A Smile of Ambivalence.

I am a man of pain and stress,
Long-held laments within, I abstain;
Being proved soft by the mistress,
Will She make me cry again?

She is a beautiful thing, a sight it beholds,
When she was lifted in the midair, 
I grasped the fact I was standing on thresholds.
A height of pain and now everything seems fair.

A thing I’ve been longing to tell you,
You lied there in pain, mixed with comfort,
How I beamed amid the eyes bled through.
I stood still, my feet were encumbered. 

In my heart was a gratifying suffering adjoined,
A grief, I couldn’t find the words to pen,
You have had your share mother, console my mind;
Will She make me cry again?

The clocks went shallow and I moved lucidly,
By the headrest, avidly glanced down at her,
I’ve never been so sad, never so happy.
When those tiny hand engulfed my finger.

She will grow up to be a great woman;
And She will excel in things beyond this world.

She will be married and taken away,
Salinizing these heavy thoughts in to my vein,  
Mother, it will be too soon; tell me about that day,
Will She make me cry again?

Masroor Ibnu Mawalidh

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