Let us March to Meem

I know not a candy
More sweeter than you

I know not a treasure
More precious than you

I know not a star
More brighter than you

I know not a wine
More intoxicating than you

I know not a beauty
More alluring than you

I know not a rose
More fragrant than you

My eyes:
And what eyes are they
If you haven’t appeared
So far in its lens?

My life:
And what life is it
If it hasn’t met you
At its final end?

My soul
And what soul is it
If it hasn’t tasted
Your drink of al-Kawsar?

You are the Sun
Paradise’ bliss its mere light

Only Lord knows the mystery
Of Meem and this love-story

This tale shall forever
Remain shamefully incomplete
Even if I scribble my madness
While alive, in the grave and beyond

These lines are rather
My heart’s medicine:
To cure the burns of love
To preserve my sanity
To soften my throbbing heart
To console my weeping soul

Deceived by the Tech-messiahs
Looted by the greed-prophets
We have gathered at the funeral
Of our oppressed humanity

As honor and truth are in strife
Greed and envy remain earth-rife
Let us then march to Beloved Meem
The source and end of life

13th June 2003. Edit March 2022