We are crying to our lord and master without peer:
all but his long curly hair is small and cheap beer.
We have lit a candle to his blazing presence,
and written many a ghazal about his essence.
We can’t help but sob a big puddle yet again:
whatever we have to say ruins paper and pen!
We have nothing at all to say that can exalt him;
our best praise bumps along like a bloody hymn.
We mumble to find a phrase that doesn’t quite snarl;
it turns out our loving is nothing but a quarrel!
We would shut up and forget all about such love-
if we didn’t think someone else deserved a shove!
To be sure, Darvish is inspired by two buck chuck;
but we have to say, all but the beloved bloody sucks!
