“What is man’s life but love, love of self;Man is dust, dust as his passion, dust as the beloved.Death, it is your great act of piety for man –You take him to your house or he’d be left to himself.Death is a covenant between the lover and the beloved;Death is a secret wedlock between being and non-being.Death harbors the hidden port of life’s ocean;Death is helpless and a vision of beauty to itself.Death is the only witness of my life and your grace,And O strange lord, of night and the crescent.”Ghani Khan Death, st. 8-12
“Manhood stands tall and high, and becomes madness;The self takes leave of being and becomes ecstasy.When iron sated with blood embraces love,It turns into a bewildered sitar string.When time robs man of love and the loved one,He sees the beloved’s glory and his own.How man sprouts when he sits down in dust!”Ghani Khan When Man Sits Down in Dust, l. 1-7
“But death blinds you, unaware of man’s fall –An autumn that steals the flower from the flower peddler.Death is testimony of god’s love and mercy for man –A promise made between autumn and spring.”Ghani Khan Death, st. 3-4