The Lover's Blues
by Vahid Dejwakh
Love, why dost thou thus tempt me?
Immeasurably safe within the ramparts of solitude,
This self-imposed mind of quietude
Shuns amorous sophistry:
Leave, and gather thyself a better army!
You who dream of being conquered,
Of trading sacred certainty for passionate servitude,
Understand the magnitude
Of having your life thus altered:
Your resignation shall not be well augured
I too, once left this sheltered view,
Adventured far outside the realm curfewed,
To seek Her right embrace and all that ensued–
But oh, what on earth did I pursue:
I returned less with glory, more with rue!
My friends have told me later
How lost I seemed when after Her I cooed,
But thinking it too rude to intrude,
They did not play the abater:
I tore my own illusions asunder
Raise the embankments, I said
No one beyond these lines shall obtrude
Whoever in deed crosses this fortitude
Shall be akin to a godhead:
Love, be either grand or dead!