Love
I mourn for the word "love"
It is lost
In deserts, under heat of the lust.
Once love meant something worth
Never came with looking at crowds
Destroyed everything if it came
To land on one's heart, mind.
Love was there with Hallaj
He lived in a harsh time
As we with Bush, ISIS, Taliban
All of them brutal.
They all share one sentence:
"With us or on highway."
Hallaj was on his way
To be hanged in open
After all the tortures
Like those of CIA.
His hand cut; with blood
He painted his pale face
"Don't want you to see me
With fear in lost-ness."
Love was there with Rumi
When he sat with mentor
Tabrizi.
Love was not sex-buddy
"Let's make it and bye-bye."
Love was there for giving
For parents, children
For true, deep lovers
For risking what you have
In times of trouble...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem