Who loved you before Me

Who Loved you before me?

Who painted your hair with moonlit strokes?

Who combed your braids with his fine fingers?

Who colored your eyes with gaze and flair?

Who harvested you, as honey from his garden's blooms?

Who molded your body from the golden Persian craft?

Many have loved you, they say it's true,

But do they know a love like my love?

they never possessed nights like mine,

With moonless shores by the sea's confines,

Their soft fingers are not like the gazelle's grace,

Their ashes are scattered over the desert's face,

Their honey and gold, without bees or hues.

Who loved you before me?

If he was a knight, and you are his sword,

then all of the Arabian horsemen fell

In my kingdom, they bowed to your reign, nobles untamed.

If he was Qais, and you're Layla, burning so bright,

All those ignorant verses, I'd set them alight,

If he was nectar, and you're the flower, intoxicating the air,

Wild roses and thorns, I'd leave none to spare.

If he was the Winter, and you're the rain, changing the scene,

I have changed all the Ordinary seasons, turned by your sheen,

If he was a melody, and you're the music string, the forbidden song,

In my realm, you silenced the ivory throng.

I, my lady, am the one,

Who painted your face, like gold in the sun,

Whose love infused your heart, eternal and deep,

Whose gifted to your cheeks, a blush, tender and sweet.

Who loved you before me, and who after me?

I am the beginning and the end of love for you,

I am the final chapter, the start of your days,

The first light to touch your enchanting gaze.

I am, my lady, the one and the only,

The warmth in your bed, the lover so holy,

The first and the last to lay claim to your charms,

Your mirror, your muse, in my loving arms.

I am the lord of your timeless affection,

For those who loved you before me, found no direction,

They carried their baggage and rode out of sight,

Left you behind, helpless, in the cold, dark night.

And who shall love you after, won't have a clue,

How to sketch you at night, not even in a dream,

For my brush and my pen, they trade the scene,

An oil canvas, a poem, eternal and true.

I, my lady, am the master of your endless love,

For who loved you before me, the baggage he'd shove,

Onto a train, through distances he'd glide,

But he lost you, my dear, in my hands, by his own side.

I, my lady, am your everlasting lord,

Whose love for you, unending and broad,

In my arms, you rest, my one and my only,

For those who loved you before, are lonely.

I am the master of your endless devotion,

For who loved you before me, sailed far from the ocean,

Left you behind, lost in the night's embrace,

But I am here now, to fill that empty space.

So, my lady, remember this well,

In my love, your heart shall forever dwell,

I am the first and the last, your eternal flame,

Your muse, your mirror, your love's true name

POEM 2

Like the Tides and the Isles...

From the sea, you carry me,

Upon the shore, you cast me free.

In shades of silver, you paint my frame,

With the veil of night, you erase my name.

I escape the chaos of your waves,

Captured by the rebellion your isles engrave.

I wander as mist, fleeing your grasp,

Returning as a grain of sand in your clasp.

Like the tides and the isles... it's you,

And I, with no boundaries but your arms, it's true.