Phoenix

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

 
Surrender
Your remembrance
Is a sign for my nocturnal visions
And your presence
Is a pretext for survival.

With the magic of your kindnesses
There is no chance for fleeing
As you are a proof as solid as the sun
In the pillage of repeated darkness.

What I see is not merely tenderness and love
It is a grandeur which I dare not avoid.
Your bewitchment is not the only aspect of my need for you
Because I am still bewildered by this immense generosity.

The magical images of imagination
Fade away in the glorious scintillation of your appearance;
O verse of explicitness and comprehensiveness!
O mirror of the awe of miracles!
Before you one must just surrender!

Dariush
27 November 2002
London



15:14|

Sunday, November 24, 2002

 
In the silence of vocals
My tensions
Do not disturb the noisy congregation of my words
To fly my roaming vocabularies
In a rhyming dance to your voice.

The silence which has befallen me
Is not a swamp to have the foul smell of quietness;
This avoidance
Is pregnant of another storm which you know quite well.

And you know that if I do not write or sing
My breaths
Shall blame the cold adjacent air
And my painful waiting looks
Will melt the rigidity of stones devoid of wishes.

I light my candles
In the remembrance of you.
I remove the dust from mirrors on the way of lightning
For the appearance of your clean eyes.

Your soft and pure voice
On the threshold of joining your loving eyes
Is the green tiding of blossoming in the eyes of the sun . . .

Dariush
Wednesday, November 13, 2002
16:12

14:01|

 
Circle
Lyrics are impotent to contain
The blessing you generously bestowed
On the poverty of my soul and heart:
The sea cannot be fettered in a cup!

The more I reflect I realize that
Since I have found you
Each step has been a test
And every status has been a pitfall;
It is as if the archer of fate is lying in ambush
To place the arrow of termination in the bow
If I turn reluctant or wavering in the trap of your eyes.
And I have just started
- and we have just started.

Now when I look deeper
I find that the tenderness of your love
And the strokes of your hands
Burn every reluctance;
I can neither avoid nor evade you.

You are the point of beginning and end
To the circle of my new existence
And around me
You are the ring of protection!


Dariush
15 November 2002
01:56
London



14:01|

Sunday, October 13, 2002

 
Scale

I brought forward a scale
And weighed the outcome of any fear and hope
And any passion and wish with the criterion of that ancient thirst.


When the dark wall of destiny
And the trespassing hand of fate
Were in the job of accusing wishes of imminent failure
- with this worthless pretext that: “You must aspire after dignity and flying high”-
An ambassador of light
Drew a sword of fulfillment from the sheath of revelation and said:
Here is the response and the blessing!

I told myself: “This is no deal
Because neither do I have that asset to start a business
Nor are you such a greedy trader in your traits!”

I am still asking myself: “Which shameless liar
Has accused the source of all generosity of this statement that
‘For attaining eternity one must bear the pain of being crushed’
And then the injured hero of the cult of pain and the religion of peace
Would have to drink the poison of anguish and be refused the height of eternity?

What I know is that, last night, between me and Her
There was a conversation about a pact for friendship and union
That there ought to be a candle in this darkness.
To encourage this deterred being
They said: “We would provide you with an authorization
Although we stripped you of all your feathers and broke your wings such that you may not fly towards these other true and false directions.”

Now here I am left with the faith of Ayyoub, Ismail and Idris;
We have passed the threshold of patience like Ayyoub;
Many times we came forward joyfully to be sacrificed at your court like Ismail;
Is it not time yet for us to ascend the roof of heavens and rest on our throne of teaching?

Dariush
Monday, 7 October 2002
London, Victoria
13:40|

 
Felicitation
Is this the soul of the universe
Which is pumping in my veins
With each pulse of this crazy heart in its wandering beatings
The blood of joy and the source of bliss in my cheeks?


Is this me who is Her embodiment
Or is it Her who has become a mirror to my blossoms?

Whatever it may be, there is one truth
Which is holding fast the bridle of this heaven treading horse:
Those very quick moments of your voice caressing me
Lifted from my being the exhaustion of passing through repeated darkness.

Do not restrain your voice
- as your kindling being-
from my troubled existence!


Dariush
Saturday, 5 October 2002
London, Warren Street



13:39|

Wednesday, September 04, 2002

 
You started your world by sacrificing me
And your felicitations floursihed with my misfortunes!
17:25|

 
Slant
In the slant of this descent
There is not even one single friendly voice
Among the rattling of all these chins
To be a medicine to my old wounds.

This was not my descent,
It was my downfall.
And what is beating on the road,
In blood,
Is my torn heart:
A reminiscent of the inauguration of this world!

Dariush.
4 September 2002, 12:12
South Kensington
London


17:24|

Tuesday, September 03, 2002

 
Pillage
There comes the ruthless invasion of gloom
And here I am desperate and helpless
Under this rubble
Panting and waiting for a miracle
From the side of your voice!

Whatever I see is darkness
Colors look like lead
The horizon is dead
The sky conceals its smiles from my sight
And the sun watches my struggle mournfully.

Again you are not here,
You are not here to witness all this!


Dariush.

London
3 September 2002
15:31


15:39|

 
I need something
I need something desparately right now.
I don't know what
These walls are eating me
My head is blowing up
It is so dark all around
The earth is so uneven
I feel I may fall down any moment
Does anybody know what is going on?

What is this? An earthquake? A volcano? A flood?
An atomic explosion? The end of the world?
What? I am so anxious!

Where are you? I have been looking for you all morning!
I cannot find you. I have not found you yet.
14:53|

Monday, September 02, 2002

 
A variation of my poem by Dr. Raficq Abdulla



Ode from the Persian
This dry ode powders the absence of your fire,
It sounds a song to read the mote of your mystery
As subtle as the felicity of your glance that ties me,
It mirrors the soul dressed by your eyes with mine;

Yet I am lost in translation of you in this plain
Of salt and stones where nothing sounds neither
Song nor psalm nor holy verses that retain our faith.

My ode calls out to you between the vine of silence
And our common greetings that wear out the day.

How are we to be born again without our mothers' wombs?

9/2/02 4:22:19

16:57|

 
Ode
I would wish an ode
As high as your forhead
To be the interpretation of the enigma of our meeting;
And a song as subtle as your eyes
Parallel to the mirror of your looks
To be an adequate exposition of eternity.


In this city of famine where there is no song and psalm
In between silence and salutation
I am treading!

I want a resurrection!

Dariush.
2 September 2002
London



16:56|

Saturday, August 24, 2002

 
This is the poem I had written for my own birthday:

In the Hope of Eternity

I would wish a birth
Deserving this life
A new day and a new secret
Such that like a baby
Not each year
But each moment, I may be born of myself.

On the banks of this twilight of the threshold of life
There ought to be a blazing torch
To burn down the dark curtains of egos;
There ought to be a drink
Whose intoxication would bring down the veil of any hypocrisy;
There ought to be a Goddess-like beloved
- As that mirror faced sweetheart said in that winter night -
To demolish and then rebuild this edifice.

I need another birth
Not so repetitious as this one which befalls you each year, without your wishing it
And you would commemorate it
Either with a childish zeal
Or in an inevitable formality;
Or that you would ignore it blankly and in coldness!

I need a re-birth with you
In a pair of arms as vast as this universe
Running away from this obscene city
-which is constantly violating the heavenly sacredness of hearts.

I need a timeless birth:
There ought to be boundlessness for me!


23 August, 16:22
London



16:57|