Medina’s Grapevine

An apologetic response addressing critics with humility and reverence, blending themes of love, loss, and a quest for divine guidance.

Last night, an argument
Unfolded at the tavern.
Their faces away turned
As they made anger plain.

They felt unease:
The wine’s taste was else.

“Not the same as past,
The ecstasy lasts!

Serve us
The same old wine,
Else with you
We shall not dine.

We are used
To your old love.
No other spade
Can our hearts plough.”

I begged Him
For forgiveness!
I prayed to Him
For His guidance!

It was my fault:
The trouble wrought.

For the sake of change,
I’d served another range.

When lost
In the rapture of love,
I tossed
A drink for my lady love.

I was in a state
Of painful strain,
My heart,
In her dearth, in strain.

Yaqub always cried
For the separated Yusuf,
Though his Lord
Was for him dear enough.

I am a human
After all!
To feel pain
Isn’t a sin at all!

My wine flows
From the well of heart.
It has flaws
Like any earth-dwell.

I am a shy,
Crazy fledgling.
To wisely fly,
I am just learning.

’Tis a truth real:
I am hardly familiar
With paths of Jilan or Ghazzal.
I have no knowledge clear.

My Friend
Is not from Tabriz.
My Word
Is not from Shiraz.

I hold on
To my tiny being:
Of smoke I become—
Not a ring.

Hey, those who assemble
Near Jaihoon’s table!

Your care
Makes me dare
To serve you better
The drink of Medina’s Master!

Your sincere protest
Is my confidence.
Feel free to detest
When you are upset.

If I serve you in repeat
Wine of another sort,
Hesitate not to throw
The cup on my face!

My poetic wine,
And its true soul:
From the grapevine
Sown on Medina’s soil.

Hey Mustafa!
Hey Mustafa!

The cosmos is
Never, ever exhausted:
Even if your praise is
A zillion times repeated!

Such blessed fortune:
Mine alone
To suffer shame and blame
When away from You I turn!

The letters I was taught
At my mother’s lap, school,
For Your loving tribute
Shall be my lavish tool.

If I am want of noble deeds
And barred from al-Kawthar,
I’d cast a distant glance
On Your moon-lit face.

Hey Beloved!

The meaning
Of Love are You!
The synonym
Of Beauty are You!

No, I shall not wipe
The tears which flow
As I these lines I write
In the pain of Your love.

I save it
For the future,
To keep it
As a fortune.

To see the rivers
Of the sweet Heaven,
These salty drops
May become a reason.

July 19th 2006. Edit June 2024