Mirza Ghalib

it's just a heart

It's just a heart, no stony shard; Why shouldn't it fill with pain? I will cry a thousand times, why should someone complain? Neither door nor threshold 'tis, no temple 'tis nor mosque, why should rivals bid me leave? The street's public domain. When she has a lustrous face, as bright as the sun at noon, a burning spectacle is she, why veiled does she remain? Dagger-like glances, arrow-like airs, fatal well could be, thus even from facing you, your image should refrain. Prison of life and sorrow's chains in truth are just the same, then relief form pain, ere death, why should man obtain. Beauty and its self-esteem did spare my rival shame, when she is self-confident, in testing him what gain? She won't call me to her house, by the wayside I can't meet, she is proud of name and grace, and I by from refrain. Let her a non-believer be, unfaithful too, and therefore if you value faith and heart, then from her street abstain. In poor Ghalib's absence say, what task are stopped today, then why shed such copious tears, why lament in vain.

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