I may not be an attractive-lad, may be!
But I have a beautiful heart.
O Houri of Jannat-ul-Firdous!
Marry me today,
Now is the session of marriages going on.
For how long,
O’ Caffeine of my morns,
For how long,
O’ Cocaine of my evens,
Shall I’ve to hold in abeyance?
Or, to dig my emotions deep
Into the trenches of my heart?
Sings the woeful ballads
Of Shakespeare daily.
Fervid in thermal waves and ruts,
Like an ironsmith’s smithy,
Snoring in irrepressible flames.
So does t’is charred poet of love
Staunch hapless and poor to guard self
Against the bale-suspiration of heart;
Brazen like the cannon’s mouth,
Void of mercy and clemency,
So does my heart; unfiltered
Against the syndrome,
Is mercilessly in love with you.Furls its flag very oft like the
Rolling stone of Sisyphus.
Come, my Darling! Come,
Trot onto the lancet carpet of my heart softly,
Like the tip-toe of a bride, in a new house,
And save me today from t’is infernal-torture
Of my hell-heart; shrieking and moaning,
Scudding and booming, e’er,
As Alighieri’s Inferno.
Hey Lady! Should a lad of charisma;
The specimen of aesthetic theory on globe,
Sing the ballads of charity and sulphur
In the age, capable to touch
The topless-towers of zeitgeist.
Hey! Should he be damned like t’is?
Like an Autumn’s deigning dash
The leaves into the dust
By the winter solstice.
No, Juliet, no!
The labour would be intolerable,
To shoulder, no not anymore,
Any separation, any labour borne.
O, the refrain of my Ghazal!
O, the kernel of my Qasida!
It would be a crime, on the part of deities
To quarter the spirits of one insane-lover
Into shreds and pieces.
’S in love with her precocious-mistress
From the calendars of hot days and cold nights,
Likewise, an ingenious fabric woven by the Bard
Circa `95, in an ancient city of Verona; Italy.