Ghazal 45

The Dream Bandit

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In this day & age a friend free of problems if
                                         In fact he is
This pure clear wine and this book of poems
                                         In fact it is

Tread lightly upon the narrow passage of well-being
Grab hard at the goblet that irreproducible this life
                                         In fact it is

No ennui for me in the world due to lack of actions
The ennui of the scholars the action-less knowledge
                                         In fact it is

The eye of the mind in this turbulent passage sees
The world and its affairs unstable and unreliable [1]
                                         In fact it is

Hold the tresses of the moon-faced and tell not any tales [2]
Since the fortune or misfortune the effect of the stars
                                         In fact it is

Much hope my heart had in reaching the face of Yours
But death, the “dream bandit” upon the passage of life
                                         In fact it is

For sure no one shall ever find him sober again
Since Hafez drunken from the goblet of Azal (Sempiternity)
                                         In fact he is


Through the eyes of the childless mother IT beholds the motherless child and we are drunken by the negra-nectar of this Divine Love affair. No one can awaken the ever-thirsting drunkards of this most pure wine and nothing other than their hearts can contain the torrents of this tumultuous wine.

O Dervish! [1] Hearken unto the sable of their skin: You shall fail in any and all affairs that this life lures you into. You shall fail not due to the lack of efforts but you shall fail because you are sober. Thus do drink from the goblet offered to you by the svelte arms of the cupbearers—African childless mother and the motherless child.

Dervish! You were born in the dungeons of “yesterday and tomorrow” enchained by the trammels of soberness and your Self serving as the dutiful warden. Gulp down from their trembling black hands the intoxicating wine that shall dissolve the chains thus launch the seaworthy whale of your soul and fear not the vexed waves of the Love’s ocean.

Tell me no tales of God & scriptures or “holier than thou” tales of your personal greatness [2], just fool with these tresses of the nascent pleasures of life and leave the rest to cosmos to be as it may! Alas! The beautiful crescent faces of this lunar month of yours shall reach the last of its day and the same moon shall rise again, more beautiful, though this time seducing someone else.

Background: Africa, Zimbabwe. September 1999 - Liza Mkwananza (23) is HIV positive and lives at Masambanzou a centre for people living with HIV and AIDS - she has become friends with Walter Mutsamba (6) who's mother died in 1997 and father died in January 1998 both of AIDS ©Karin Retief/Trace Images/The Image Works.

© 2004-2002,  Dara O. Shayda