You make me forget myself…

Amir Khusro

I dressed myself up to go see my Love
but when I saw him, I forgot myself
you robbed me of everything
when our eyes met


You made me drink love’s elixir
and I got drunk
when our eyes met


My fair arms with green bangles
you took by the wrist
when our eyes met


Again and again I bow to you
my cloth-dyer whose dye colours everyhting
you dyed me in yourself
when our eyes met


You became the charming lover—
you left me breathless
when our eyes met


Khusro gives his life to you, Nizam
you made me a bride
when our eyes met



Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Prem bhatee ka madhva pilaikay
Matvali kar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Gori gori bayyan, hari hari churiyan
Bayyan pakar dhar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Bal bal jaaon mein toray rang rajwa
Apni see kar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Khusrau Nijaam kay bal bal jayyiye
Mohay Suhaagan keeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay




With my beautiful face all adorned, when I went to the beloved,
I saw his face, and forgot all about my own beauty.
Apni chhab banaikay, jo main pi kay paas gayi
Chhab dekhi jab piyu ki so apni bhool gayi.




Show me your face and make me forget I exist
         Let the wind take the harvest of burned ones
Since I let the storm of calamity take my heart and sight
         Let the flood of grief take my house from its foundation
Who smells his tress which is like raw ambergris
         O naive heart, take this question out of your mind
Tell the chest: burn hotter than the flames of the fire-temple of Fars
          Tell the eye: overflow, put the Tigris of Baghdad to shame
On this path, no place can be reached without effort
            If you seek reward, then obey the master
Long live the Magian Pir, the rest is trivial
           Let the others go away and forget my name
Promise to visit me for a moment on the day of my death
            and then carry me to the grave, unbound and free
Last night he said he would kill me with his long eyelashes
          O Lord, take the thought of cruelty from his mind
Hafez, consider the beloved’s sensitive nature
           Leave his doorstep, and take this weeping and wailing with you




روی بنمای و وجود خودم از یاد ببر
خرمن سوختگان را همه گو باد ببر
ما چو دادیم دل و دیده به طوفان بلا
گو بیا سیل غم و خانه ز بنیاد ببر
زلف چون عنبر خامش که ببوید هیهات
ای دل خام طمع این سخن از یاد ببر
سینه گو شعله آتشکده فارس بکش
دیده گو آب رخ دجله بغداد ببر
دولت پیر مغان باد که باقی سهل است
دیگری گو برو و نام من از یاد ببر
سعی نابرده در این راه به جایی نرسی
مزد اگر می‌طلبی طاعت استاد ببر
روز مرگم نفسی وعده دیدار بده
وان گهم تا به لحد فارغ و آزاد ببر
دوش می‌گفت به مژگان درازت بکشم
یا رب از خاطرش اندیشه بیداد ببر
حافظ اندیشه کن از نازکی خاطر یار
برو از درگهش این ناله و فریاد ببر


Don’t ignore my sorry state

One of the most popular of Amir Khusrau’s ghazal’s this poem features lines of alternating Persian and Hindavi:




Do not ignore my sorry state
She rolls her eyes and makes excuses
For I cannot bear this separation
Why won’t she take me in her arms?


Long like curls are the nights of separation,
short like life are the days of our union;
My dear, how will I get through this dark night
without seeing your face?


Suddenly, using a thousand tricks,
two enchanting eyes robbed me of my peace of mind;
Who cares for me enough to tell my love of my plight?


Trembling and bewildered, like a flickering candle,
I roam about in the fire of love;
Sleepless eyes, restless body,
neither comes she, nor any message.


O Khusrau, for the sake of the day when you meet your beloved
who has ever tricked us
keep your love concealed in your heart,
in the hopes of reaching her home



Zeehaal-e miskeen makun taghaful,
duraye naina banaye batiyan;
ki taab-e hijran nadaram ay jaan,
na leho kaahe lagaye chhatiyan.Shaban-e hijran daraz chun zulf
wa roz-e waslat cho umr kotah;
Sakhi piya ko jo main na dekhun
to kaise kaatun andheri ratiyan.Yakayak az dil do chashm-e jadoo
basad farebam baburd taskin;
Kise pari hai jo jaa sunaave
piyare pi ko hamaari batiyan.Cho shama sozan cho zarra hairan
hamesha giryan be ishq aan meh;
Na neend naina na ang chaina
na aap aaven na bhejen patiyan
bahaq-e-roze wisale dilbar ki dad mara garib Khusrau;
sapit man ke waraye rakhun jo jaye paon piya ke khatiyan


ز حال مسكين مكن تغافل دورايي نينان بتايي بتيان
كه تاب هجران ندارم اي جان نه ليهو كاهي لگايي چهتيان
شبان هجران دراز چون زلف و روز وصلت چو عمر كوتاه
سكهي پيا كو جو مي نه ديكهون تو كيسي كاتون اندهيري رتيان
يكايك از دل دو چشم جادو به صد فريبن ببرد تسكين
كسي پري هي جو جا سناوي پياري پي سي هماري بتيان
چو شمع سوزان چو ذره حيران هميشه گريان به عشق آن مه
نه نيند نينان نه انگ چينان نه آپ آوين نه بهيجين پتيان
به حق روز وصال دلبر كه داد ما را فريب خسرو
سپيت من كي ورايي راكهون جو جايي پاون پياكي كهتيان


You left, but stayed in my heart


Amir Khusro

My heart left me, but longing for you won’t leave my heart
My heart broke apart, but the pain of you won’t lessen
The moon at night rises opposite your face
but the day will never come when the moon can oppose it
My face is pale gold, and I grind it with the dust of your door
but to be united with you is an unattainable alchemy
At your hands, my tears are a sash
hung over heaven’s shoulders
but my hands cannot hang draped around your neck
I sit in sorrow: though my soul departs, my heart cannot rise up and leave
My heart is a waystation of grief, but no caravan of patience can reach it
or escape the brigands of absence
Khusrau fell into the whirling abyss of longing
the ship of his desire will not make shore

English Translation from: In the Bazaar of Love by Paul Losensky and Sunil Sharma



دل رفت و آرزوی تو از دل نمی شود
دل پاره گشت و درد تو زائل نمی شود
مه می شود مقابل روی تو هر شبی
یک روز با رخ تو مقابل نمی شود
رویم زر است و بر در تو خاک می کنم
وصل تو کیمیاست که حاصل نمی شود
شد اشک من حمایل گردون ز دست تو
دستم به گردن تو حمایل نمی شود
بنشسته ام به غم که ز عشق تو خاستن
با آنکه جان همی شودم، دل نمی شود
دل منزل غم آمد و از رهزنان هجر
یک کاروان صبر به منزل نمی شود
خسرو در اوفتاد به غرقاب آرزو
چون کشتی مراد به ساحل نمی شود



You disappeared, but not from my heart
and you became my happiness and joy
in separation, separation was separated from me
and became my presence in the unseen
For you are the hidden secret of my passion
In my heart, hidden deeper than fantasy
You are my friend in the light of day
and my companion in the darkness

fes brass door


غىبتَ وما غِىبتَ عن ضميري
و صرت فرحتي و سروري
و انفصل الفصل بافتراق
فصار في غيبتي حضوري
فأنت في سرّ غيب همّي
أخفى من الوهم في ضميري
تؤنسي بالنهار حقا
و أنت عند الدجى سميري


It is love, so surrender

Ibn al-Fāriḍ



It is love, so surrender your body—passion is not easy
One stricken by it would not choose it, had he reason
So live without it, for love’s ease is hard
it’s beginning is sickness, and its end is death
But for me, dying in love longingly
for the one I love, is life revived abundantly
I have warned you, knowing love and my transgressions
so choose for yourself what is sweet
But if you want to live happily,
then die in love a martyr—if not, then Love has its people
For whoever does not die in love has not lived it
without facing the bees, you can never gather honey
Say unto the love-slain: “you have fulfilled its right”
and to the pretender: “how different are the black-eyed beauties and those who use eyeliner!”


هو الحُبّ فاسلم بالحشا ما الهَوى سهلَ
فـما اخـتارَهُ مُـضْنى بـه وله عقْلُ

وعِـشْ خـالياً فـالحُبّ راحتُهُ عَناً
وأَوّلُــهُ سُـقْـمٌ وآخـرُهُ قَـتْلُ

ولـكنْ لـديّ الـموتُ فـيه صَبابةً
حـياةٌ لـمَن أهـوى عليّ بها الفضل

نـصحْتُك عِـلماً بالهَوَى والذي أرى
مـخالَفَتي فـاختر لـنفسكَ مـا يحلو

فـإن شـئتَ أن تحيا سعيداً فمُتْ بِهِ
شـهـيداً وإلاّ فـالغرامُ لـهُ أهْـل

فـمن لـم يـمُتْ فـي حُبّه لم يَعِشْ به
ودون اجـتناءِ النّحل ما جنتِ النّحل

وقُـلْ لـقتيلِ الـحبّ وَفّـيتَ حقّه
ولـلمدعي هيهاتِ ما الكَحَلُ الكَحْل

Amīr Khusro




You took my heart from my body, but you’ve stayed in my soul
You given me so much pain, and yet you remain the cure
You split my chest wide open, but in it, you’ve stayed hidden
With flirtation’s sword, you laid waste the kingdom of the heart
And yet, there you remain, a sultan amidst the ruins
The two worlds is what you’ve set as your price
Raise the price, for this is still too cheap
Like salt, I dissolved from shedding many tears
While, from your smile, you remain so sugar-sweet
My soul was freed from its body’s bonds
While my heart remains a prisoner in your curling locks
Old age and beauties’ worship seem to go along so well
Khusro, how long will you remain troubled by this turmoil?




دل ز تن بردی و در جانی هنوز
دردها دادی و درمانی هنوز
           آشکارا سینه‌ام بشکافتی
همچنان در سینه پنهانی هنوز
          ملک دل کردی خراب از تیغ ناز
واندرین ویرانه سلطانی هنوز
           هر دو عالم، قیمت خود گفته‌ای
نرخ بالا کن که ارزانی هنوز
            ما ز گریه چون نمک بگداختیم
تو ز خنده شکرستانی هنوز
             جان ز بند کالبد آزاد گشت
دل به گیسوی تو زندانی هنوز
               پیری و شاهدپرستی هم خوشست
خسروا تا کی پریشانی هنوز؟



Hafez: Minstrel vs. Philosopher

The minstrel played a melody from the pain of love

that covered the philosopher’s eyelashes in blood


For years I pawned my book for wine,
      the rowdiness of the tavern was from my teaching and praying
See the goodness of the Magian Pīr:
       Whatever we drunks did was beautiful in his kind eye
Wash the whole book of our knowledge in wine
       for I saw that heaven despises the wise
O heart, if you know beauty, then seek it in idols
        as one who knows the science of sight has said
My heart moved around in every direction, like a compass
        while part of it stood in that circle, amazed
The minstrel played a melody from the pain of love
         that covered the philosopher’s eyelashes with blood
I blossomed with joy, for like a rose on the lips of a stream
         the shadow of that cypress’s tall stature fell on my head
My saffron Pīr did not allow any bad speech about the blue-clad
          otherwise, there would be many tales…
Hafez’s gold-plated, counterfeit heart could not be spent before him
          for this dealer could see all hidden defects


سال‌ها دفتر ما در گرو صهبا بود
رونق میکده از درس و دعای ما بود
نیکی پیر مغان بین که چو ما بدمستان
هر چه کردیم به چشم کرمش زیبا بود
دفتر دانش ما جمله بشویید به می
که فلک دیدم و در قصد دل دانا بود
از بتان آن طلب ار حسن شناسی ای دل
کاین کسی گفت که در علم نظر بینا بود
دل چو پرگار به هر سو دورانی می‌کرد
و اندر آن دایره سرگشته پابرجا بود
مطرب از درد محبت عملی می‌پرداخت
که حکیمان جهان را مژه خون پالا بود
می‌شکفتم ز طرب زان که چو گل بر لب جوی
بر سرم سایه آن سرو سهی بالا بود
پیر گلرنگ من اندر حق ازرق پوشان
رخصت خبث نداد ار نه حکایت‌ها بود
قلب اندوده حافظ بر او خرج نشد
کاین معامل به همه عیب نهان بینا بود






Ay, ay, ay, ay…
I am not
I am not from this land
nor do I know anyone.
He who does,
whoever has done good for my child
May God bless you



No soy,
no soy de esta tierra,
ni conozco a nadie.
El que lo haga.
Quien lo hiciera a bien para mi niño.
que Dios se lo pague.

Hafez: the rose began to burn

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If you have news of the state of the heart, tell me!
or if you have any idea of where He is, tell me!
I know death, but until to alley of the Friend
if you have a shortcut, tell me!
گر ز حال دل خبر داری بگو
ور نشانی مختصر داری بگو
مرگ را دانم ، ولی تا کوی دوست
راه اگر نزدیک تر داری بگو



Friends, it is better to work for joy in the season of the rose
    this is the talk of the people of the heart, let us listen closely
No one is generous and the time for pleasure is going fast
    so let’s sell our prayer mats for wine
The weather is lovely and joyful
    O God, send us a beauty to whose face we can drink rosy wine
The organist of heaven is the artists’ bandit
    how can we not cry from this grief? 
The rose began to burn, but we didn’t splash water on it
    so we are boiling with the fire of lack and desire
From the tulip’s cup we drink imaginary wine
    evil eye begone! We are drunk without musician or wine.
Hafez, whom can we tell about this strange state?
    We are nightingales silent in the season of the rose.


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دوستان وقت گل آن به که به عشرت کوشیم
سخن اهل دل است این و به جان بنیوشیم
نیست در کس کرم و وقت طرب می‌گذرد
چاره آن است که سجاده به می بفروشیم
خوش هواییست فرح بخش خدایا بفرست
نازنینی که به رویش می گلگون نوشیم
ارغنون ساز فلک رهزن اهل هنر است
چون از این غصه ننالیم و چرا نخروشیم
گل به جوش آمد و از می نزدیمش آبی
لاجرم ز آتش حرمان و هوس می‌جوشیم
می‌کشیم از قدح لاله شرابی موهوم
چشم بد دور که بی مطرب و می مدهوشیم
حافظ این حال عجب با که توان گفت که ما
بلبلانیم که در موسم گل خاموشیم

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Drunk eyes…


Amir Khusro




This eternal pain has left me broken
One glance of your drunken eyes and I lost my faith
My life is now a tale of the past
Spent, and sacrificed at the temple of you


O wondrous intoxicating eyes, o wondrous long locks
O wondrous worshipper of wine, o wondrous enchanter
As he draws the sword, I bow my head to be slain in prostration
How wondrous is his beneficence how wondrous, my submission
In the moment of being slain, my eyes beheld your face
O wondrous kindness, o wondrous guidance
O wondrous flirting, o wondrous beguiling,
O wondrous tilted cap, o wondrous tormentor.
Do not reveal the Truth; in this world blasphemy prevails, Khusrau;
O wondrous source of mystery, o wondrous knower of secrets.





sarmad dardi ajab shikaste kardi
eman bafizae chasm-e-maste kardi
umre ke baya to ahadess guzasht
rafte-o-nisare butparaste kardi

chasm-e-maste ‘ajabe zulf taraze ‘ajabe
maiparaste ‘ajabe fitna taraze ‘ajabe
bahr-e-qatlam chu kashad teghe neham sar basujood
Ou banaaze ‘ajabe man banayaaze ‘ajabe

waqt-e-bismil shudanam chashm barooyash baz ast
mehrbaane ‘ajabe bandanawaaze ‘ajabe

turk taaze ‘ajabe shoba babaaze ‘ajabe
kajkhulaahe ‘ajabe ‘abrada saze ‘ajabe

haq mago kalma-e-kufr ast dar in ja Khusrau
razdaane ‘ajabe sahib-r-raz-e-‘ajabe

chashm e maste ajabe zulf taraze ajabe…







The scent of your curling locks keeps me drunk constantly
the charm of your magic eyes leaves me wasted ceaselessly
After so much patience, O Lord, will I ever be able to light
the candle of my sight at the mihrab of your eyebrow?
The black of vision’s tablet is as dear as anything to me
Because it is the drawing of your black mole for my soul
If you wish to decorate the whole world forever
tell the dawn wind to lift the veil from your face for a time
I, from the sorcery of your intoxicating eyes,
and the dawn wind, from the scent of your hair, are two hopeless vagabonds
How great is Hafez’s zeal! For in his eye nothing appeared
of this world or the next, save the dust of your street




مُدامم مست می‌دارد نسیم جَعد گیسویت                   خرابم می‌کند هر دم فریب چَشم جادویت
پس از چندین شکیبایی شبی یا رب توان دیدن                 که شمع دیده افروزیم در محراب ابرویت؟
سواد لوح بینش را عزیز از بهر آن دارم             که جان را نسخه‌ای باشد ز لوح خال هندویت
تو گر خواهی که جاویدان جهان یک سر بیارایی             صبا را گو که بردارد زمانی بُرقع از رویت
و گر رسم فنا خواهی که از عالم براندازی           برافشان تا فروریزد هزاران جان ز هر مویت
من و باد صبا مسکین دو سرگردانِ بی‌حاصل        من از افسون چشمت مست و او از بوی گیسویت
زهی همت که حافظ راست از دنیا و از عُقبیٰ                 نیاید هیچ در چشمش بجز خاک سر کویت




Amir Khusrow and Ḥallāj: two in one



Amir Khusrow

English Translation:
I have become you, and you me,
I am the body, you, the soul;
So that no one can say hereafter,
That you are someone, and I, someone else.

Orginal (transliteration):
Mun tu shudam tu mun shudi,mun tun shudam tu jaan shudi
Taakas na guyad baad azeen, mun deegaram tu deegari




I am He whom I love, and He whom I love is I
two spirits dwelling in one body
if you see me, you see Him,
and if you see Him, you see us.


أنا من أهوى و من أهوى أنا        نحن روحان حللنا بدنا
فإذا أبصرتني أبصرته        و إذا أبصرته أبصرتنا

Amir Khusrow


Khusrau raen suhaag ki.....

Khusrau raen suhaag ki, jaagi pi ke sung,
Tun mero mun pi-u ko, dovu bhaye ek rung.

Khusrau (the bride) spends the eve of her wedding
Awake with her beloved, (in such a way that)
The body belongs to her, but heart to the beloved,
The two become one.

Khusrau baazi prem ki main khelun pi ke sung,
Jeet gayi to piya moray, haari, pi kay sung.

I, Khusrau, play the game of love with my beloved,
If I win, the beloved’s mine, defeated, I’m beloved’s.


English Translation:
The creaking of the chain of Majnun is the orchestra of the lovers,
Appreciating its music is beyond the ears of the wise. 



Orginal (transliteration):
Naala-e zanjeer-e Majnun arghanoon-e aashiqanast
Zauq-e aan andaza-e gosh-e ulul-albaab neest




If there is a paradise on earth,
It is here, it is here, it is here


Orginal (transliteration):
Agar firdaus bar roo-e zameen ast,
Hameen ast-o hameen ast-o hameen ast.




Don’t leave me…



Torture me as you will, but don’t stay away from me,
and you will find me the most faithful of lovers, delighting in whatever pleases thee
Who will take pity on me, and destroy my soul in love for this gazelle
who, within every soul, are mingled her sweet qualities
Whoever dies of love for her will live on eternally
exalted among the folk of love in the highest of degrees
Good God! How sweet are her qualities and how many hearts
have been slain and brought back to life because of her
And if he be absent from me, yet still my every limb sees
her in every subtle meaning, delicate, lovely
In the songs of the ‘oud and the gentle flute’s reed
when their voices combine in sweet harmonies

-Ibn al-Fāriḍ


عذِّبْ بما شئتَ غيرَ البعدِ عنكَ تجدْ                 أوفى مُحِبٍ، بما يُرْضيكَ مُبْتَهِجِ
وخذْ بقيَّة ما أبقيتَ منْ رمقٍ           لا خيرَ في الحبِّ إنْ أبقى على المهجِ
منْ لي باتلافِ روحي في هوى رشأ                   حلوِ الشَّمائلِ بالأرواحِ ممتزجِ
منْ ماتَ فيهِ غراماً عاشَ مرتقياً                ما بينَ أهلِ الهوى في أرفعِ الدَّرجِ
تَبارَكَ اللّهُ ما أحلَى شَمَائِلَهُ،                   فكمْ أماتتْ وأحيتْ فيهِ منْ مهجِ
تراهُ إنْ غابَ عنِّي كلُّ جارحةٍ                  في كلّ مَعنى لطيفٍ، رائقٍ، بهِجِ
في نغمة العودِ والنَّايِ الرَّخيمِ إذا                         تآلَّفا بينَ ألحانٍ منَ الهزجِ
ابن الفارض-






Tonight I learned that you would come

Another poem of Amir Khusrow:


Tonight I heard 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 risen to my lips (I am on the verge of death);
Come so that I may remain alive –
After I am no longer – for what purpose will you come?



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.



compare with this ghazal of Hafez:


Last night, the wind told me of my friend who’s gone away
I will give my heart to the wind, come what may
It’s gotten to the point where my only friends are
the evening’s flashing lightning, the breeze at break of day
In the curl of your tress, my defenseless heart
never longed for the place where it once lay
Today I see the worth of the words they used to say
O Lord, bless those who warned me about this day
Recalling you, my heart would bleed whenever the wind
would undo the rosebud’s robe in flirting play
By dawn, my feeble existence had all but slipped away
When with hope of union with you, the wind brought a new day
Hafez, your beautiful nature will fulfill your desire
May  good souls be sacrificed in beauty’s way




دوش آگهی ز یار سفرکرده داد باد      من نیز دل به باد دهم هر چه باد باد
کارم بدان رسید که همراز خود کنم         هر شام برق لامع و هر بامداد باد
در چین طره تو دل بی حفاظ من         هرگز نگفت مسکن مالوف یاد باد
امروز قدر پند عزیزان شناختم        یا رب روان ناصح ما از تو شاد باد
خون شد دلم به یاد تو هر گه که در چمن             بند قبای غنچه گل می‌گشاد باد
از دست رفته بود وجود ضعیف من    صبحم به بوی وصل تو جان بازداد باد
حافظ نهاد نیک تو کامت برآورد
جان‌ها فدای مردم نیکونهاد باد

mughal rose