From this cup of my lips comes a song;
It captures my singing soul, my song.
That in my words is the meaning of ecstasy,
That dies my happiness into grief, my song.
If you see that my eyes say a word,
Then take it as my forgetfulness, my song.
Do not ask of love, O it tells me of you;
My words of love speak of death, my song.
His hope, like flowers, I desire.
No drop of my eyes is enough, my song.
The daughter of this place sings qasida, a ghazal,
But what spoils her strange verses, my song?
O the gardener does not understand my happiness;
O do not ask for many looks of my youth, my song.
From these hands, these feet and words, it looks strange
That my name is written on the slate of this age, my song.
Outstanding, so sad to know that she is no more with us.............Liked it....10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good narration of Ghazal, Beautiful.