Amir Khusrow and Ḥallāj: two in one

 

amirkhusrobig

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

 

alhaqq

Ḥallāj

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.

 

Original:
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.

sufimusicians

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

 

persiangarden

 

Translation:
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.

 

shalimar


persianminlandscape

Don’t leave me…

alandalus1

 

Translation:
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

Original:

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-

 

 

 

 

persia3

Tonight I learned that you would come

Another poem of Amir Khusrow:

Translation:

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?

 

Original:

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.

 

Nasr_ol_Molk_mosque_vault_ceiling_2

compare with this ghazal of Hafez:

Translation:

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

 

 

Original:

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

The River of Love

One of the most popular and beautiful verses of the wonderful Amir Khusrau…

ocean-waves
darya

Khusrau darya prem ka, ulti wa ki dhaar,
Jo utra so doob gaya, jo dooba so paar.

Oh Khusrau, the river of love
Runs in strange ways.
One who enters it drowns,
And one who drowns, gets across.

hiroshige-whirpool

 Sohni_&_Mahinwal_fullriver

it is popularly performed alongside the equally famous poem Chaap Tilak, as in the videos below:

Translation:

You’ve taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance.
By making me drink the wine from the distillery of love
You’ve intoxicated me by just a glance;
My fair, delicate wrists with green bangles in them,
Have been bound by you by just a glance.
I give my life to you, Oh my cloth-dyer,
You’ve dyed me in yourself, by just a glance.
I give my whole life to you Oh, Nizam,
You’ve made me your bride, by just a glance.

 

 

Transliteration:

Chhāp tilak sab chīnī re mose nainā milāike

Bāt atham keh dīnī re mose nainā milāike
Prem bhaṭī kā madvā pilāike
Matvālī kar līnhī re mose nainā milāike
Gorī gorī baīyān, harī harī chuṛiyān
baīyān pakaṛ dhar līnhī re mose nainā milāike
Bal bal jāūn main tore rang rajvā
Apnī sī kar līnhī re mose nainā milāike
Khusro Nijām ke bal bal jaiye
Mohe suhāgan kīnhī re mose nainā milāike
Bāt atham keh dīnī re mose nainā milāike

 

loversinsidemusicoutside

The first verse is a part of the following family of couplets:

Bae gaye baalam, bae gaye nadia kinaar,
Aapay paar utar gaye, hum to rahay ehi paar.

He has crossed, the beloved has crossed,
Has reached the other side, on his own.
With me, left here alone.

darya

Khusrau darya prem ka, ulti wa ki dhaar,
Jo utra so doob gaya, jo dooba so paar.

Oh Khusrau, the river of love
Runs in strange directions.
One who jumps into it drowns,
And one who drowns, gets across.

 

Bhai ray malla jo hum kon paar utaar,
Haath ka devongi mandra, gal ka devun haar.

 

Oh, brother oarsman, if you let me cross the river,
I have for you my gold bangle, my necklace.

 

from: http://www.angelfire.com/sd/urdumedia/doha.html

job persian miniature

hiroshige-autumn-moon-over-tama-river

Where was I Last Night?

Hasht-Bihisht_Amir_Khusro_Met_1

Translation:

I don’t know what place it was, where I was last night,
The dance of death whirled all around me, where I was last night
A nymph-like beauty with tulip cheeks and a cypress body
was wreaking havoc in the hearts, where I was last night
God himself was the master of ceremonies, in that placeless place, oh Khusrow
Muhammad was the candle of that party, where I was last night.

Original:

Nami danam chi manzil bood shab jaay ki man boodam;
Baharsu raqs-e bismil bood shab jaay ki man boodam.
Pari paikar nigaar-e sarw qadde laala rukhsare;
Sarapa aafat-e dil bood shab jaay ki man boodam.
Khuda khud meer-e majlis bood andar laamakan Khusrau;
Muhammad shamm-e mehfil bood shab jaay ki man boodam.

 

I have found my love

Another gem from Amīr Khusrow, about his Shaykh Niẓamuddīn Awliyā’:

amir khusro nizam ad-din

 

Translation:

What a glow I see everywhere , Oh mother, what a glow;
I’ve found the beloved, yes I found him,
In my courtyard;
I have found my pīr Nizamuddin Aulia.
I roamed around the whole world,
looking for the perfect beloved;
And finally this face has enchanted my heart.
The whole world has been opened for me,
I’ve never seen a glow like this before.
Whenever I see now, he is with me,
Oh beloved, please dye me in yourself;
Dye me in the colour of the spring, beloved;
What a glow, Oh, what a glow.

Original:


Aaj rung hai hey maan rung hai ri
Moray mehboob kay ghar rang hai ri
Sajan milaavra, sajan milaavra,
Sajan milaavra moray aangan ko
Aaj rung hai……..
Mohay pir paayo Nijamudin aulia
Nijamudin aulia mohay pir payoo
Des bades mein dhoondh phiree hoon
Toraa rung man bhayo ri……,
Jag ujiyaaro, jagat ujiyaaro,
Main to aiso rang aur nahin dekhi ray
Main to jab dekhun moray sung hai,
Aaj rung hai hey maan rung hai ri.

From: http://allpoetry.com/Aaj-Rung-Hai-#sthash.uw93K4hy.dpuf

amir-khusro nizam

Hafez and Basho

 

moon-crescent-red-sky-2798964-1920x1080

Basho

A strange flower 
for birds and butterflies
the autumn sky

 

Glorious the moon . . .
therefore our thanks
dark clouds
Come to rest our necks

Shoson Ohara Koson Pluvier au bord de la Mer avec un croissant de lune

The first day of the year:
thoughts come – and there is loneliness;
the autumn dusk is here.

 

None is travelling
Here along this way but I,
This autumn evening.

japancrescentmoon

Dewdrop, let me cleanse
in your brief
sweet waters . . .
These dark hands of life
crescentsunset
In the twilight rain
these brilliant-hued
hibiscus . . .
A lovely sunset

 

Fever-felled half-way,
my dreams arose
To march again . . .
Into a hollow land

 

lunar_crescent

Hafez

Translation:
Wholesome is the ambergris-scented, fragrant breeze
that arose, longing for you at dawn
O bird of good omen, be my guide
My eye melted in yearning for the dust of that door
To recall my ailing body, drowned in my heart’s blood
look at the crescent moon in the evening twilight
It is I who breathe without you. What a shame!
Unless you forgive me, I have no excuse for my sin
The way of love, the dawn learned from your lovers
to tear its black garment at daybreak
When I am gone from this world with the love of your face
Instead of grass, the red rose will bloom from my dust
Do not allow your sensitive heart to be hurt by me
For your Hafez has just said “Bismillāh.”

 

Original:

خنک نسیم معنبر شمامه‌ای دلخواه            که در هوای تو برخاست بامداد پگاه
دلیل راه شو ای طایر خجسته لقا          که دیده آب شد از شوق خاک آن درگاه
به یاد شخص نزارم که غرق خون دل است                     هلال را ز کنار افق کنید نگاه
منم که بی تو نفس می‌کشم زهی خجلت         مگر تو عفو کنی ور نه چیست عذر گناه
ز دوستان تو آموخت در طریقت مهر             سپیده دم که صبا چاک زد شعار سیاه
به عشق روی تو روزی که از جهان بروم                ز تربتم بدمد سرخ گل به جای گیاه
مده به خاطر نازک ملالت از من زود           که حافظ تو خود این لحظه گفت بسم الله

crescentcircle

Translation:

O Saqi, brighten my cup with the light of wine
Musician, sing, for the world is now as I wish

The sky’s green sea and the crescent moon’s cup
have been filled with the blessings of our Hajji Qavām

Original:
ساقی! به نور باده برافروز جام ما            مطرب، بگو که کار جهان شد به کام ما

دریای اَخضَر فَلَک و کشتی هِلال                   هستند غرقِ نعمتِ حاجی قوام ما

 

The_poet_Sa'di_converses_by_night_with_a_young_friend_in_a_garden._Miniature_from_Gulistan_Sa'di._Herat,_1427._Chester_Beatty_Library,_Dublin._f.3r

Basho on poetry

zen enso

“What is important is to keep our mind high in the world of true understanding, and, returning to the world of our daily experience, to seek therein the truth of beauty. No matter what we may be doing at a given moment, we must not forget that it has a bearing upon our everlasting self which is poetry.”

 

The autumn full moon
All night long
I walked around the lake

japanese pine

“Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and do not learn. Your poetry issues of its own accord when you and the object have become one – when you have plunged deep enough into the object to see something like a hidden glimmering there. However well-phrased your poetry may be, if your feeling is not natural – if the object and yourself are separate – then your poetry is not true poetry but merely your subjective counterfeit.”

willow_egret

 

 

Whoever tastes the flavour of our drink…

A well-known and oft-quoted Sufi classic by the 14th C Egyptian poet, Ibn bint Mayliq

Whoever tastes the flavour of the drink of the people knows it
and whoever becomes aware of it tomorrow [the Day of Resurrecton] will give his soul for it
Even if he risked his spirits, and sacrificed them
with every blink of the eye, it would still not equal it
A drop of it suffices all creation, had they but tasted,
they would declare themselves above all the worlds in drunken pride
The possessor of love, were he given the universe as a cup
to drink as many times as the number of souls, he still would not be quenched

 

Original:

من ذاقَ طعم شرابِ القوم يدريهِ          ومن دراه غداً بالروح يشريهِ
ولو تعرّضَ أرواحاً وجاد بها          في كل طرفةِ عين لا يُساويهِ
وقطرةٌ منه تكفي الخلقَ لو طعموا          فيشطَحونَ على الأكوان بالتيه
وذو الصبابة لو يسقى على عددِ الأن       فاسِ والكون كأساً ليس يرويهِ

 

The cicada: Camaron and Basho

cicada2

A cicada shell;
it sang itself
utterly away.

 

In the cicada’s cry
There’s no sign that can foretell
How soon it must die.

 

stillness—
sinking into the rocks,
cicadas’ cry
—Barnhill, Bashō’s Haiku, 94, #392

-Basho

 

Camaron

Translation:

Don’t sing cicada
silence your chirping,
For I carry a pain in my soul,
A dagger that strikes me
knowing that when I sing
my luck expires sighing
Under the shade of a tree
and the beat of my guitar
This happy song,
because the road has ended
and do not want to die dreaming,
oh, like the cicada died.

Life, life, life is,
is a setback,
life is life.
Oh life is, life is …

 

Original:

Ya no cantes cigarra,
apaga tu sonsonete,
que llevo una pena en el alma,
que como un puñal se me mete
sabiendo que cuando canto
suspirando va mi suerte.

Bajo la sombra de un árbol
y al compás de mi guitarra
canto alegre este huapango,
porque la vía se acaba
y no quiero morir soñando,
ay, como muere la cigarra.

Ábreme la puerta
que vengo najando,
y los gachés, primita de mi alma,
sí a mí me ven
me la van buscando.

La vida, la vida, la vida es,
es un contratiempo,
la vida, la vida es.

Ay la vida es, la vida es…