Let the ascetics sing of the garden of Paradise --
We who dwell in the true ecstasy can forget their vase-tamed bouquet.
In our hall of mirrors, the map of the one Face appears
As the sun's splendor would spangle a world made of dew.
Hidden in this image is also its end,
As peasants' lives harbor revolt and unthreshed corn sparks with fire.
Hidden in my silence are a thousand abandoned longings:
My words the darkened oil lamp on a stranger's unspeaking grave.
Ghalib, the road of change is before you always:
The only line stitching this world's scattered parts.
Let The Ascetics Sing Of The Garden Of Paradise --
Mirza Ghalib
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Poem topics: change, fire, silence, sun, face, garden, lamp, stranger, paradise, forget, true, grave, world, I love you, I miss you, hidden, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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