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The Wine Remaining Ghazal-34

The animation in the idol temple of ‘Ajam Does not match the great ardour of my heart, For with one glance Muhammad of Arabia Has conquered the Hijaz that is in me.

What shall I do? The wily intellect Has tied me up in knots. One glance, I pray. The motion of Your eye Perhaps will break its fiction’s spell.

The magic tricks of reason do not touch The fervour of a living heart. Forsake the temple of philosophy, And come into the sanctum of my heart.