Manoucher Avaznia

Killjoy Jaan;

What I wrote there was a hasty response to the poet you had broungt up, however my notion of love is a universal love towards everything.  Marriage and sexual love, however beautiful, are not the ultimate goals of the love that I see as this poet whom you have quoated has expressed.  This love whithers fast and the cause will not last.  Mowlavee has said:

عشقهایی کز پی رنگی بود

عشق نبود عاقبت ننگی بود.

Seeking Satisfaction

In barren plains of insanity

I am so stunned at the vanity

Of a wise poking nose in my affairs

About what I do, why ever he cares.

Everything I do; to me is sweet

My sweet habits I never quit

Nobody I hurt; no one I bruise

For no trouble, I am on cruise.

I so much enjoy this state of mind

Such companion, it is hard to find.

Some insanities, always take place

In a different time, space, and place

Someone is busy with smear campaign,

Other one tries what is lost regain

Someone is on run from full detain,

Someone is seeking whatever's entail.

With a jubilance; with an outmost might

Trees stretch towards the Sun's light 

Planets rotate around far stars

Stars are in love with bigger stars.

Don't be surprised if words come like rain:

"Everything you did has been all in vain".

In their sex organ, some see the virtues,

For their worshiping, they build statues.

Raindrops hurry to a thirsty land,

You say their movement has been all planned.

I have given you just one example

Now, it is your turn to find the ample.

Unless you agree, everything's in love

And this the way disputes resolve

Everything's seeking a satisfaction

To attain that end, chooses a fashion.

This is the reason it is in motion

And always rumbles like a vast ocean

Sometimes going left, often to the right

Sometimes, soothingly, often using might

Sometimes it swells; often down it goes,

From its grave, again it grows

My Dear Friend; in reality

Everyone carries some insanity.

To the same pillar, you and I are chained

By a kind of love, we are both insaned.

Someone is like me: maddened by a face,

Others carry love under a surface.

Let's face the truth with whole existence

It is of no use a wrong persistence:

We will harvest nil in this barren land

In this vast desert, we grow just sand.

All these creatures are in move and change

Moving towards calm with nothing exchange.

Dear Manoucher,

You wrote,

No one in the world this battle has won
Why towards a love we are on the run.

Once I heard this in a movie,"Don't cnfuse love with sex, it'll ruin both for you." or something of that nature.

At the time, I thought it was a wise piece of advice. But I haven't seen so many marriages where one could last without the other.

And here's how the Englis poet, John Dryden, made a mockery of such marriages:

La Mariage A La Mode
by John Dryden

Why should a foolish marriage vow,
Which long ago was made,
Oblige us to each other now
When passion is decay'd?
We loved, and we loved, as long as we could,
Till our love was loved out in us both:
But our marriage is dead, when the pleasure is fled:
'Twas pleasure first made it an oath.

If I have pleasures for a friend,
And farther love in store,
What wrong has he whose joys did end,
And who could give no more?
'Tis a madness that he should be jealous of me,
Or that I should bar him of another:
For all we can gain is to give our selves pain,
When neither can hinder the other.

سوری جان؛

باز همصحبتی باده و می خوران جست 

آنکه انکار دل و روی فریبا می کرد

آرش جان؛

من جهانی را می شناسم

که هر بامداد با نغمه ای از خواب بر می خیزد

و راهی دراز در جستجوی گمشده ای می پیماید

سر شار از نشئه چنگی که شنیده بود شب هنگام.

من رد پای کهکشان را یافتم

آن هنگام که گام بر بام ذره ها نهاده

آیت عشق را جاوانه تلاوت کرد.

من عشق را در شکفتن دانه ها دیده ام.

گمان برده اید کاین پیراهنها بی سببی است که چاک خورده اند؟

باور بیاورید

سنگها جاریان همان بسترند

که جویباران در آن ترانه حیات را جاودانه می سرایند. 

Killjoy Jaan;

When I turn to twenty and one

No one's heart I had ever won.

Of the treasures also I had none.

Hope of sweet love for ever was gone.

Now that I am almost fifty plus one

With these love peoms your mind I stun.

No one in the world this battle has won

Why towards a love we are on the run.

Your poem is again Hafezaneh ziba....

سالها دل طلب جام جم از ما میکرد

وانچه خود داشت ز بیگانه تمنا میکرد

مشکل خویش بر پیر مغان بردم دوش

کو به تائید نظر حل معما میکرد

دیدمش خرم و خندان قدح باده بدست

وندر آن آینه صد گونه تماشا میکرد

گفتم این جام جهان بین به تو کی‌ داد حکیم ؟

گفت آن روز که این گنبد مینا میکرد

این همه شعبده خویش که میکرد اینجا

سامری پیش عصا و ید بیضا میکرد

گفت آن یار کزو گشت سر دار بلند

جرمش آن بود که اسرار هویدا میکرد

فیض روح لقدس ار باز مدد فرماید

دیگران هم بکنند آنچه مسیحا میکرد

گفتمش سلسلهٔ زلف بتان از پی‌ چیست ؟

گفت حافظ گله ی از دل شیدا میکرد

Internal harp

Dear Manuchehr - many thanks for reminding us of the internal harp, which in my case is now addicted to your regular musical tunings!

All the best,

Arash M-K

Dear Manouchehr,

This might help!

When I Was One and Twenty

A.E. Hausman

When I was one and twenty,
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one and twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one and twenty
I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a-plenty
And sold for endless rue."
And I am two and twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.