My heart sings

I place a flowery twig behind your ear

Honoring, praising, contemplating you

My heart sings like a flute

I think that now I shall know joy.

Within my heart I’ve made a palace

For you and a golden throne

I spread the ground with frangipane

To make a carpet for my goddess...

But you are quite ordinary

There is no point in languishing

You’re only embarrassed that I am

Bizarre, alone, clinging to the past.

Amir Hamzah
tr. after Damais