The Illusion

Ruman Hussain

The piano and my beloved by the piano,
The flower or star inside her hair,
And my hand with a burning cigarette,
An urn of alcohol or an aroma of affection,
I don’t know a single thing!
The haze of illusion covers everything
The floor, the bed and the ceiling –

A stony me appears, I feel nothing
And then the second comes!
My beloved starts to sing heavenly,

“It’s love, It’s love…”
The dumb, I, listening to the only sound

For ever and ever —It’s love, It’s love…