Ghazal Of Mira
The lover to his lass: I have fallen before your door. I came to ask for alms and have lost my all, I had a copper-shod quarter-staff but the dogs attacked me, And not a strand of her hair came the way of my lips. The lover to his lass: I have fallen before your door. The lamp burns and I must play the green moth. I have stolen her scented rope of flowers, But the women caught me and built a little gaol About my heart with your old playthings. The lover to his lass: I have fallen before your door. Mira is a mountain goat that climbs to die Upon the top peak in the rocks of grief; It is the hour; make haste. The lover to his lass: I have fallen before your door. From the Pus'hto (Afghans, nineteenth century).
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"The lover to his lass: I have fallen before your door...."
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