I walk in the street,
My head upwards in conceit,
I look around to see,
a man sitting beneath a gum tree,
scruffy looking with torn clothes,
mumbling something under his nose,
'For sale, For Sale, Here, for sale is Paradise'
I look around, and see no one in the shadows,
As the sun continues to rise.
He looks at me and says,
'this is one chance, never to come again'
I think to myself, 'from this craziness I better abstain'
His name is Bahlool and he is know as majnun.
What will be the reaction to meeting Bahlool?
A man who pretends to be crazy,
On the orders from imam a ج, a command that is hazy,
Yet he follows the orders to a T.
I hear people calling him crazy,
yet I know, he thinks of me the same way.
How you ask? I am perfectly sane,
Bahlool would look at me and say,
"Mahjabeen, you are crazy about the duniya again,
Is there a more delusional and destructive thing such as it?
Yet, they call me insane, unaware that this is the domain,
Of God Almighty! Where can I even begin to explain!"
I am once again dumbfounded by this realisation,
That the world is but a temptation,
blinded by it would lead nothing,
and definitely not what people look for - liberation.
