Before You Came
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
translated by Agha Shahid Ali
Before you came, things were as they should be: the sky was the dead-end of sight, the road was just a road, wine merely wine. Now everything is like my heart, a color at the edge of blood: the grey of your absence, the color of poison, of thorns, the gold when we meet, the season ablaze, the yellow of autumn, the red of flowers, of flames, and the black when you cover the earth with the coal of dead fires. And the sky, the road, the glass of wine? The sky is a shirt wet with tears, the road a vein about to break, and the glass of wine a mirror in which the sky, the road, the world keep changing. Don’t leave now that you’re here— Stay. So the world may become like itself again: so the sky may be the sky, the road a road, and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine.
First Published in The Rebel’s Silhouette (1991)





In the eye of the beholder, my dears, in the eyes of the beholder. Bless us all for having so many eyes, and so many different eyes. And there is less than no need to blind even one. God bless our dissonance, for when attended as notes as individual eyes, the harmony is heard, is visible. Bless our I's, bless our eyes, bless our ears, our heres, our theres, and the space that makes room for it all.
https://nabeelismail.substack.com/p/the-debt-of-ashes-662?r=7w398i&utm_medium=ios