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PASSION'S SUBLIMATION
For how long have I been in this dreary world of discord,
If the nights of parting from my beloved are also counted!
Somehow the cup of love never reached my thirsty self
Maybe the wine giver mixed some potion in the drink?
It is true that the old taverns aren't frequented like before,
Yet some dark cloudy nights compel me to break my reason.
The travesties of fate are an unsolvable riddle,
Death would have been most welcome if it had been one decision.
The man from the mosque cries: "Come, come to good work",
The saqi within the heart says: "Hearken, I am still here!"
A star-reading woman likes to give me names,
While bidding "adieu" to the goblets we shared.
The galactic stretch of stars unveils itself to me,
While she, like many others, thinks I am crazy.
When the sun rises slowly I hide from everything,
And when it sets I seek out my nightmares' meaning.
At the stroke of midnight this being called ME longs,
For the joys and good moments behind the silent gongs.
What of Don Quixote and what of the one he pined for,
Fate's Writer often likes to turn fact into fiction!
Imagination functions like a drunkard on the loose,
As truth and reality meet to merge as fascination.
All with my own self I keep gazing at the expanse,
Defined as the sky while seeking my lost dimension.
I am sure I have wandered here from somewhere better,
And whatever I share here are my subconscious visions.
It is futile to endeavour and ponder on Pythagoras,
What appears to us here is a preordained theorem.
That's why I often dabble with wine, golden and sparkling,
And seemingly knock on the door of a hidden heaven.
And all that is revealed in response to my knocking,
Is not the divine truth but my passion's sublimation.
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on August 25, 2011).
