I'll read one more ghazal because they're fun to read.
This one came from a, once again,
all the couplets go all over the place.
But it came from a quote from the Urdu poet
Faiz Ahmad Faiz, whom I did not read in Urdu, only
in translation.
Who said that poetry was what was left
after the loss of the beloved.
''Lines that grapple doubt, written because of the beloved.
When grief subsides, what survives
the loss of the beloved.
Your every declaration is suspect,
that was at least the departing gloss of the beloved.
Were you merely a servant of the state?
Or now you give the coin a toss of the beloved.
How pure you were, resistant in an orchard.
Peace with justice, the cause of the beloved.
A scent of hyacinth clings to your fingers
of sap from a broken leaf, of moss, of the beloved.
Ambiguous predators howl within earshot.
You would like to curl up between the paws
of the beloved.
Now uniform cite scripture to erase you,
only rabble and vermin die under the laws of the beloved.
Who signed the warrant that sealed you
in this cell, who read your messages,
who was the boss of the beloved?
How pure you were, how abject you are now,
waterboarded after the double-cross of the beloved.
You are promised release on the recognizance,
will this be a redemptive clause of the beloved?''