Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 6
I heard you singing Persian songs last year,
    Which made me wonder much about your life;
Were you a traveller lacking all fear,
    Or close to home, within your youth a wife?
That glow upon your face made me feel old,
    And fret about the years who're passing by,
What all could have been lived with you and told,
    If I were younger now, so I could try.
But still, why all the sadness in your speech?
    A storm within, a feeling of a fight,
Also at the same time trying to teach
    The people about hope, with frame and sight.
I thought you had it all, the glow and glee,
But learned you're three years older than me.
misunderstanding age sonnet
Ceyhun Mahi Apr 14
We fight and seperate when life's a bore;
There is an emptiness within our core.
It is as if our pain is sweeter when
We're young – it doesn't suit us anymore.
Ceyhun Mahi Apr 12
How easy do those small birds fly,
Over the things which make us cry,
And feel like the greatest burdens,
In the depths and peaks of the sky.
written in 2016.
Ceyhun Mahi Mar 27
The diamond of the city is the moon,
The faces of the pretty ones the sun,
The mirrors of the buildings stars, they shine
So people can indulge in joy and fun.
Ceyhun Mahi Oct 2020
He is a soul who doesn't know the world,
    Yet sees with his own two eyes its rules,
While his body is by his sadness curled,
    Counting his tears, who look like dewy jewels.
The crazy wind goes through his glossy hair,
    And its sword does almost strike his pale throat,
He's in a twisted state beyond compare,
    In his shaking hands the fine poems he wrote.
Viewing the Mystic's path, sometimes the frame
    Of life appears, yet all it secrets are
Still far away from him, he knows each name
    Of saint and poet, but still is far, too far.
Will the meaning of his life come true?
That brooding poet, he sometimes has a clue.
Inspired by a poet from two centuries ago.
Ceyhun Mahi Oct 2020
When haunted by memories of the pasts,
Laying in bed, trying to sleep and dream
About the things who in the end will last,
I am hopeless, like nights who yearn to gleam.
I remember the park, the bench, the kiss,
The slow-passed music, and a warm embrace,
Things who I only at nighttime do miss,
And never think about throughout my days.
It is not love, that love of blissful youth,
The touches of her warmth, a stream of joy,
Who when the hands did touch always did sooth,
Or that I was an energetic boy;
It is the sleeping ignorance in me
That I do miss, who set me always free.
Ceyhun Mahi Sep 2020
هر موج نگاه و خنده ها زیبا است
از یار سخن لب شفا زیبا است
ای دوست چه عجب که بیوفا زیبا است
این عشق و حال مبتلا زیبا است

''Each wave of (her) glance and smiles is beautiful,
The words of the healing lips from the beloved are beautiful.
O friend, is it strange? that unfaithful beloved is beautiful,
This love and its state of suffering is beautiful.''

This is my first rubai (rhymed and metered) poem written in Farsi!
Next page