Laila and Majnoon

Yes- they will stone me today
But will you come like Laila
Of the fables- and save me from
Their wrath- Or is it better this way
That another mad Majnoon embraces
Death the same way-just so that people
Can call a little heap of stones a monument?

And I promise you- whoever you are
When you lie atop me to protect me from
Their serpentine whips- My hands will
Not for once let them touch your back.
And for the lack of a weapon, Laila- I will
Snatch swords from their hands by the blade
And if not that- I'll spit on them till they drown.

And whenever that new dawn brightens their doors-
I promise I'll be the gulmohar, dropping orange-hued
Flowers on your grave- and flesh to flesh- bone to bone
Spirit to spirit, I shall meet you in your heavenly abode.
And there I'll write you songs and ballads of our love
Which they will sing too- but devoid. Of feelings-
Of pain, of passion, of nuances, of hope, of love.
Of Laila and Majnoon- albeit they'll chant the names.