Category Archives: romance

Ottoman Poetry

021rt_lrg

The following is an old Ottoman poem written by Fuzuli. It dates from the 16th Century.

Beni candan usandırdı cefâdan yâr usanmaz mı
Felekler yandı âhımdan murâdım şem´i yanmaz mı

She made me tired of my life, doesnt my love get tired of her cruelty?

Heavens burned from my sigh, doesnt the candle of my will burn?

Kamu bîmârına cânân deva-yı derd eder ihsan
Niçün kılmaz bana derman beni bîmar sanmaz mı

She gives the cure of trouble to every patient of her

Why doesnt she heal me, doesnt she think that I am a patient too?

Şeb-i hicran yanar cânım döker kan çeşm-i giryânım
Uyarır halkı efgânım kara bahtım uyanmaz mı

My soul burns at the night of seperation, my crying eyes shed tears of blood

My cries make people wake up, doesn´t my bad fortune wake up too?

Gûl-i ruhsârına karşu gözümden kanlu akar su
Habîbim fasl-ı güldür bu akar sular bulanmaz mı

Against your rose like cheek, water fall bloody from my eye

My love, this is season of rose; don´t rivers blur?

Gâmım pinhan tutardım ben dedîler yâre kıl rûşen
Desem ol bî-vefâ bilmem inanır mı inanmaz mı

I was keeping my grief as a secret, they said make it known to the beloved

If I said, I don´t know whether that unfaithful would believe or not.

Değildim ben sana mâil sen ettin aklımı zâil
Beni tan eyleyen gafîl seni görgeç utanmaz mı

I was not interested in you, you made my mind undecided

Wouldn´t that unwary person (who speaks ill of me) be ashamed when he saw you.

Fuzûlî rind-i şeydâdır hemîşe halka rüsvâdır
Sorun kim bu ne sevdâdır bu sevdâdan usanmaz mı

Fuzuli is a crazy bohemian and always shameful in the eyes of folk

Ask what kind of love this is, isnt he sick of it?

Written by Fuzuli
(1483-1556)

Advertisements

Boo to Buddha by Aleister Crowley

Psychedelic_painting_8_by_psychedel

Boo to Buddha

So it is eighteen years,
Helena, since we met!
A season so endears,
Nor you nor I forget
The fresh young faces that once clove
In that most fiery dawn of love.

We wandered to and fro,
Who knew not how to woo,
Those eighteen years ago,
Sweetheart, when I and you
Exchanged high vows in heaven’s sight
That scarce survived a summer’s night.

What scourge smote from the stars
What madness from the moon?
That night we broke the bars
Was quintessential June,
When you and I beneath the trees
Bartered our bold virginities.

Eighteen -years, months, or hours?
Time is a tyrant’s toy!
Eternal are the flowers!
We are but girl and boy
Yet -since love leapt as swift to-night
As it had never left the light!

For fiercer from the South
Still flames your cruel hair,
And Trojan Helen’s mouth
Still not so ripe and rare
As Helena’s -nor love nor youth
So leaps with lust or thrills with truth.

Helena, still we hold
Flesh firmer, still we mix
Black hair with hair as gold.
Life has but served to fix
Our hearts; love lingers on the tongue,
And who loves once is always young.

The stars are still the same;
The changeful moon endures;
Come without fear or shame,
And draw my mouth to yours!
Youth fails, however flesh be fain;
Manhood and womanhood attain.

Life is a string of pearls,
And you the first I strung.
You left -first flower of girls! –
Life lyric on my tongue,
An indefatigable dance,
An inexhaustible romance!

Blush of love’s dawn, bright bud
That bloomed for my delight,
First blossom of my blood,
Burn in that blood to-night!
Helena, Helena, fiercely fresh,
Your flesh flies fervent to my flesh.

What sage can dare impugn
Man’s immortality?
Our godhead swims, immune
From death and destiny.
Ignored the bubble in the flow
Of love eighteen short years ago!

Time -I embrace all time
As my arm rings your waist.
Space -you surpass, sublime,
As, taking me, we taste
Omnipotence, sense slaying sense,
Soul slaying soul, omniscience.

by Aleister Crowley

April 2013

Surreal Love

surreal love

Surreal Love

Back at the university
Sleeps a girl so pretty
With hair the color of red wine
I pray for the day she’s mine

But that day has not come – yet
And so long as the sun sets
Will continue to yonder
Until like the wind, it’ll cease to wander

She had me dazed and confused
For so long till I finally came through
Thinking about her endlessly
Searching for her restlessly

I still don’t know why she came to me
While I was all alone in a darkened sea
I was deep within the depths of despair
But there she arrived on the scene, a stranger who cared

A man with a broken heart
She was broke too, for a start –
And has asked to borrow my match
Lighting it to flames that my soul would catch

Transcending the smoke of distress
Transgressing the pains of emptiness
Our eyes saw our true selves
No one knowing how deep our hugs could delve

Life was so real
Colorfully surreal
And shaped in shapes
Triangularly round, like pied grapes

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj
April 2, 2013

Givin’ You My Love

sucker punch

 

This one is for Layla –

 

Givin’ You My Love

 

You need soothing

I want cooling

Feeling fresh and hot

Drinking and smoking fresh what not

I want to give you love

Gonna give you some love

So much lovin’ you won’t move

So good you’ll lose yourself to the groove

Hustling down to bust a move

 

By the end of the night

Your eyes’ll be full of light

So happy you could die

So high that you’ll fly

Flying high to the sky in bliss

Throwing away all but my kiss

Gonna give you some love

Oh, a whole lotta love

Like a Zeppelin record I’m gonna have you singing

To the songs of my love begging for longing

 

Oh, baby, sweet pretty baby

Gonna give it to you good

The way you know I would

Deeply intense

Vividly full of sense

Gonna have you crying

Gonna have me dying

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

March 19, 2013

The Fate of Pontus

achilles

Being a fan of classical Greek poetry I composed my own poetic story based on the style of the Greek classics. Reminiscing about the tales of Achilles and Hector, Perseus and Hercules, I tried to create my own mythical hero, along with a story that shared elements of a fable, minus the animals. I’d really appreciate viewers’ feedback on this. Thanks.

 

The Fate of Pontus

Long ago, along the hills of Olympus

Lived a man by the name of Pontus

Well-built and handsome, he indulged in bliss

A hedonist, he seized the day kiss by kiss

Until the call of duty rang,

Carrying him away from home, the muses sang

As the winds blew his ship closer to his demise

He recalled the sorrow and despair he saw in his mother’s eyes

She said to him, “Oh my son, live by the sword, die by the sword; surrender to love, reign in love.”

Pontus held back his tears as he glared at the sun above

The gentle words had touched his heart, but it was too late

For a warrior must answer the call, regardless of his fate

The brave Pontus stood long in contemplation

Fearing nothing but dishonor and his men’s annihilation

‘O Apollo, God of Truth, guide me to victory,

Keep my feet firm, and my heart steadfast

The cunning master fought long and hard on the foreign field

Slaying his enemies before him, using his sword as a shield

He knew no defeat. Such a word did not exist for him,

For he’d rather confide in Ares, stricken with sin

Then die a dishonorable death

For the mighty Pontus, every move he made ensured his next breath

When the battle had been won,

He was awarded with the fairest maiden of the land

Blessed with the gods’ pleasure they showered him with fortunes of every brand

Taking what was rightfully his, he gave his men the remaining portion

Then on a cold night, inspired by the calling of the prophets

He loaded his horse and left the camp, abandoning all his valor

Leaving his men ravaged in war with agony and squalor

For without his presence none knew what to do

They wondered where this legend disappeared to.

Perhaps he was taken by the gods, out of jealousy,

Or maybe he had been seized by his enemies.

Theorizing was all his men could rely on

For their master was not dead, but assuredly gone.

He tarried to a faraway land, as the wind directed

Seeking a treasure his newly awakened senses detected

His passions took him to the land of the ice and snow

Where the men shot arrows from their bow

As they rode rambunctiously on the backs of black horses

These men had no fear; Pontus took to the nomads’ courses

And adopted their ways

Eating dried cow meat after hunting for days

Mating with the women the clansmen offered

Earning a sense of belonging, forgetting the pain he once suffered

What had become of that fate his mother foretold?

Death in the midst of battle; instead, he fled so that he may get old

Peace was now residing deep in the confines of his heart

The product of ending one chapter of a story only to write a new start

But then blew the wind one wicked and wild night

The gods never forget when it’s time to blow out the light

The chariots of fire came to seize Pontus, his time was in question

Falling rapidly, the sand of time had finally caught up with him

There was still time for him to the change the road he was on

And he needed to have met his ends before he would be forever gone

Apollo called;

Ares called;

Athena guided,

As Zeus decided

The fate of a wide-eyed warrior

Turned starry-skied worrier

‘Where am I supposed to be?’

Asked the man riding across the sea

In an aquamarine enclave accompanied by voracious beasts

Eagerly awaiting his reception at the holiest of Pagan feasts

When Pontus reached his destination the Master of Olympus

Laughed at the warrior-wanderer

Marauding the depths of his consciousness

In his hand Zeus held a staff of immortal forgiveness

‘What learned ye from these travels into the wilderness?’

Asked the King of Kings as the muse continued to sing

The mind is a plethora of vibrating thoughts that roam around and ring

A man finds who he truly is when he stops to hear

The music that the earth plays as if it we’re loud and clear

Learning that no lesson is taught too late

For as long as we have life, so too is death of our fate

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

March 12, 2013

The Song Remains the Same

love_memories_with_you-1366x768

The following poem I wrote just earlier tonight. The prose is quite simple and clear, not as kryptic or complex as the other material I usually write.

I took the title name from a great Led Zeppelin song.

The Song Remains the Same
Long ago lived a girl I know
Who was free of care with blondish hair
A wicked body and waist
Her sex never went to waste
With music she had such great taste
She never knew how to let me down
Sexiest girl I ever knew
Her eyes were ocean blue
The more I got the more love grew
She was all I had
Always made me glad
I made her laugh when she was sad
She was sure of herself
Love was a thing she never felt
Until she ran into me
Immaculate; she was the essence of beauty
Blinded by love and passion, my eyes couldn’t see
That life’s treasures don’t arrive without tragedy
Never have l lived a day better in love
Never had there been a brighter day without the sun up above
Had it not been for gravity
My feet would never touch the ground
But I must remain imprisoned in sanity
Till the music plays to the sound –
Good vibrations echoing in my heart
Transcending my soul; flying away to a new start
I was the King of the scene
As she reigned in love as my Queen
The wind blew wildly one hostile day
It left me alone, taking my love away
Lost, I didn’t know what to do
Life went on, steeped in solitude all was but mundane
All I thought I knew was no longer true
So I sought a means of staying sane
Whether I remain alone or gain some fame
At the end of the day the song remains the same

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

March 8, 2013

Peace of Mind

peace-train

Peace of Mind

Coming out of the gates

Opening up all the doors

I’m feeling fine and great

Seeking love from whores

Who offer temporary pleasure

Morality dies, but where’s my treasure?

 

Sophisticated and imbued in simplicity

Most of my depression is in sobriety

All I ask for is a good time, explicitly

Refusing to become another victim of society

Blissfully living in ecstatically expounded serenation

Dying to go on tripping in self-intoxication

 

Other may disagree with me when I say

We must learn to give up the fight and reign in love

But I pray for the day that hate fades away

Disintegrating into ashes flying to the sky above

Unifying all our spirits, rectifying the sins of the deceased

Gaining a peace of mind, one that cannot be bought or leased

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

March 7, 2013