Thousand Desires
Come, my love—oh, come, my soul pleads,
Grant me the medicine my heart needs.
Yet the cure did not arrive, nor soothe,
For my heart is a naive ghazal of youth.
Guilt—ah, love’s own guilt it seems,
A sorrow sung in shattered dreams.
Thousands of desires rise and wane,
Each one burning, each one pain.
It is the heart, not brick nor stone,
It trembles, breaks, yet beats alone.
Since I was born, this world has shown,
Not all is love—some madness grown.
No hope is sealed within a kiss,
No paradise in love’s abyss.
Let the ascetics praise their skies,
While I sing where the longing lies.
My words are difficult, tangled, torn,
A map that weeps, yet still is worn.
Color, mercy, fire—intoxication,
A prayer, a plea, a lost salvation.
Have mercy on this cruel task,
For love unmasks, yet none will ask.
Do not cry for what must part,
A drop must die to meet the heart.
The world, a playground, turns and spins,
A fleeting stage where loss begins.
Yet in these verses, divine and deep,
You, my teacher, in love I keep.
WoPoLi 
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