Your bane, no less than boon

To my moans, misfortune you gave, And think, what a big boon you gave. On my forehead you wrote great ruin, And feel, immense fortune you gave. Melodious scores to all too soon, To me not but harsh tune you gave. To all silver of a full moon, To me nights of new moon you gave. A caterpillar in cocoon, T’me, no butterfly boon you gave. Yet, made me from sorrows immune, And a crown of sand dune you gave. Your dark nights made me man, not noon, Nor sunlight of June that you gave. _________________________ Ghazal |08.11.2024| boon, fortune, butterfly Poet’s note: Ask anyone. No one would say he has been fortunate to get what he deserved. Man by nature grumbles, no matter what. This ghazal seems to play the same tune, but not quite.