The Wistful Route

A poem by Morteza

As strolling along the wistful route,

I murmur the love which has taken root.


Clear like the result of a one-sided fight;
As the sun never shines at night.


Knowing it well: She'll never be mine,
Loving her forever is the lover's fine.


I'm fool of you honey,
But I have no money.


Although  this seems so funny,
Not for the eyes which are runny.


I'm fool you,
What should I do?


I don't want to make you sad,

But your love is drivin' me mad.


My life is as dark as night,
And I won't try again to be right.


Look at the loneliest lovelorn,
How much his face is sad and worn.


There is no reason,
For a born in the fall season.


There is no reason to be alive,
Except for your eyes which they revive.


Only I know when the sun rise:
It's when you open your eyes.


Let me hold your hand,
To walk in your eyes' sand.


I've not seen a day sunny,
Since I saw you my honey.


You don't know how much I love you,
Much more than everybody thinks I do.

 I was captivated by your eyes,
And it takes me far away, miles and miles;


Over the clouds in the blue skies;
Where I can shout my cries.


 I know this love is just a pie in the sky,
So, why I could not forget you, why?


The wistful route companies me through all its pains,
And I sigh for all my dreams which faded under rains.