The Turkish love poetry of the 15th c. master Fuzuli touches me whenever I read it, and I hope you’re similarly affected.
Do you think the poem is sweet or cheesy?
“If my heart were a wild bird”
If my heart were a wild bird, it would nest in your twisted curl
Wherever I am, oh jinn, my love is by your side
I’m happy with my suffering, take your hand
from the medicine that will cure me
Oh doctor, do not heal me, the poison
that destroys me is your cure!
Don’t be shy and pull your skirts from the hands
of those fallen with love — take care!
For the hands which hold your hem, if you suddenly
emptied, may pray evilly to the sky
The fragments of my shattered heart lie pierced
on the spearpoints of your lashes
Go to sleep, drunk on your own beauty, and mend
my heart by the closing of your eyes
Separation from you is death, beloved, the end
of life itself
I am bewildered by others who live long
apart from you
The wick of your spirit is twisted
like the hyacinth curl of the beloved
Hey Fuzuli, you can’t hope for release
until you burn like a candle with love’s flame