The Wine Remaining Ghazal-39
We are mere dust, but planet like We swiftly move, And seek the shore Of this blue sea.
We owe our being to A single flame of life; But, from the joy of selfhood, we Are split up as so many sparks.
O tell the creatures of light this: That by dint of the intellect We creatures of dust ride The stars.
In love we are Buds shaking in the morning breeze; But in the business of life we Are quite as hard as granite.
Like the narcissus we Have grown eyes in this garden. O lift the veil that hides Your face; We are all eyes for You.