee as I love the tone
Of some soft-breathing flute
Whose soul is wak'd for me alone,
When all beside is mute.

I love thee as I love the first
Young violet of the spring;
Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd,
To scented blossoming.

I love thee, as I love the full,
Clear gushings of the song,
Which lonely--sad--and beautiful--
At night-fall floats along,

Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet
The hours of rest and dew;
When melody and moonlight meet
To blend their charm, and hue.

I love thee, as the glad bird loves
The freedom of its wing,
On which delightedly it moves
In wildest wandering.

I love thee as I love the swell,
And hush, of some low strain,
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,
The past to life again.

Such is the feeling which from thee
Nought earthly can allure:
'Tis ever link'd to all I see
Of gifted--high--and pure!

[IamDZJ]

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence

[Al Hanif]

Idiot Girl


Sudden shudder, shoulders shaking, under a deep fire stare.

Take a breath idiot girl, you're almost there.

Pushing forward through anger, and hurt.

Just walk a little further, soon you'll be nothing but ash and dirt.

One more time...The idiot girl loses her mind, everything she exhales is nothing but sin.

Keeping up appearences is more than it seems.

Her smile was so pretty, to her just fake and mean.

Nothing ever so special, she had not a single care,

just ran away with her mind,

sometimes got lost in her own stare.

One more time...The idiot girl loses her mind, everything she exhales is nothing but sin.

Creates her own destruction,

always drowning in such sweet despair.

Burried her thoughts, but they never died there.

Silently breaking, her eyes speaking volumes of pain.

Its seems God has washed his hands of her with disdain.

One more time...The idiot girl loses her mind, everything she exhales is nothing but sin.

Bleak light is shinning, showing cracks, and fractures along the skull.

Her hands so twisted, it looks as if she lost the will to go on.

Sadness clutching, breathing everything in.

Chin kept up, as she stumbled with a belly full of hurt.

Idiot girl...shes the living sin...

[IamDZJ]

Tell me, dear beauty of the dusk,
When purple ribbons bind the hill,
Do dreams your secret wish fulfill,
Do prayers, like kernels from the husk
Come from your lips? Tell me if when
The mountains loom at night, giant shades
Of softer shadow, swift like blades
Of grass seeds come to flower. Then
Tell me if the night winds bend
Them towards me, if the Shenandoah
As it ripples past your shore,
Catches the soul of what you send.

[Hakim Khan Urgonai]

III. THE FIRE SERMON

The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.175
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights.
The nymphs are departed.
And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors;180
Departed, have left no addresses...

From The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot.

[pakhtana2012]

I have know the harshest of days
I have dried up oceans of tears
i have dragged myself to freedom
Crying for the right moment
Screaming for liberty
Yet some people think i know nothing
What do they know
i have dealt with the hardest parts of life
Externally I laugh but internally I am burning
i have dealt with more than my plate can hold
but people still think I know nothing
but do they know what i have been put through

[Afghanistan2010]

Over the wintry forest,
winds howl in rage
with no leaves to blow.

by Soseki (1275-1351)

[IamDZJ]

A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.

[Nazar]

Sta pa hijr ki shom za da hijr night
Kala wawrrama pa left kala pa right

Aw zama rang ba wali yellow yellow na wi
Chi da yar mi anangi di red and white
Aw ka ta har sa harsa wi za wam right
Intizar mi darta wako tamam night

Everyday di pa kotsa bandi teregam
Da niqab na di khkara ka da makh white

No hagha day pa ma akhtar wi zama yara
Chi zama pa stargo walagi sta bright

Aw yawa wraz mi pa didan bandi ka full
Da Nazar zarrgai da ghama kawi flight

[Manzareh]

Roses are red
I sleep in a cave
This poem makes no sense
Microwave

[IamDZJ]

A poet..he hath put his heart to school,
Nor dares to move unpropped upon the staff
Which art hath lodged within his hand--must laugh
By precept only, and shed tears by rule.
Thy Art be Nature; the live current quaff,
And let the groveller sip his stagnant pool,
In fear that else, when Critics grave and cool
Have killed him, Scorn should write his epitaph.
How does the Meadow-flower its bloom unfold?
Because the lovely little flower is free
Down to its root, and, in that freedom, bold;
And so the grandeur of the Forest-tree
Comes not by casting in a formal mould,
But from its own divine vitality.

[IamDZJ]

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleas'd with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

[Pisho]

LoVe

I have loved Thee with two loves -
a selfish love and a love that is worthy of Thee.
As for the love which is selfish,
Therein I occupy myself with Thee,
to the exclusion of all others.
But in the love which is worthy of Thee,
Thou dost raise the veil that I may see Thee.
Yet is the praise not mine in this or that,
But the praise is to Thee in both that and this.

rabia al basri****

[Pisho]

A stone I died and rose again a plant;
A plant I died and rose an animal;
I died an animal and was born a man.
Why should I fear? What have I lost by death?



Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi