|
|
Ghazal 17 Like a child or flower that shares a sorrow you bowed to the lightlessness of my grief Love is a secret for you not secret enough wearing a veil of dust to silence them all Promises from the center of love are now under dust your friendship even the nature of love under dust An ear that hears nothing an eye that sees nothing a heart that is now a heart that bleeds nothing This love my love had not yet become madness under dust also my yearning for infamy |