Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter - and the Bird is on the Wing.
From 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.
From The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot:
| LET us go then, you and I, | |
| When the evening is spread out against the sky | |
| Like a patient etherised upon a table; | |
| Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, | |
| The muttering retreats | 5 |
| Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels | |
| And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: | |
| Streets that follow like a tedious argument | |
| Of insidious intent | |
| To lead you to an overwhelming question … | 10 |
| Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” | |
| Let us go and make our visit. |
