Those who know are always drunk on the wine of the Self

[Guest guest]

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The colors of tulips and roses are not the same,

Yet in each we assent to the single Spring.

 

We turn our hands to the sketchbook only for Love:

Needing some pretext for meeting.

 

What sorry man drinks for pleasure?

Night and day, I raise oblivion¹s glass.

 

In the hour of forgetfulness, the head lies by the wine-jar;

In the hour of prayer, the face turns to the Call.

 

Let me be clear: however the world¹s goblet turns,

Those who know are always drunk on the wine of the Self.

 

- Ghalib

 

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" The Enlightened Heart "

An Anthology of Sacred Poetry

Edited by Stephen Mitchell

Harper & Row, New York , 1989

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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