LOVE
It is right, I killed myself.
I couldn’t live in refugee places,
My companion the soul to sorrows,
It was living in love – on the moon.
I am a pandhandler for myself,
A lover occupied with my own soul.
What can I think about more?
Eventually, thousands of lovers are slaves to me.
Lastly, thousands of lovers are slaves to me.
What can I think about more?
After all, the sense that engraved my name on the stone
Is loyal to me.
-- tr. Asror Allayarov from "The Gate Opened by Angels"
Frieze on Colonna Traiana -- Apollodorus of Damascus
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