Kismat
Over yonder pastoral realms, with heaving mounds of green
Birds of variegated colors shine, where.streamlets gleam with opal sheen.
In circles round, fleetfooted Zephyr sweeps the laurelled ground
With footfalls that loom, a sweet scented voluptuous sound
Which gently strike the fabric fetters of sleep
Till darling buds of May, wrapped in emerald blankets awake from the deep.
Across the celestial way, with measured pace gaily sways the cyclopic eye
Unsullied by fruitless pride, sprightly illuminates the native sky
Swimming in time’s boundless course
With immobile lids witnessed mighty nations fold.
Destined to.charm the stretched bed of spring, with a divine touch of gold
Sets the novel flower of youth on saffron gloss.
The tyrant star of desire that burns with redoubled light
Over vernal lengthened fields, rules with undisputable right.
Every zealous soul clad in trailing garments of prime
Ambitious and vigorous, would explore heights sublime
But the hollowed glories which lofty praise indite
Often makes the beautiful cluster of lilies white
Fertile with ample pride, like the silver lamp of night.
Beneath the inviolable privacy of a silent gleaming eloquent night
Vestals approach the fountain of love, quaffing the sweet nectared flood
With the exuberant thirst of a summer's newly-opened bud.
Lips conjoin'd in pleasant faction of one impassioned lengthened kiss
Tremble and quake, shocked by mighty ebullient waves of bliss.
Ah! Covetous fate, the interceptor of mortal delight
Graced with a fierce broad blade that oppose
Every dainty beauteous form that glows.
With a rugged egde cleaves apart
The warmth from the breath and loving heart from heart.
Fixed amid' wild solitude like a bird forlorn
That sings plaintive notes, with the breast against a thorn.
The pedantic hand of pain, taught these dew-lit eyes
How to gaze through the thick vizards, companions wear fortifying lean disguise
How to mark with caution the polluted nest of gracious friends
And non profiting organizations, which make the gold their end.
Uprooted from grasp of love, either sides round beset with woes
My melancholic feet divided from placid resting
Bend wherever the piloting tempest stone-blindly blows
Having mastered the grand art of forgetting
Old things that pollute the sparks of rising dawn
Never wastes my soul, precious tears in pleasures gone.
Oh! Swiftly flies the winged glance of youth
In wanton pride, the beauty of soul is slain, in sad-truth
When the vernal brow of faith is delved with brutal age
Fervid fancies perish within despair's black-faced cage.
Bitter coloquintida or ozier nectared sweet, welcome with applauding breath
Whatever the erratic wheel of fortune brings
For neither kingly might, intercepts the fixed course of earth
Nor cunning flying fingers, dare-drift fate’s ordained wings.
Averse from gore, by native mercy, advance along the beaten plain
Regardless of boisterous summer’s furnaced breath
Which ruins the sweet scented beauteous wreath
With even spite does sour weeds attempt.
Whether sullen clouds darting silver shafts of rain
Which spoiling golden crowns would scarce brass coronets exempt.
My hollowed breast, heedless of care
Shall the destined malignant flood bear.
Let the multitudinous throng of antagonist assail
With godlike rage and Roman resentment combined
Make the festal broad ends in blood, and songs in wail.
Like helots accustomed to groan, light in darkest afflictions find
My vulnerable soul resolved to endure
Shall unjust frequent pangs inure.
Let idle slandering serpents with forked tongues loose
Spread havoc like restless billows tossed to induce.
The heaped affronts haughty rascals diffuse
Offend the guiltless ear, like the rattling peals of thunder
Never strike the adamant heart asunder.
The self-kindled flame broiling their compact rage
Shall melt envy-waxed hearts to love, and thronged fury assuage.
Copyright ©
Ibrahim Jingo Jafari
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