I know that each one of us travels to love alone,
alone to faith and to death.
When preparing to lower yourself into a well,
first send down a candle. They breathe air like men.
I dream about the war. Almost every night.
Or sometimes that I have misplaced my child.
Learn to walk as if you had a different history.
Toes unpointed. A hand that never knew a knife.
There is a wildness in God’s mercy,
I misread the hymnal. Think of hawks.
I am preoccupied with angels.
Their pulse and fur. Their eyes on me.
________________
Those lines are from the famous but atypical "Moonlight Sonota."
I know that each one of us travels to love alone,
alone to faith and to death.
I know it. I’ve tried it. It doesn’t help.
Let me come with you.
If that's all the Ritsos you've ever come across read these too.
My only complaint about your ghazals so far is I wish you'd post more of them! It's a great form. I'm trying to remember who else I was reading lately who wrote a bunch of ghazals - Jim Harrison, maybe?