The Ugly Painting Poem by Akhtar Jawad

Something is hidden in my heart,
I feel it but I cannot see,
I do not listen to it,
it's something abstract,
sometimes I think it's a wave of music,
that touches my whole body,
or it's aroma of a flower,
that makes my soul ecstatic,
and when my ecstasy makes me sleepy,
snoozing I dream something very beautiful.
So it's beauty!
The source of a river
and its name is love.
Millions of years have been passed,
Dear Beauty! Your repeated efforts;
to make me, too, beautiful like you;
could not succeed.
I am afraid being tired of me,
one day,
you may torn me into pieces.
Though it's not my fault,
why did you make me so much ugly?
Are you a nursery child,
who paints an ugly photo
and then his attempts to make it beautiful,
make it more and more ugly.
The child cuts a page of his note book,
and throws it in the waste paper basket,
paints another photo,
goes on painting,
photos after photos,
and when he reaches to a page,
half part of that was torn and thrown,
the child exclaims!
Alas! I have destroyed my best work,
and now I confess
it was better than my latter works,
he starts looking for the paper,
but many days have passed,
and that ugly painting is no more there.
could have seen beauty hidden in my heart,
is it anything else other than your love,
you would have been sleeping,
satisfied and content.
I may be ugly,
but I am a work of art,
I love you sweetheart!