Last poetry magazine

Had a translation by a Persian and Urdu poet, Ghalib, that I found quite beautiful and provocative. I immediately thought of those passages in the Song of Solomon that describe the lover wandering the city in search of her beloved. This type of poem, the ghazal, is ambiguously about God or a human lover - both should be held in tension.
Here I offer a selection from Russell's book on Ghalib.

"last night when I prepared to pray there came into my ears
A warning spoken from the cloak I wore upon my back

"You, a mere straw burnt in the fire of the muezzin's voice
Paule! Do not give your eager heart to these activities
You cannot put your trust in scholars or in worshippers
One vainly prattles on, the other labours vainly on

Words, words are all the stock in trade of this
censorious tribe
Mere colour is the way of those who wear the
dark blue cloak

So leave the highway, roam the wastes, and as you
journey on
Shun all the hidden snares of wine and love; remain
aware

Rapt beauty offers easy kisses? mind you do not take them
Wine-sellers offer their wine cheap? Then do not buy
from them

The song, "do not obey the law, and do not live
austerely"
The warning voice, "do not disgrace yourself. Do not drink wine"

All these "do nots" amount to only this, Forego your
being
We have no ttale to tell you, you no tale to listen to"

I empty-handed (for I had not earned the wage of
worship)
Said (heart rich with the wealth bestowed on me from
the unseen)

How shall I turn my face from colour to transparency?
"Where must I go?" The voice said, "Hide yourself from
your own gaze"

I leapt up, but with wit and wisdom going on before me
I left myself, but knowledge, action, kept me company

I came to an assembly where I saw, both in one moment
Today's wine being poured, the blood-drenched
sleep of yesterday

A hermitage all radiance, whence abstinence was bansihed
A hall all sweet spring water, full of kisses, full of wine

That hall the secret dwelling place of her who gave it beauty
Who welcomes turmoil, looks up to the sky with open arms

A sun, imparting radiance to every glittering atom
a saki drunk with wine, intoxicating all the world

Colours sprung from transparency, such that no eye can see them
Secrets that only silence speaks, such as no ear can hear

No drop falls from the vat that holds a thousand colours in it
One vat all filled with surging colours, mouth securely sealed

God can be felt entire; the mind can comprehend the world
Ghalib be silent now. This is a song no voice can sing"

This is a wonderful, wise poet. He loves wine and poetry - one almost thinks theology as well - though he is leary of what peole do with religion. He sees faithfulness to the end as a mark of authentic spirituality, regardless of who practices it, infidel or believer. Russell has also translated many of Ghalib's letters: letters that are blunt and filled with wit.