Thanks for the welcome and the question Mike. The ghazal in Persian (and Arabic, Turkish and Urdu) is so different a form from anything traditional in English that it's quite tricky to say what it should be like in its English incarnation, supposing it has to have one. Some poets have concentratd on its usual content, which is often similar to the "usual" Petrarchan love sonnet content - love of an absent or indifferent beloved. As this content is fairly common in a number of poetries there's nothing in English particularly to tie it to the ghazal. In form the poem (in the languages in which it is common) is as follows: it has monorhyme throughout: the lines are very long (typically about 24 syllables: the meter and syllable count are the same from line to line of course), and divide in the middle (usually each line is printed as two lines in English). The first line rhymes internally at the half way point and at the end; all other lines only rhyme at the end. If each line is printed as two lines in English the rhyme scheme looks to be: a, a, b, a c, a, d, a, e, a, . .. etc. Ghazals are rarely shorter than 6 lines and rarely longer than about 20 lines. Still finding even 6 rhymes in English (7 actually as the first line rhymes internally) is pretty tricky, so the form is almost impossible to reproduce exactly in English. So poets tend to make their own compromises.
The closest I've written to a ghazal in English is the following poem (but I did not rhyme internally on the first line, so it's not a real ghazal, and this is about fulfileld not unrequited love - a possible but not common subject for a ghazal):
A Monorhyme for Miscegenation
(For Yass Amir-Ebrahimi and Stuart Benis)
We all know what our elders warned
In their admonitory drone,
"Water and oil won't mix my child -
Play safe, stick staunchly to your own".
And I concede they're half right when
I think of all the pairs I've known
(Black/White, Jew/Gentile, Moslem/Me -
The home-raised with the foreign-grown)
Mixed marriages, it's true, can make,
Two lives a dire disaster zone.
But only half: since when they work
(As my luck, and my friends', has shown)
Their intricate accommodations
Make them impossible to clone:
For gross, gemütlich kindness, for
Love's larky, lively undertone,
For all desired and decent virtues
They stand astonished and alone.
I've also trnaslated a ghazal by the 14th century female poet Jahan Khatun, trying to keep the form. Here is that (not very successful I think) effort:
I know you think that there are other friends for me than you:
Not so.
And that apart from loving you I've other things to do:
Not so.
Beloved, out of pity, take my hand before I fall,
You think the world can give me other loves to cling on to?
Not so.
You strike me like a harp, play on me like a flute - and now
You say that others strike me, play on me, in this way too?
Not so.
Your eyes are languorous and rob my wakeful eyes of sleep,
Are any curls as wild as yours, as lovely and untrue?
Not so.
You say my heart has not been hurt by your disdain. It has.
Has any ever suffered love’s despair as I do now for you?
Not so.
You have so many slaves, all finer than I am, I know -
But can you point to one more wretched in your retinue?
Not so.
Adding a phrase (here"Not so") after the rhyme is typical of some Persian gahzals, but is not a necessary feature of the form.
I hope this is of some use.
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