.
.
Love is not easy, a withering flame it is
A trial for both the strong and tame it is
.
.
Ishq aasan na buad soz e mudam ast i ja
(love easy isn’t burning continuous it is)
Imtihaan e dil e har puktha o khaam ast i ja
(a test of hearts strong and callow it is)
.
.
.
.
Of Islam and of sin
Rasul knows not a thing
Thy face and thy hair
Are his faith and his prayer
.
.
Rasul che zainith diin te mazhab
(rasul understands as his religion and faith)
Rukh tai zulf chaen
(face and hair yours)
Kyah zaeni Kyah gow
(what knows he what is)
Kufr te islam nigaaro
(heresy and Islam, beauteous one)
.
.
.
.
Another leaf withers and palls
Another orchard goes dry and bare
Another vessel dithers and falls
Another creature is caught in the snare
The ravaged harvest is covered by a fog
The flowing brook has slowed to a trickle
The savaged forest is replaced by a bog
The sun’s glare has turned pale and fickle
But though the hues of summer are smudged
And the sky seems now perpetually gray.
Even if the snow and dew has turned to sludge
And the gloom threatens to loom and stay
The summer’s fling and the spring’s high art
Needs must thrive and survive in my heart
.
.
.
.
With feet off the stirrups, and the reins hanging free
The steed of life gallops on; where it halts, let us see
.
.
rau meñ hai raḳhsh-e-umr kahāñ dekhiye thame
(stride in is steed of life where see stops)
ne haath baag par hai na pā hai rikāb meñ
(not in hand reins are not feet are stirrup in)
.
.
The world is hollowed out and its heart is bled
The best and the worst now share the same bed
.
Conceit has stripped nature of its garb
What was once green has now turned to red
.
The rain drops on the sodden, withered ground
Masking the gurgle of the dying and the dead
.
I leave myself and travel far in scope
Like a mote floating in an endless ocean of dread
.
The roar of eternity drowns out all sense
Being – a brief tangle on that unending thread
.
Infinite knots dispersed upon the skien of life
Yet each holds an infinity in its spread
.
Life is a fool’s fantasy and a jester’s farce
This much is true, when all is done and said
.
Learn from this truth, Omer, walk its straight path
To knowledge by the light of its flame be led
.
.
.
.
None but my beloved, my heart doth occupy
For none may enter where the sovereign doth lie
.
.
Mara dar dil bagair az dost cheez e dar nami gunjad
Ki khalwat khana e sultan tase(?) digar nami gunjad
.
.
.
.
The rose its gentle charm from thee hath got
Thee the nightingale its sweet song hath taught
Thy beauteous stature the divine artisan himself shaped
Thy stately form with verdant hues of Eden draped
They that saw thy red lips noted in their heart
Verily, these be Yemeni gems of the greatest art
My body is vanquished in my love for thee
Go tell Owais not alone in his anguish is he
O, let this wretched Jaami’s humble supplications gain
The holy Rasool-e-Madani‘s sacred, blessed domain
.
.
Gul Az Rukhat Aamokhta Nazuk Badani Ra
BulBul ze tu AaMokhta Shireen Sukhani Ra
Har kas ke lab e laal tora, deeda ba dil guft
Haqqa ke chay khush kanda, aqeeq e Yemeni ra
Khayyaat e azal dokhta bar qaamat e zeba
Dar qadd e to ee’n jaama e sarw e chamani ra
Dar ishqay to dandaan e shikast ast ba ulfat
Tu jaama rasa need, Owais e Qarani ra
Az Jaami e bechaara rasaa need salaamay
Bar dargah e darbaar e Rasool e Madani ra
.
.
This is one of the most famous naats (devotional poems about the Prophet Muhammad – peace be upon him -) by Maulana Jami, the great 15th century Persian poet. I’ve taken a little license in the fourth couplet by translating the word ‘teeth’ to ‘body’. I did this because the symbolism of teeth being broken in the Prophet’s love is very specific to Muslim tradition, and one would require knowledge of Hazrat Owais Qarni’s story to comprehend the impact of this verse. So, in the interest of keeping the poem coherent to an English speaker, I’ve taken some liberty with this verse.
It was a difficult decision to make – I hope Jami forgives me for this transgression.
.
.
.
I’m laying in your wake, do you even care?
O proud one, look, my head lies strewn there
My condition rests on whether you’ll listen or not
The account of my state is both long and short
Somewhere Yusuf, somewhere as Zulekha it appears
This love, that illusions at once casts and clears
There be those who swoon at beauty’s terrible smite
Unlike Musa, though, I have the forbearance to stand its sight
Nadir, separation, like Majnu, has left you wandering the earth
Yet rest, O nomad, even you have a home and hearth
.
.
Pamaal rehguzar hun tujhe kuch khabar bi hai
O mast-e-naaz dekh yahan mera sar bi hai
Mauqoof tere sunne na sunne pe hai ye haal
Qisa mera daraz bi hai muktasar bi hai
Yusuf bana kahin to zulekha bana kahin
Ye ishq pardadaar bi hai pardagar bi hai
Wo aur thei jo gir pade barq-e-jamaal se
Musa nahi hun main mujhe tab-e-nazar bi hai
Nadir firaq-e-yaar mein majnu to ban gaya
Khana badosh beth kahin tera ghar bi hai
.
.
.
.
Over the meadows
Beyond the blue summer sky
I hear thunder roll
.
.
“What does it cost to gain a little?”
“It costs a little”
“What does it cost to gain a lot?”
“It costs a lot”
“Then what does it cost to gain everything?”
….
Beshno.... 