Islam Mystic Poet
Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan Ghalib
Islam Mystic Poet
Heart it is, not a brick or stone
Why shouldn't it feel the pain?
Let none tyrannize this heart
Or I shall cry again and again
Neither the temple, nor the mosque
Nor on someone's door or porch
I await on the path where He will tread
Why others should compel me to go?
The illumined grace that lights up the heart
And glows like the midday sun
That Self that annihilates all sights
When then it hides in the mysterious net?
The amorous glance is the deadly dagger
And the arrows of emotions are fatal
Your image may be equally powerful
Why should it appear before you?
The rules of life and bonds of sorrow
In reality are the one manifestation
Before realizing the ultimate truth
How can then one attain liberation?
Love is laden with noble thoughts
Yet what remains is the carnal shame
Trust conscience the still little voice
Why do you want test the rival?
There the pride of modesty resides
Here dwells the social morality
How shall we meet, on which road
Why should he invite me to the abode?
True he is an atheist
Unfaithful and unchaste
Dear to who is faith and heart
Why should he then venture there?
Without the wretched 'Ghalib'
Has any activity come to a halt?
What then is the need to cry?
What then is the need to brood?
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.
(You say) It is not love, it is madness.
My madness may be the cause of your fame.
Sever not my relationship with you.
If nothing then be my enemy.
What is the meaning of notoriety in meeting me if not in public court meet me alone.
I am not my own enemy.
So what if the stranger is in love with you.
Whatever you are, it is due to your own being.
If this not known then it is ignorance.
Life though fleets like a lightening flash.
Yet it is abundant Time to be in love.
I do not want debate on the sustenance of love.
Be it not love but another dilemma.
Give something O biased One.
At least the sanction to cry and plea.
I will perpetuate the rituals even if cruelty be your habit.
Teasing and cajoling the beloved cannot leave 'Asad' even if there is no union and only the desire remains.
Innocent heart, what has happened to you?
Alas, what is the cure to this pain?
We are interested, and they are displeased,
Oh Lord, what is this affair?
I too possess a tongue-
just ask me what I want to say.
Though there is none present without you,
then oh God, what is this noise about?
I expected faith from those
who do not even know what faith is.
Come that my soul has no repose has no strength to bear the injustice of waiting,
Heaven is given in return for the life of this world but that high is not in proportion to this intoxication.
Such longing has come from your company that there is no control over my tears.
Suspecting torment, you are indifferent to me so no love resides in these clouds of dust.
From my heart has lifted the meaning of pleasure without blossoms, there is no spring in life.
You have pledged to kill me at last but there is no determination in your promise.
You have sworn by the wine, Ghalib.
There is no faith in your avowal.
Whoever can't see the whole in every part plays at blind man's bluff. A wise man tastes the entire Tigris in every sip
It is easy to be human, very hard to be humane.
This world is nothing more than Beauty’s chance to show Herself. And what are we? Nothing more than Beauty’s chance to see Herself. For if Beauty were not seeking Herself we would not exist.
My yearning has loosened the veil hiding Beauty. She is now mine - but alas, my own sight is there blocking the view. The beat of my own heart sounds in my ear. The wish to live as others do has long been silenced. What does their world have to offer? Nothing but the echo of voices yelling, “more, more.”