Mirza Ghalib
(Selected poetry)
Although love’s pangs may fatal be,
There can for man be no way out;
Without love too this heart would grieve
For want of things to grieve about.
(transl. H.C. Saraswat)
Love is a strange captivity;
The lover, though fettered, cannot rest.
And so it comes about that I
am restless though in chains I be,
as [...]
