Let the ascetics sing of the garden of Paradise -- <br />We who dwell in the true ecstasy can forget their vase-tamed bouquet. <br /> <br />In our hall of mirrors, the map of the one Face appears <br />As the sun's splendor would spangle a world made of dew. <br /> <br />Hidden in this image is also its end, <br />As peasants' lives harbor revolt and unthreshed corn sparks with fire. <br /> <br />Hidden in my silence are a thousand abandoned longings: <br />My words the darkened oil lamp on a stranger's unspeaking grave. <br /> <br />Ghalib, the road of change is before you always: <br />The only line stitching this world's scattered parts.<br /><br />Mirza Ghalib<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/let-the-ascetics-sing-of-the-garden-of-paradise/
