The Wine Remaining Ghazal-03
Our thought is constantly engaged In fashioning new gods. Released from one bond, it Entangles itself in another.
Come to the roof top and remove Unhesitatingly Your face’s veil. There is nobody in Your street More eager to see You than I.
I am so jealous of The seeing power of my eyes That I weave with my sight One more veil for Your face.
One look, one flitting smile, One shining tear— Other than these there is No pledge of love.
I am proud of my love, which with The grief of separation forged Another bond of pain Connecting You and me.
In order that your song, O bird of spring, May be more lively, take A little more fire from The sanctuary of my heart.
The harp of the Timurids broke: Its music is alive. It burst forth from Another instrument of Samarkand.
Custodian of the Harem, Do not admit Iqbal; For he has up his sleeve New idols every day.