The Secrets of Love, A Poem by Dr Muhammad Hussain Al-Yaseen

Who is rending me apart?
You?´-or-your will to depart?
I cannot be sure of the answer yet.
Sure, though, I have to dice,
Sure, though, I am the sacrifice!

Between my fingers I hold the grape,
Crushing is my doom, ripping it in rape!
Sure, though, my soul is the sacrifice!

Mine is spring in dreadful ordeal
That hears in roses tears the appeal:
To see how the winds can dance!
Sure, though, my soul is the sacrifice!

My youth is spent in strife,
I cannot see in God s paradise
But fires, feeding me death-in-life!
It s sure my soul is the sacrifice.

Your eyes in mine can behold
All the telling marks of adoration.
No secret has remained untold
To reveal the agony of infatuation!
Sure, though, my soul is the sacrifice!

I ve wandered over all places,
No town has offered me a home-;-
Till I found in your charming eyes
The venues where I can roam.
Sure, though, my soul is the sacrifice!

Never shut the doors-;- Oh, No!
Not on my staring face, so a-dreary.
Beware of the horrors of the query:
How ? and where shall I go?
Sure, though, my soul is the sacrifice!

Oh what a wretched lot mine is, as ice.
Is it true that you are in my arms,
Yet my breast beats empty in qualms?
Sure, though, my soul is the sacrifice!

The misery is that I am the slain,
Whose cut redeems his slayer in no strain
Unto forgiveness, feeling sweetest pain.
Sure though I will always be the sacrifice!

Translation: Hussain Alwan Hussain
Baghdad, May 26th, 2013

Rate the article
Bad	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	10	Very good
Result : 100%							Participated in the vote : 1