Lovesick Poem by Emdad Shah Emdad

by Emdad Shah

O dark blue maiden of the village green Let our blue eyes gaze where the hills are seen
In that deep blue my tethered soul is bound
My heart is stolen and my life uncrowned
My lonely spirit weeps in sorrow's flame
With what cool wave shall I quench this aching frame?

I offered up my heart on hope's bright pyre
And memory stirred the thirsty sky's desire
Like falling rain, with sweet and trembling sound
What grief within this parted breast is found!

O strange and crooked smile upon that face
I seem the last to haunt this lonely place
Thy swinging tresses in a knot are bound
Thy lovely visage smiling all around—

The dark of midnight paints her form so fair
Down to her feet flows softly braided hair
With eager eyes I watched to see her tread
And turned from all, by only her misled
O dark-blue maid, so wondrous to behold
Our wedded path was blessed ere tales were told
I only followed where her footsteps led
And drank her gaze before the door I stayed
There seemed a grave carved softly by her art
Yet she hath built her cottage in my heart.

The wild wood-blossoms on that quiet mound
Fell scatter'd down when heavy rains abound
In every grove the floods of longing rise
And love and parting waken in the skies.

O melody of life, thou wandering heart
Whose tune hath bid thee wander and depart?
Why dost thou weave this magic net of song?
My heart is bound when thou art gone along.

A voice is calling in the cloudy shade
My foolish spirit weeps and is afraid
The river waters pause upon their way
The lone moon walks where silver shadows play
In cuckoo's call she sings a name today.

Where shall I find my long-lost love again?
Though she is gone, I find her in my pain
Upon the floods of memory now I cast Her name, adrift into the shoreless vast.

O cloud-complexioned maid with eyes of kohl
Within those eyes deep mysteries softly roll
Yet hidden there, I watch unceasingly
While fallen leaves sweep round her ankle-free
The crimson lac recalls the absent dear
And blue-spread skies proclaim a grief sincere.

Doth the red lotus bloom from streams of gore?
Why comes no dawn, but shadows evermore?
O lonely spirit of the woods, do not now cease
For ours is now the vow that brings release.