However large earth’s garden, mine’s enough.
One rose and the shade of a vine’s enough.
I don’t want more wealth, I don’t need more dross.
The grape has its bloom and it shines enough.
Why ask for the moon? The moon’s in your cup,
a beggar, a tramp, for whom wine’s enough.
Look at the stream as it winds out of sight.
One glance, one glimpse of a chine’s enough.
Like the sun in bazaars, streaming in shafts,
any slant on the grand design’s enough.
When you’re here, my love, what more could I want?
Just mentioning love in a line’s enough.
Heaven can wait. To have found, heaven knows,
a bed and a roof so divine’s enough.
I’ve no grounds for complaint. As Hafez says,
isn’t a ghazal that he signs enough?
by Mimi Kahlvati
from The Meanest Flower
publisher: Carcanet, Manchester, 2007