OK, two consecutive poems in two entries. Am I becoming a love fool? Hardly. I was talking to my sister couple of days back about Rabia Balkhi, the famous Persian/Afghan Poetess of 10th century. The story goes like this (courtesy of Wikipedia):
Rabiah's brother Haares was the governor of the state. Rabiah was secretly in love with Haares' Turkish slave names Baktash. Haares found out about the affair from Rudaki, another fellow poet, and imprisoned both of them, Baktash to a well, and Rabiah to a bathroom. He then cuts off the jugular vein of his sister and leaves her dying. She writes her final poems in the walls of the bathroom with her blood. Baktash finally escapes, finds out about Rabiah, goes to governor's office, kills Haares and commits suicide.
Uplifting, eh?
So, here's Rabiah's last poem, written with blood in Persian on the walls.
I am caught in Love's web so deceitful
None of my endeavors turn fruitful.
I knew not when I rode the high-blooded stead
The harder I pulled its reins the less it would heed.
Love is an ocean with such a vast space
No wise man can swim it in any place.
A true lover should be faithful till the end
And face life's reprobated trend.
When you see things hideous, fancy them neat,
Eat poison, but taste sugar sweet
(Courtesy: afghandonia.com)
