All English Sonnets
ON THE GHALIB – century celebrations
I, to such celebrations, so unused,
Stand rooted to one spot, my habitual way
Of listening to adulations. Much abused
And sullied was dear Ghalib in his day
For unpaid debts and for his drinking cup,
For flights of wingless poesy, beyond grasp
Of shallow minds. With wonder, but set up
All those who understand. In wonder gasp
At intricacies of his simple style
In prose and verse. But what a shameful curse
Is this that these revellers , all the while
unheeding sing his praises, not the verse.
My own reply was this to all I heard,
Forget the praises, let us read his word.