Winter's song

I dreamt and searched everywhere 

for an eyesome maiden,

with eating eyes and wavy hair

beating heart traversing mine

passionate but honest and truly fair

but couldn't find her anywhere

Eagerness brought me but despair,

even in a cold and snowy winter air

when her eyes sparkled with a flare

her lips like torch flames in the passionate air

she turned away as I kissed her there

then she left and was not there.

Melodious songs composed with care

presented as gifts , unique and rare

could not change her unwavering stare

Lost into the abyss, like a deathbed prayer

torn into pieces with battering wear

she whispered something in midair 

and as I returned 

I could not find her there

Alas I drove for five hundred miles

Through the desert in a snowy night

where I read a commoner's verse

on the back of a passing truck

"Don't search; I did;

She is not there......." 

Payman Abdali

March 6th 2015

عشق در يك بعد از ظهر برفى - Love on a snowy afternoon

مينوشم هر جرعه ى با تو بودن 

مى شمارم هر نفس پر حرارتت را

ميرقصم با هر تپش قلبى كه

به شوق و شور و نياز رسيدن 

به آهنگ هوس نهفته در نگاه 

به ترس گذر از مرز رسوايى

ميتپد افسار گسيخته

ميتپد ديوانه وار

بى قرار در سينه ى تو

پر شرر در آغوش من

در يك بعد از ظهر برفى

I drink every sip of our togetherness 

and count every burning breath

I dance with each beat of your heart

that beats 

on passion and longing

on the yearning hidden in every glimpse

on the fear of infatuation revealed

that beats restlessly, unbridled

in your chest

flaring with compassion

in my arms

on a snowy afternoon.

Love, making love on a snowy afternoon

عشق بازى، عشق در يك بعد از ظهر برفى

Unconditional Love

Is there a pure definition of love?

Is there a pure definition of anything?
Why do we set conditions and conditions
And research those conditions when
Love is just there.


Conditions, conditions
The source of our decisions
Conditions, conditions
The need for our decisions
Conditions, conditions but
The core of our religion is love

Without fear, is there love at all?
Without feelings, is there love at all?
Without need, is there love at all?
Without wanting, wanting, wanting 
Is there love at all?

Conditions, conditions
The source of our decisions
Conditions, conditions
The need for our decisions
Conditions, conditions but
The core of our religion is love.

Without fear, is there love at all?
Without hurting, is there love at all?

Conditions, conditions
The source of our decisions
Conditions, conditions
The need for our decisions
Conditions, conditions but
The core of our religion is love.

Do we have to set conditions on everything?
Can’t we just accept “what is” is?

Without hope, is there love at all?
Without healing, is there love at all?
Without a smile, is there love at all?
Without fantasy, fantasy, fantasy
Is there love at all?

Conditions, conditions
The source of our decisions
Conditions, conditions
The need for our decisions
Conditions, conditions but
The core of our religion is love.

Conditions, conditions
The source of our decisions
Conditions, conditions
The need for our decisions
Conditions, conditions but
The core of our religion is love.

Conditions, conditions
The source of our decisions
Conditions, conditions
The need for our decisions
Conditions, conditions but
The core of our religion is love.

And that is all.

Payman Abdali

Time, space and Silvia

The immaculate stream of wonder
Of a bewildered nagging rage-infected soul
Evaporate in the flames of fear
Flames lie in the thought
And live above the earth
Yellow, red and orange with a dark blue mystery
They bring comfort, but burn the soul
The infected soul
The nagging soul
And the infinite wild brushes of the color of dreams
Cannot, do not and will not avenge the thirst for revenge
revenge "The passing of time"

The lilies die
The mosquito die
As time lives and rejuvenates
And life’s shriveling time-space calls for passing passion
For momentary senseless joy

Silvia calls from the other room
She was just reborn from the ashes of a cricket
A cricket that lived on the Taliqan glacier
And one day she jumped over a tent sat on the mountain
Where two lovers were making love
And the cricket caught fire
The fire of the lover’s passion
The fire of a heated moment
A fire
Yellow, red and orange with a dark blue mystery

Silvia calls, I must go.