Ghani Khan

Manhood stands tall and high, and becomes madness;How man sprouts when he sits down in dust!

— Ghani Khan

Death, go somewhere, get lost! I’m not done as yet –Joy still flows from the amphora of colors into my cupped hands.

— Ghani Khan

But death blinds you, unaware of man’s fall –A promise made between autumn and spring.

— Ghani Khan