Urdu Poet, Mirza Ghalib, 1797-1869
For the raindrop, joy is entering the river-
Unbearable pain becomes it's own cure
Travel far enough into sorrow, tears turn to sighing
In this way, we learn how water can die into air
When, after heavy rain, the storm clouds disperse
Is it not that they've wept themselves clear to the end?
If you want to know the miracle, how wind can polish a mirror
Look: The shining glass grows green in spring.
It's the rose's unfolding, Ghalib, that creates the desire to see-
In every color and circumstance, may the eyes be open
for what comes.
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