Mauj_e_Darya

The Wave

This unquiet heart keeps me in constant torment, This sacred agony, like quicksilver, is my element.

My name is Wave; to me, the ocean itself seems shallow, May the whirlpool's circle never hold me in its hollow.

My steed moves like the wind upon the water's way, The sharpest fish-bone never makes my garment stay.

At times I leap, drawn by the perfect, pulling moon; At times I writhe and dash my head against the shore's hard stone.

I am that traveler in love with the final goal, Ask my own heart why this yearning consumes my soul.

I flee the torment of the river's narrow straits, In anguish, separated from the ocean's vast expanse.