There's one who took my heart away. <br />But does she own it? I can't say. <br /> <br />See her as unjust though I may, <br />Is she a tyrant? I can't say. <br /> <br />She strides a bloodless battlefield <br />Where there's no battle-axe to wield. <br /> <br />She keeps a wineless banquet-hall <br />Where there's no bowl to raise at all. <br /> <br />Although she serves wine ceaselessly, <br />Her fingers bring no cup to me. <br /> <br />Her idol-carving hand is sure, <br />But you cannot call her Azer <br /> <br />When riots quiet down, why must <br />You brag of ousting the unjust? <br /> <br />There will be nothing you can say <br />Of the unjust on Judgment Day. <br /> <br />Within the breast the secret lies <br />Which none can ever sermonize. <br /> <br />How strange a thing it is that throws <br />The mind askew till no one knows <br /> <br />How I Ghalib am no believer <br />But can't be called unfaithful either. <br /> <br /><b>Note: </b> <br />Azer: in the Islamic tradition, Abraham's father who manufactured and served Nimrod's idols. Known as Terah in the Judeo-Christian tradition. <br /> <br />[Trasnlated from Persian ]<br /><br />Mirza Ghalib<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-cannot-be-said/
