Dekh to dil

This is the translation of a beautiful Mir poem by that learned man, Falstaff. The ghazal is also on youtube.

Look at the heart, see where it rises.
See how it comes upon us, like smoke.

Whose ashen grave is this? This sky
from which a flame daily rises.

These ruined chambers of my heart,
this house you must never leave.

When lamentation tugs at me,
a great roar rises, fills the air;

a dust of confusion rises
where your eyes engage my grief.

Where shall he find rest again?
The man who rises, leaves your door?

When I left your street it was as though
I chose to abandon the world.

Love, Mir, is a heavy stone.
Who can rise from under its weight?

What would I do without Mir?

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About purplesque

Psychiatrist, cook, bookworm, photographer. Not necessarily in that order.
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