Since love first made the breast an instrument
Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart
Was molten to a mirror, like a rose
I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang
This mirror in your sight
Gaze you therein

Author: Muhammad Iqbal

Since love first made the breast an instrument<br />Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart<br />Was molten to a mirror, like a rose<br />I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang<br />This mirror in your sight<br />Gaze you therein - Muhammad Iqbal

©gutesprueche.com

Data privacy

Imprint
Contact
Wir benutzen Cookies

Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.

OK Ich lehne Cookies ab