Recent work
Mirza Ghalib, 100x170cm. Wool and lace on canvas. [2021]
"Stint not Tonight's Wine to provision a Vain Tomorrow
Will not Heaven's Saqi vint Hope's vaster Sorrow?
Tho' we know not, alas!, how durée's disgrace came to pass
Did not Angels bow to what from Dust we yet Borrow?
Why does life begin to leave us at rhapsody's first breath?
The viol's catgut too imprisons Passion's endless death.
The fleet steed of life full gallop then attains
When no foot is in the stirrup, nor hand upon the reins
Though I need to but rise to coincide with my essence
Frozen to the marrow by alterity's delusive presence
Seeing witness and witnessed and witnessing are One
Amazement is the maze which, with us, is never done.
The Ocean encompasses every wave of Existence
Here is but the foam's vain bubble of Persistence
Bashfulness is delightful tho' it but blush at its own.
How many are more naked for veiled 'fore the Throne?
From self-adornment's torment ne'er at leisure
The eye is a Mirror veiled to its own pleasure
Presence, we know, is hidden by the nothing it hides
Who wakes from a dream, over a dream yet presides.
Ghalib, your cup companion has a different scent today
Only the Father of Dust pours Wine of this bouquet."
Mirza Ghalib (1797-1868)"