Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2012 v11n1
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 اُردُو
back GHALIB
translation from the Urdu by M. Shahid Alam

[You stopped just short of the highest note.]

You stopped just short of the highest note.
Read past the signs crowding your page.

I prepare for pain when I start my day.
When she awakes, the world is her stage.

When he stirs her fancy, I spell despair.
Quick, her eyelashes can work up a rage.

It’s spring! There’s a sting in old wounds.
Love tightens her grip: youth vexes age.

A hundred loves lie buried in your heart.
Ghalib, why dig this quarry? You are a sage.  end  


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