Perhaps on a cold, yellow autumn day I put forth buds
and spread my palm like a beggar asking for a golden coin. Like a man going off to war who takes death upon his neck,
Poetry: Love
Poems by Akrom Malik, newest first. Pick one for your mood.
Wherever you may walk, the sea will come,
The face of the earth is wrapped in water whole. Love always comes as twin to toil and pain,
Remembering you, I swallowed blood, alas,
Spitting blood, I passed through days of gloom. My heart in torment turned as black as pitch,
When someone said, “I love you,”
She believed it as a child. And no wonder she saw herself,
I've heard your heart grows troubled when I come,
That you don't like to see my face at all. That at the feasts of others you are cheerful,
There's not a day I don't remember you,
There's not a night I don't think of you. No moment passes without remembering you,
At times you miss me terribly,
At times you cannot forgive me at all. Rest assured: for a lifetime
If you love someone, be warned, O lover,
Closeness beyond measure will tear you apart. If you open your heart and place it in their hands,
In matters of love I had no will of my own —
I could not keep my heart’s love locked away. I was forever drunk on the wine of love,
Would I ever want you to grieve?
Do I need the pains of your heart? Would I press you to a task beyond your strength?!
Do you love openly, do you love in secret,
Do you burn with jealousy, do you deny your love; Do you come with avowal, do you rush past with torment,
Every moment that passes without you is a hardship to pass,
On a night without you, the breaking of dawn is a hardship. Akrom MALIK
TO LOVERS
If you love, consent to burn, and love, Consent to renounce yourself, and love.
If someone tells me that you are bad,
I will know that he himself is bad, my love. If someone brings ill news about you,
Each moment that goes by without you is so hard to bear,
At night, without you, the breaking of the dawn is hard to bear. Each minute long as an hour, the hours long as days,
Be drunk! Be drunk on the wine of love and passion,
Do not fear the dread-filled eyes of death at all. Be the last fiery breath upon a martyr’s lips,
There was a hot-tempered youth, his heart aflame,
He was filled with love, and he sought love. At times on journeys, at times secluded at home,
What can I do if suddenly I lose my senses,
What can I do if at times I turn into a child. Unable for a moment to be aware of myself,
Know now, O beloved, I will not burn in your fire,
If they tell me, “Burn in the fire,” I will refuse, I will not agree. Even if you remember me each day, I will not write you letters,
As long as you do not roam the desert of love,
As long as you do not feel the pain of parting, As long as you do not grow weary of this world,
If you do not burn, living is pointless, meaningless,
To walk about with a dried-up corpse — oh, what sorrow. Death is the continuation of this life, but
Sometimes I do not want to love you,
Because others love you too. So be it, let my love stay hidden in my heart,
Until you climb a lofty mountain, you cannot know
The breadth of this world and its majesty. Until you cross the Sirat bridge, you cannot laugh,
Do you know anything of the shape of love?
What color is it? What is its form? The one who loves dies a thousand times each moment,