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DAWN AT THE TAVERN
Another night has gone
Just the way it came
Another false dawn in the air
And another dirge of despair...
This misfit pilgrim has to carry on
Living and dying, both at the same time
With drinks, music, cigars and rhyme.
The people wake up to greet the new day
While with my sad heart in the tavern I stay
Unable to forget, unwilling to remember
Bittersweet days of snowy December.
My friends at the tavern -- all have gone
Like the night, leaving me with the Saqi*
I too must get up and bid my adieu
As the fair and kind Saqi will not approve
Of odd broken hearts fleeing daylight
Or minds seeking peace, except at night.
Robbed of the right to earn a living
I want to be what I am born to be -- something
Taking a pen I put thoughts on paper
To ease the aches of A heart that is dying.
I look at the Saqi whose eyes are sleepy
And smile like a man who enjoyed being there.
But from eyes so alluring the Saqi conveys
That the time has come to close the good place.
The place where men like me often visit
To drown their sorrows and get up feeling fit.
It is time to rise and go and my feet start moving
To cope with another stretch of a lonely living.
