Tonight
Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar
—Laurence Hope
Where are you now? Who lies
beneath your spell tonight?
Whom else from rapture’s
road will you expel tonight?
Those “Fabrics of Cashmere—”
“to make Me beautiful—”
“Trinket”—to gem—“Me to
adorn—How tell”—tonight?
I beg for haven: Prisons,
let open your gates—
A refugee from Belief seeks
a cell tonight.
God’s vintage loneliness
has turned to vinegar—
All the archangels—their
wings frozen—fell tonight.
Lord, cried out the
idols, Don’t let us be broken;
Only we can convert the infidel
tonight.
Mughal ceilings, let your
mirrored convexities
multiply me at once under
your spell tonight.
He’s freed some fire from
ice in pity for Heaven.
He’s left open—for God—the
doors of Hell tonight.
In the heart’s veined
temple, all statues have been smashed.
No priest in saffron’s left
to toll its knell tonight.
God, limit these
punishments, there’s still Judgment Day—
I’m a mere sinner, I’m no
infidel tonight.
Executioners near the woman
at the window.
Damn you, Elijah, I’ll bless
Jezebel tonight.
The hunt is over, and I
hear the Call to Prayer
fade into that of the
wounded gazelle tonight.
My rivals for your
love—you’ve invited them all?
This is mere insult, this
is no farewell tonight.
And I, Shahid, only am escaped
to tell thee—
God sobs in my arms. Call me Ishmael tonight.Source of the text - Agha Shahid Ali, Call Me Ishmael Tonight: A Book of Ghazals. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2003, p. 82-83.
TJB: 13 quips on faith and/or love. With juxtaposition & sharp metaphors, this ghazal gently celebrates itself, with a perfect ending on Ishmael.
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