Mir-ly adequate

Okay, okay, so I know it's been two months since Szerelem asked me to do a Mir translation and I said I would, but these things take time, you know, especially when you forget all about them.

Anyway, here goes. I'm not entirely happy with the translation, but it'll have to do for now. You can read the original here and a slightly shortened version (with an alternate translation by K.C. Kanda) here. You can also see a video clip of Mehdi Hassan singing this ghazal on Youtube. I've skipped on couplet of the original because it didn't really make sense to me, and I haven't really stuck too closely to the literal meaning, so it's more a transcreation than a translation, but what the hell:

Look at the heart, see where it rises.
See how it comes upon us, like smoke.

Whose ashen grave is this? This sky
from which a flame daily rises.

These ruined chambers of my heart,
this house you must never leave.

When lamentation tugs at me,
a great roar rises, fills the air;

a dust of confusion rises
where your eyes engage my grief.

Where shall he find rest again?
The man who rises, leaves your door?

When I left your street it was as though
I chose to abandon the world.

Love, Mir, is a heavy stone.
Who can rise from under its weight?

- Mir Taqi Mir