Ghazal-03

O dejected nightingale your lament is immature still You should hold it in your breast for a little while still

If Intellect is prudent it is considered mature If Love is prudent it is considered immature still

Love fearlessly jumped into the fire of Namrud Intellect is absorbed in the spectacle from roof-top still

Love moves fast in action under the messenger’s precept Intellect has not even understood the Love’s message still

The way of Love is freedom and world revolution You are imprisoned in day and night’s temple still

On the plea of temperance the cup-bearer says rudely In your heart is the same anxiety for the end still

Constant struggle is the measure for life’s Kamm and Kaif Your measure is the counting of days and nights still

O spring rain! How long this miserliness? The tulips of my hillside are thirsty still

They are accustomed to `Ajam’s wine I have the `Arab wine My cup makes wine‐drinkers startled still

Zepheyr has brought news about Iqbal from the garden The newly seized is writhing under the net still.