I am caught in Love’s web so deceitful
None of my endeavors turn fruitful.
I knew not when I rode the high-blooded stead
The harder I pulled its reins the less it would heed.
Love is an ocean with such a vast space
No wise man can swim it in any place.
A true lover should be faithful till the end
And face life’s reprobated trend.
When you see things hideous, fancy them neat,
Eat poison, but taste sugar sweet
– Rabi’a Balkhi
Sous la Neige Rouge de Kabul
by Zalmai Herman
Jan.-March 1999
Lemar-Aftaab
comme un immense amour non partage’
seul
Comme l’ombre de la lumie’re sur un desert
j’ai soif
comme le poe’te assaine pour ses mot
j’insiste
comme les femmes d’Auschwitz ;
sans
espoire
Comme les femme de Kabul;
comme les enfants sans familles sous la neige rouge ;
Je me sens frustre’et humilie’
faire
.
Lost Moons
by Zaheda Ghani
Jan.-March 1999
Lemar-Aftaab
even though you stand close to me,
i cannot let you touch the heart strings,
for i know that you will break them.
i can see time taking me away,
like a river going further only.
i thought you might have the magic key,
but your will tells me its only a dream.
sometimes no matter how much one yearns of staying,
like sand they slip through the fingers.
watching it disappear,
even if it was something you always wanted.
tell the clock to hold one moment longer its incessant ticking.
and slow down the clouds of doubt
which come rising around me.
let it stay the same for one more day,
so you can bring back the moon you lost one night.
but its always too late…”
.
“Atish Fishon” – (“Volcano”)
by Qais Arsala
Jan.-March 1999
Lemar-Aftaab
the winds of reason and logic have
disturbed the volcanic thoughts of the artist,
he shall not dance with that spicy
pizzaz that once defined him
to stare endlessly into the infinite sea
as the brow ridges of the skull
creates a portrait of intense proportions…
those were the days of yesteryear
as he lay weeping at his fathers
grave:
“ma chee guna kardaim baba jaan,
tu mera bogo…ma cheee guna kardaim?”
silent screams to no avail,
close the eyes to imagine those days of
pouring rains where the
aroma of the Pacific cafes accented
the deep disturbance inside…
to plant a seed in the garden of affection,
only to be wounded so badly
by the same delicate flower..
gazing in devotion into her deep drowsy
eyes puts me in a trance beyond
any realm of imagination…
drowning in an absolute eternal consciousness
like the crazed laughter of the madmen waving
their canes at the setting sun…
let us shield ourselves with our digital
cell phone umbrellas from the monsoons of
the neon fortune cookies…
once a glass is broken
we cannot even begin to resurrect what it was,
we can only attempt to replicate a memory of it…
her smile,
photosynthesis to the weakened heart…
her wink,
a potent magical spell upon the rivers of humanity…
her kiss,
a venom of ecstasy injected to the
malnourished naive spirit of the poet…
i would much rather be a fool drowning in the
seas of affection, than a wise man
who is always left to wander…
strawberry flavored pencil caps
as the rat race against the hourglass
filters through the naked sun…
nourishment of the afflicted soul with a dash
of supremely enhanced DNA…
i cannot justify the insanity within…
i loved her,
i adored her,
yet i had to set her free from the cage of
infinite abundance…
I am the bitter fruit falling upon the earth.
Thus in the clutches of time I remain.
O spring of liberty! Your grace, what else it could be
But to render this bitter fruit sweet?
The greatest wealth of this world is the company of friends,
The agony of death:
Separation from them,
But since they are all together, the friends,
Resting deep in the heart of the dust,
What difference does it make
Whether alive or dead.
Out of pain and sorrow destiny has molded me.
What, Alas, has been my joy from the cup of life?
Like a candle burning in the blowing wind,
I tremble, I burn, … I die.
—
Ustad Khalilullah Khalili
Oh’ Great Mountain, reaching far into the sky!
How long will you find satisfaction in self love?
Though just a tiny butterfly, I am yet free,
To dance on a flower head while you remain shackled.
—
Ustad Khalilullah Khalili
Quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever seen on the internet today…
[note to self: move to horse later]
“Jean, dear, this is the happiest place on earth. I need to find a bar.”
😀
KRSVP is a Rapid Serial Visual Presentation (RSVP), or textual reading enhancement, application for KDE.
In RSVP, text is displayed word by word in the center of the textarea at an adjustable speed and the reader watches the words, just like watching a movie. This technique partially solves some problems that slow you down in normal reading, including obviating the need to scoll and search for the next words, preventing the reader from re-reading previously read text passages, preventing pronunciation of words by the reader. This might result in a much higher reading speed and comprehension.
