Yield not the soul to pang of Love, for Love’s the soul’s fierce glow;
That Love’s the torment of the soul doth all the wide world know.
Seek not for gain from fancy wild of pang of Love at all;
For all that comes from fancy wild of Love’s pang is grief’s throe.
Each curving eyebrow is a blood-stained saber thee to slay;
Each dusky curl, a deadly venomed snake to work thee woe.
Lovely, indeed, the forms of moon-like maidens are to see—-
Lovely to see, but ah! the end doth bitter anguish show.
From this I know full well that torment dire in love abides,
That all who lovers are, engrossed with sighs, rove to and fro.
Call not to mind the pupils of the black-eyed damsels bright,
With thought, “I’m man”; be not deceived, ’tis blood they drink, I trow.
E’en if Fuzuli should declare, “In fair ones there is troth,”
Be not deceived—- “A poet’s words are falsehoods all men know.”
(Muhammed Suleyman Oglu Fuzuli)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Mind Poems, Soul Poems, Fairness Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Literature Poems, Poets PoemsBased on Keywords: falsehoods, moon-like, saber, eyebrow, fuzuli