For Sir B.
Spoil Maleseh
Something special these days may commence (9)
And I beg for this ardor beats to cease (10)
Yet, nothing can trap me sweeter in this fence (11)
So, I cry for this longing cannot be at ease. (12)
Certainly Maleseh we are not meant to be (12)
And nothing of me can discord your ill fate (11)
Yet, those smiles can pin and sting like a bee (10)
For even your song is against my faith. (9)
How I wish you are not Maleseh (9)
And how I pray for us to have a chance (10)
Yet dissenting the prospect dries my sea; (11)
So long to my bittersweet crime my Maleseh (12)
And yet I still pray...