Her blinding loveliness!

No rest is for my heart by love tormented,
It cannot even win the peace of death;
How long shall it endure with resignation
The pain it suffereth!

Like shifting shadows come the great and mighty,
And live their splendid day, and hurry past;
And who can tell how long the changing pageant
Of fleeting life shall last!

O look on me, unhappy Asif, driven
As dust before the wind across the street;
How long has Love ordained that I should suffer
Beneath the passing feet.

GHALIB.




XXIV.

THE WIDOW.


I call on Death, for Life is my distress,
And I myself a load of weariness
Weighing upon myself. Helpless am I;