One summer’s eve in Spain,
I fled through an open window,
Butterflies aflight
In the very pit of me,
And I tramped the streets,
My heart abrim
With such a love,
But a love now long gone.

With my final matches,
I forged a heart
At that maiden’s doorstep;
I was like a thief,
On that torrid night,
My heart abrim
With so much love,
But a love now long gone.

And what of the maiden in azure?
O! What an inferno raged
Within my soul for her,
But that love
Never bloomed beyond a dream,
My heart abrim
With such a love,
But a love now long gone.

I said to Love,
“It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,”
I said to Love.

I said to him,
“We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would’st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,”
I said to him.

I said to Love,
“Thou art not young, thou art not fair,
No elfin darts, no cherub air,
Nor swan, nor dove
Are thine; but features pitiless,
And iron daggers of distress,”
I said to Love.

“Depart then, Love!
Man’s race shall perish, threatenest thou,
WIthout thy kindling coupling-vow?
The age to come the man of now
Know nothing of?
We fear not such a threat from thee;
We are too old in apathy!
Mankind shall cease…—
So let it be,”
I said to Love.

I
He was leaning by a face,
He was looking into eyes,
And he knew a trysting-place,
And he heard seductive sighs;
But the face,
And the eyes,
And the place,
And the sighs,
Were not, alas, the right ones—the ones meet for him—
Though fine and sweet the features, and the feelings all abrim.

II
She was looking at a form,
She was listening for a tread,
She could feel a waft of charm
When a certain name was said;
But the form,
And the tread,
And the charm,
And name said,
Were the wrong ones for her, and ever would be so,
While the heritor of the right it would have saved her soul to know!

I see it glowing in
   your eye, so new,
  And on those hips
     of yours, tender
         and lean,
Hosting Beauty in all
   its breadth and
     depth, I see the
        dew
  Of a new dawn in
     my heart and
       soul, to win
A new horizon
   abrim with joy and
      with you lived in
         peace;
  Like Aurora in
     early-dawn  mist
       carrying those
          'milky thighs'
             that forever
               men's
                hearts deem
  To beat too fast,
    speechless in the
     quiet utter loss
In truelove's holy
    light, unable to
     awake, or dream
  And so is my heart
     in your  palms,
       whatever you
          say, wherever
             you go,
No words can
   express what in my
       heart wanes,
  What feelings, what
      thoughts, what
       hopes in want--
Nor how to your
   ignorance I cannot
     explain my pains,
  What with your
      love I see and
        know,
          you just can't
Imagine in your best
   mind, all things
     being equal:
  Of Joy, and Love,
     and all in holy
         light
Of truelove; but alas!
     as theirs is a
       cry without
          content,
  The moth and the
      star, so truelove
         for you will
           only be dream
             of night,
Never to breathe
   daylight,  never to
      live what was
        meant
  With Joy,
    unconditioned
      love with no
       second-thoughts;
Your "Hi," said with
    a tremble of soul,
     with a defensive
        smile,
  Still self-conscious--
     treading with
       needless pain,
Worries about
   tomorrows over
      which you hardly
        control for even
          a while,
  And second-
     thoughts that in
        our love you
         cannot explain,
Though in your
   mind you sport it--
     where's the joy of
       love you're
         supposed to
           live, anyway?
                     -by
      Hakim H. Kassim.
      (d. July 31, 2023/
       Jigjiga)