It's fruitless in this bleakness to seek zest
Or cheerfulness to brighten up your gloom:
For what bird here will ever build its nest?
What fragrant rose in here will ever bloom?
...
My soul stood up today and said:
Your heart is full of sorrow.
I know, I said,
...
Each wrinkle in his ancient face
Bespeaks a monumental deed.
Serenely there with pride he sits,
No longer longing to succeed:
...
For things of beauty
constantly am I searching,
despite the bleakness.
...
What is a haiku?
The essence of a moment
Concisely conceived.
...
You're mine and I'm yours,
Said my Dad on his deathbed,
Looking at my Mom.
_____________________
...
If you wish to reach
The realm of eternal bliss,
Purify your heart.
...
Not all your wishes
Will come true, so be not sad
And keep on wishing!
...
A bright pink blossom
In a dark muddy puddle:
Eye-catching beauty!
...
Winter has arrived,
The flowers are departing,
Spring will soon return.
...
Looking at these birds,
Flying freely by the sea,
Sets my spirit free.
...
When in his sable garb vile Gloom attacks,
Repel him with the charm of Poetry.
...
I owe you nothing,
So please stop bothering me.
Have a peaceful day.
...
With pretty daisies
The lush green grass is adorned:
With delight I gaze.
...
Warm was that frozen lake across which we
With blissful fervour glided flowingly.
...
No room for gloom
When flowers bloom.
We can be glad
When we are sad.
...
You look so pretty
In your pinkish red outfit,
Sweet tender tulip.
...
For things of beauty Constantly am I searching, Despite the bleakness.)
Bleakness
It's fruitless in this bleakness to seek zest
Or cheerfulness to brighten up your gloom:
For what bird here will ever build its nest?
What fragrant rose in here will ever bloom?
In here where scum keeps generating scum,
Where life has lost its rainbow-coloured ray,
What vitalizing hope will ever come?
What sweet romantic dream will ever stay?
In here, in this disheartening malaise,
Where shallow fraud assumes the garb of wit
And foxiness pursues you with its gaze,
What can you do save in dull sorrow sit?
So leave behind this sty replete with crooks
And seek the sublime blissfulness of books.
_____________________
Written 08 September 1999
Copyright © Saleh Badrah