Wednesday, November 2, 2016

JH Sayyar's Sonnets

221
I confess that I love you not O dear,
Why I cannot face your face full of woe,
This grace in solitude my heart does tear,
So my soft anger proves to be my love foe.
But I think you leave fresh memory behind,
To mourn over my lost love but new in vain,
Now you leave the world and I am kind,
To your false love O Rose my love is slain.
O Lady in the dead silence of spring night,
Breaks my heart into pieces your pretty voice,
And my past happy days memories me bite,
In such condition my poor soul can rejoice?

After you I will love to mourn over my fate,
I could not change into love your pretty hate.