Place of Refuge

Place of Refuge

09 August 2010

Poetry by Ghalib (1797-1869)

I was reading
this poetry
today,
and I just had to share it:



(librarythinkquest  - interesting website)

If King Jamshid's diamond cup breaks that's it

If King Jamshid's diamond cup* breaks that's it,
But my clay cup I can easily replace, so it's better.
The delight of giving is deeper when the gift hasn't been demanded.
I like the God-seeker who doesn't make a profession of begging.

When I see God, color comes into my cheeks.
God thinks - this is a bad mistake - that I'm in good shape.

When a drop falls in the river, it becomes the river.
When a deed is done well, it becomes the future.

I know that Heaven doesn't exist, but the idea
is one of Ghalib's favorite fantasies.

(*King Jamshid was a legendary Persian ruler
who could see the future in his cup.)



(wave/sound - another fascinating site)

I'm neither the loosening of song

I'm neither the loosening of song nor the close-drawn tent of music;
I'm the sound, simply, of my own breaking.

You were meant to sit in the shade of your rippling hair;
I was made to look further, into a blacker tangle.

All my self possession is self delusion;
what violent effort, to maintain this nonchalance!

Now that you've come, let me touch you in greeting
as the forehead of the beggar touches the ground.

No wonder you came looking for me, you
who care for the grieving, and I the sound of grief.


(both by Ghalib)

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