The Thread - Bemanian

The Thread

همیشه آرزو به نگاهی ز ماه روی تو بود
به هر قدم گذری پویشی به راه تو بود

Ceaselessly and persistently, relentlessly
and perpetually it is the dream, marvel, and
delusion of your glance, the peek, the
glimpse, that is gazing, gawking, and gawping
over my instant intuitions, instincts, and
inklings. No, it is not a suspicion or hint,
intimation or allusion, insinuation or
suggestion. It is the solid compulsion, the
impulse, the urge. It is the incessantly
growing flame, the blaze, the kindle of
searching and seeking your intimacy and glare
that galvanizes my thoughts, ponderously
perpetuates my heart beat, and exuberantly
instigates my existence.
Every move, pace, and footstep, every pause,
gap, and period, and within every stride, gait,
and headway; it is my desire and intent, the
feverish and scorching impel and incite to swim,
swing, and sway seeking you, examining the
footsteps, evaluating the impressions, and
pondering the patterns.
To perceive you at every juncture, predicament,
and by captivation of every perception. To seek
you within the conjecture of compulsions, the
persuasion of presumptions and premises, and by
promotion and stoutness to prevail the solitude of
spirit and essence to purely adore you.

چو دید و دیده به خون خاطر نمای تو بود
چه لحظه ها به خطا قصه خیال تو بود

The sights and visions, the spectacles and
prospects, and the discernments and
astuteness explore and expand, vigil and
awaken, to make me neglectful of
predicaments, quandaries, and obscurities.
They are prevalent and persistent,
insightful and astounding when the desire
and dream revolves, gyrates, and twirls
bounded by your surroundings and ambiance.
When the twinkles of trust, the rays of
hope and promise, the tunes of prospects
and possibilities are purely emanated and
emerged from you.
But still and despite of the reflections,
deliberations, and contemplations, the
arrogance, superciliousness, and
self-conceit combined with hesitations,
qualms, and quandaries do not allow to
refine, propound, and proclaim the vivid
path of your affection, adoration, and
reverence.
Stories, scripts, and tales have lurked
and loitered, dallied and dawdled,
sneaking at the moments and instances to
dilute, attenuate, and mitigate the cores,
cruxes, and cruces of my attainments,
apprehensions, and fulfillments.

مگر که بود ندادی نگار رمز وجود
که جود تو به تأنی هزار خاطره بود

Has the existence and subsistence stemmed
from its veracities and authenticities, the
secrets of verve and vivacity, the hopes
and virtues of devotion and dedication not
been revealed as vehemently and fervently
as perceived and professed?
Or, the bubbles of mysteries and enigmas,
fizzes of hesitations, reluctances, and
disinclinations which in occasions cross
my cognizance are urging and admonishing
pretentious prevalence, rebuking the
intelligence, acumen, and aptitude?
Although, mesmerizing, enthralling,
absorbing, and captivating your bounty and
bounteousness merely in a split of a second,
a fissure of light, or a moment passed by
solitude reveals thousands of tales. One by
one expressive of exemplary entails, etching
entities in remembrance exclusive of
exaltations and exhilarations., to evoke
elevation, allurement, appeal, and attainment.

ولی تو گو به خرابات راه گم کردیم
کمند زلف تو هر تار جمله میکده بود
شعر از: علیرضا بمانیان

It is the irony, incongruity, and
contrarieties to perplex, bewilder, and
baffle my astuteness and awareness.
Instances of dilution, propending to
ponder, delusive to deliberate, though
premeditating the rumbling reverberation
of fascinations.
The occasions, when the mirage and
phantasm of adversity and calamity prod
and nudge the reservoir of endurance and
tenacity acquired and attained during the
boundaries of my journey to instantiate
from within and traversed to caressing,
catching, and reaching you.
It is the bow, the bend, and the arch of
your hair, each single strand, fiber, and
thread that reiterates and reaffirms the
heart and soul of the entirety of life,
verve, and vivacity. The strand to
contemplate and comprehend, the fiber to
fuse and fixate to, and the thread to
transpire and transcribe. The thread
commendable of encapsulation and resilient,
and irrepressible to inebriate the sanctuary
of comprehension.