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).