|
|
| Persian Poetry | Translation |
|
Kafir-e-ishqam musalmani
mara darkaar neest Har rag-e mun taar gashta hajat-e zunnaar neest; Az sar-e baaleen-e mun bar khez ay naadaan tabeeb Dard mand-e ishq ra daroo bajuz deedaar neest; Nakhuda dar kashti-e maagar nabashad go mubaash Makhuda daareem mara nakhuda darkaar neest; Khalq mi goyad ki Khusrau but parasti mi kunad Aarey aarey mi kunam ba khalq mara kaar neest. |
I am a pagan and a worshipper of love:
the creed (of Muslims) I do not need; Every vein of mine has become taunt like a wire, the (Brahman’s) girdle I do not need. Leave from my bedside, you ignorant physician! The only cure for the patient of love is the sight of his beloved – other than this no medicine does he need. If there be no pilot in our boat, let there be none: We have god in our midst: the sea we do not need. The people of the world say that Khusrau worships idols. So he does, so he does; the people he does not need, the world he does not need. |
|
I wonder what was the place where I was
last night, All around me were half-slaughtered victims of love, tossing about in agony. There was a nymph-like beloved with cypress- like form and tulip-like face, Ruthlessly playing havoc with the hearts of the lovers. God himself was the master of ceremonies in that heavenly court, oh Khusrau, where (the face of) the Prophet too was shedding light like a candle. |
|
Khabaram raseed imshab ki
nigaar khuahi aamad; Sar-e man fidaa-e raah-e ki sawaar khuahi aamad. Ham-e aahwan-e sehra sar-e khud nihada bar kaf; Ba-umeed aanki rozi bashikaar khuahi aamad. Kashishi ki ishq daarad naguzaradat badinsaa; Ba-janazah gar nayai ba-mazaar khuahi aamad. Balabam raseed jaanam fabiya ki zindah maanam; Pas azan ki man na-maanam bacha kar khuahi aaamad. |
Tonight there came a news that you, oh
beloved, would come – Be my head sacrificed to the road along which you will come riding! All the gazelles of the desert have put their heads on their hands In the hope that one day you will come to hunt them…. The attraction of love won’t leave you unmoved; Should you not come to my funeral, you’ll definitely come to my grave. My soul has come on my lips (e.g. I am on the point of expiring); Come so that I may remain alive - After I am no longer – for what purpose will you come? |
|
Bakhubi hamcho mah tabindah
baashi; Bamulk-e dilbari paayindah baashi. Man-e darvish ra kushti baghamzah; Karam kardi Ilahi zindah baashi. Jafaa kam kun ki farda roz-e mehshar; Baru-e aashiqan sharmindah baashi. Ze qaid-e dojahan azad baasham; Agar tu hum-nashin-e bandah baashi. Barindi-o bashokhi hamcho Khusrau; Hazaran khanuman barkandah baashi. |
|
|
Ay chehra-e zeba-e tu rashk-e
butan-e azari; Har chand wasfat mikunam dar husn-az-aan zebatari. Aafaq ra gar deedah am mehr-e butan warzeedah am; Bisyar khuban deedah am lekin tu cheez-e degari. Man tu shudam, tu man shudi, man tan shudam, tu jan shudi; Taakas nagoyad baad azeen man deegaram tu deegari. Khusrau ghareeb ast-o gada uftadah dar shehr-e shuma; Baashad ki az behr-e khuda, su-e ghareeban bangari. |
O you whose beautiful face is the envy of
the idols of Azar (Abraham's father and famous idol maker); You remain superior to my praise. All over the world have I traveled; many a maiden’s love have I tasted; Many a beauty-star have I seen; but you are something unique. I have become you, and you me; I have become the body, you the soul; So that none hereafter may say that “I am someone and you someone else.” Khusrau a beggar, a stranger has come wandering to your town; For the sake of god, have pity on this beggar and do not turn him away from your door. |
|
Do not overlook my misery by blandishing
your eyes, and weaving tales; My patience has over-brimmed, O sweetheart, why do you not take me to your bosom. Long like curls in the night of separation, short like life on the day of our union; My dear, how will I pass the dark dungeon night without your face before. Suddenly, using a thousand tricks, the enchanting eyes robbed me of my tranquil mind; Who would care to go and report this matter to my darling? Tossed and bewildered, like a flickering candle, I roam about in the fire of love; Sleepless eyes, restless body, neither comes she, nor any message. In honour of the day I meet my beloved who has lured me so long, O Khusrau; I shall keep my heart suppressed, if ever I get a chance to get to her trick. |
|
Jan zatan burdi wa darjani
hunooz; Dard-ha daadi wa darmani hunooz. Aashkara seen-e am bashugaafti; Hamchunan dar seen-e pinhani hunooz. Ma za girya chun namak bagudakhtim; Tu bakhunda shukr afshani hunooz. |
You carried the soul from (my) body – and
yet, You are still in the soul; You have given pains – and are still the remedy; Openly you split my breast – Yet, you are still hidden in my heart. You have destroyed the kingdom of my heart With the sword of coquetry, And are still a ruler in that place…. |
|
Abr mi barad-o man shovm-e
az yar-e judaa Choon kunam dil becheneen roz zedildar judaa. Abr baraan wa man-o yar satadah ba-widaa’ Man judaa girya kunaan, abr judaa, yaar judaa |
The cloud weeps, and I become separated
from my friend - How can I separate my heart from my heart’s friend on such a day. The cloud weeping – and I and the friend standing, bidding farewell I weeping separately, the clouds separately, the friend separately….. |
|
Khabaram
raseed imshab ki nigaar khuahi aamad; Sar-e man fidaa-e raah-e ki sawaar khuahi aamad. Ham-e aahwan-e sehra sar-e khud nihada bar kaf; Ba-umeed aanki rozi bashikaar khuahi aamad. Kashishi ki ishq daarad naguzaradat badinsaa; Ba-janazah gar nayai ba-mazaar khuahi aamad. Balabam raseed jaanam fabiya ki zindah maanam; Pasazan ki man na-maanam bacha kar khuahi aaamad. |
Tonight there came a news that you, oh
beloved, would come – Be my head sacrificed to the road along which you will come riding! All the gazelles of the desert have put their heads on their hands In the hope that one day you will come to hunt them…. The attraction of love won’t leave you unmoved; Should you not come to my funeral, you’ll definitely come to my grave. My soul has come on my lips (e.g. I am on the point of expiring); Come so that I may remain alive - After I am no longer – for what purpose will you come? |
|
(Dhamal could be a song or a musical genre that aroused ecstasy amongst the sufis. It was usually performed at special occasions such as Basant.) |
|
|
Hajrat khaja sung khailiye
dhamal, Hajrat khaja sung....... Baais khaja mil bun bun aaye, Taamay hajrat Rasool saheb-e jamaal Hajrat khaja sung khailiye....... Arab yaar tori basant manaayo, Sadaa rakhiyo laal gulaal..... Hajrat khaja sung khailiye dhamal. |
Let us play Dhamal with Hazrat Khwaja, All dresses up, the twenty two saints have come, So let us play Dhamal; Give respect to our exalted Hazrat Rasool. We celebrate spring for you, Oh Arab friend. (This Arab friend is not meant for the Prophet) Keep the colourful spirit alive for ever. Let us play Dhamal with Hazrat Khwaja. |
|
Sakal bun (or Saghan bhun)
phool rahi sarson, Sakal bun phool rahi..... Umbva phutay, tesu phulay, koyal bolay daar daar, Aur gori karat singaar, Malaniyan gadhwa lay aayin karson, Sakal bun phool rahi..... Tarah tarah kay phool lagaaye, Lay gadhwa haathan mein aaye. Nijamudin kay darwazay par, Aawan keh gaye aashaq rung, Aur beet gaye barson. Sakal bun phool rahi sarson. |
The yellow mustard is blooming in every
field, Mango buds are clicking open, other flowers too; The koyal chirps from branch to branch, And the maiden tries her make-up, The gardener-girls have brought bouquets. Colourful flowers of all kinds, In hands everyone’s bringing; But Aashiq-rung (the lover), who had promised to come To Nizamuddin’s house in spring, Hasn’t turned up - its been years. The yellow mustard is blooming in every field. |
|
Mora jobana navelara, bhayo
hai gulaal, Kaisi dhar dini bikas mori maal. Mora jobana navelara....... Nijamudin aulia ko koyi samajhaaye, Jyon jyon manaon, wo to rootha hi jaaye. Mora jobana navelara...... Chudiyan phod palang pe daaron, Is cholee ko doon main aag lagaai. Sooni saij darawan laagay, virah agni mohay dus dus jaaye Mora jobana navelara....... |
My youth is budding, is full of passion; How can I spend this time without my beloved? Would someone please coax Nizamuddin Aulia, The more I appease him, the more annoyed he gets; My youth is budding…… Want to break these bangles against the cot, And throw up my blouse into fire, The empty bed scares me, The fire of separation keeps burning me. Oh, beloved. My youth is budding. |