What do you think?
Rate this book


Paperback
Published January 1, 2018
2
Except for Qais, no one entered the field of action—
Perhaps the desert had narrowed like a jealous eye.
Distractedness fixed a black spot in the heart.
Clearly, the burnt-out scar was mostly smoke.
In a dream, my mind did business with you—
When my eyes opened, there was neither profit nor loss.
I still take lessons in the school of grief of the heart.
But only that “went” went, and “was” was.
The shroud covered the shame of my nakedness.
Otherwise, in every attire I was a disgrace to life.
Without an axe Kohkan couldn’t die, Asad—
He was dizzy from a hangover of customs and rules.
Either the world is a spellbound city of the silent,
Or I’m a stranger in the land of speech and hearing.
...
5
Although it’s hard enough for every task to be easy,
Not even humans can manage to be humane.
24
...
Shouldn’t I wait for death—since it can’t stand not to come?
Should I desire you—when if you don’t come, you can’t be called?
A burden has fallen from my head that even if lifted, wouldn’t be lifted.
A task has confronted me that even if done, wouldn’t be done.
There’s no power over passion—it’s that fire, Ghalib,
That if lit, wouldn’t burn; and if extinguished, wouldn’t go out.