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Ghani Khan

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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!
--
When Man Sits Down in Dust, l. 1-7

 
Ghani Khan

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I knew now, that it is by loving, and not by being loved, that one can come nearest the soul of another; yea, that, where two love, it is the loving of each other, and not the being loved by each other, that originates and perfects and assures their blessedness. I knew that love gives to him that loveth, power over any soul beloved, even if that soul know him not, bringing him inwardly close to that spirit; a power that cannot be but for good; for in proportion as selfishness intrudes, the love ceases, and the power which springs therefrom dies. Yet all love will, one day, meet with its return. All true love will, one day, behold its own image in the eyes of the beloved, and be humbly glad. This is possible in the realms of lofty Death.

 
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What is man’s life but love, love of self;
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God is Love. And Love must love. And to love there must be a Beloved. But since God is Existence infinite and eternal there is no one for Him to love but Himself. And in order to love Himself He must imagine Himself as the Beloved whom He as the Lover imagines He loves.

 
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The supreme style of love is unknown love. If the affection is known by the beloved, that love is snob. If you sacrifice your life for the beloved, and she recognises your love after you die, your soul would be appraised.

 
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The city's aflood
And our love turns to rust.
We're beaten and blown by the wind,
Trampled in dust.
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name.

 
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