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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hindustani Lyrics, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hindustani Lyrics
+
+Author: Various
+
+Translator: Inayat Khan and Jessie Westbrook
+
+Release Date: February 7, 2006 [EBook #17711]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HINDUSTANI LYRICS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ron Swanson
+
+
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: ZAFAR.]
+
+
+
+
+HINDUSTANI LYRICS
+
+
+RENDERED FROM THE URDU
+BY
+INAYAT KHAN
+AND
+JESSIE DUNCAN WESTBROOK
+
+
+
+
+_Sufism is the Religious Philosophy of Love, Harmony, and Beauty_
+
+
+
+
+LONDON:
+THE SUFI PUBLISHING SOCIETY, LTD.,
+86, LADBROKE ROAD, LONDON, W. 11.
+
+_All rights reserved._
+1919
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+PORTRAIT OF ZAFAR
+
+FOREWORD
+
+URDU LYRICS:--
+
+  ABRU
+
+  AMIR
+
+  ASIF
+
+  DAGH
+
+  FIGHAN
+
+  GHALIB
+
+  HALI
+
+  HASAN
+
+  INSHA
+
+  JURAT
+
+  MIR
+
+  MIR SOZ
+
+  MIR TAQI
+
+  MOMIN
+
+  MUSHAFI
+
+  MUZTAR
+
+  NASIKH
+
+  SAUDA
+
+  SHAMSHAD
+
+  TABAN
+
+  WALI
+
+  YAKRANG
+
+  ZAFAR
+
+  ZAHIR
+
+  ZAUQ
+
+FRAGMENTS:--
+
+  ARZU
+
+  GHALIB
+
+  HATIM
+
+  MAZHAR
+
+  MIR DARD
+
+  MIR SOZ
+
+  MIR TAQI
+
+  SAUDA
+
+  TABAN
+
+GLOSSARY
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD.
+
+
+Of the many languages of India, Urdu (Hindustani) is the most widely
+known, especially in Upper India. Both as a written and a spoken
+language it has a reputation throughout Asia for elegance and
+expressiveness. Until the time of Muhammad Shah, Indian poetry was
+written in Persian. But that monarch, who mounted the throne of Delhi
+in 1719, greatly desired to make Urdu the vogue, and under his patronage
+and approval, Hatim, one of his ministers, and Wali of the Deccan,
+wrote Diwans in Urdu. This patronage of poets was continued by his
+successors, and exists indeed to the present day; and the cultivation
+of Urdu poetry has always been encouraged at the many Courts of India.
+Some of the Indian Rulers are themselves poets, and find their duty
+and pleasure in rewarding with gifts and pensions the literary men
+whose works they admire. The Court of Hyderabad has for long had a
+circle of poets: the late Nizam was himself eminent as a writer of
+verse. The Maharaja-Gaekwar of Baroda is a generous patron of literary
+men, and the present Rulers of lesser States such as Patiala, Nabha,
+Tonk, and Rampur, are deeply interested in the cultivation of poetry
+in their Dominions.
+
+In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries many towns in India had
+extensive and flourishing literary coteries, and it is from the poets
+of that period that this handful of verses is gathered. The Mushaira--a
+poetical concourse, wherein rival poets meet to try their skill in
+a tournament of verse--is still an institution in India. Delhi, Agra,
+Lucknow, Lahore, Cawnpore, Allahabad, Benares, Calcutta, and
+Hyderabad, have all been, and some still are, nests of singing birds.
+Of the extent of Urdu literature some idea may be gained from the fact
+that a History of it written about 1870 gives the names of some three
+thousand authors, and that Tazkiras or anthologies containing
+selections from many poets are very numerous.
+
+The poetry is very varied and of great interest. It includes moral
+verses and counsels, sometimes in intermingled verse and prose; heroic
+poems telling the old tales of the loves of Khusru and Shirin, of Yusuf
+and Zuleika, of Majnun and Leila, and the romances of chivalry; elegies
+on the deaths of Hasan and Hussein, and of various monarchs; devotional
+poems in praise of Muhammad and the Imams; eulogies of the reigning
+Ruler or other patron or protector of the poor; satires upon men and
+institutions, sometimes upon Nature herself, specially upon such
+phenomena as heat, cold, inundations and pestilence; descriptive verse
+relating to the seasons and the months, the flowers and the trees.
+Above all there is a great wealth of love poetry, both secular and
+mystic, where, in impassioned ghazals or odes, the union of man with
+God is celebrated under various allegories, as the bee and the lotus,
+the nightingale and the rose, the moth and the flame.
+
+Most of the poets represented in this book write as Sufis, or Muslim
+mystics, and scoff at the unenlightened orthodox. For them God is in
+all and through all, to be worshipped equally in the Kaaba and in the
+Temple of the Idols, or too great to be adored adequately through the
+ritual of any creed. He is symbolized as the beautiful and cruel Beloved,
+difficult to find, withdrawn behind the veil, inspiring and demanding
+all worship and devotion. The Lover is the Madman, derided by the
+unsympathetic crowd, but happy in his ecstatic despair. He drinks the
+wine of love and is filled with a divine intoxication. For him this
+world is Maya--illusion, and the true life is that which is unmanifest.
+He finds no abiding place in this mortal caravan-serai, this shifting
+House of Mirrors; for his Soul is ever passing forward on the high
+Quest. Knowledge and skill are as dust, and self as nothing, compared
+with the Love that goads and urges him on.
+
+As a language, Urdu has a most composite ancestry, and comprises
+elements derived from the original languages of India, from Sanskrit,
+the tongue of the Aryan invaders, from Persian, from Turkish, from
+Kurdish and other Tartar tongues, from Arabic, even from Egyptian and
+Abyssinian; and later from such very foreign sources as Portuguese,
+Dutch, French, and English. The political phases through which India
+has successively passed have left their record in this hybrid character
+of the language. The process of its evolution really began long before
+the Christian era, when Sanskrit--the language of the Aryan
+conquerors--began to commingle with the languages of the peoples in
+Upper India, or Hindustan. From this union came the prakrits, or
+vernaculars. The one which at the time of the Buddha was current in
+Magadha--parts of the present British Behar and Orissa and the United
+Provinces of Agra and Oudh--was known as Magdhi, and the message
+delivered by the great Teacher was recorded in that vernacular. This
+spread rapidly with the growth of Buddhism, and became the court and
+official language of a large part of Upper India. The language which
+was developed in the north and north-west was called at first by the
+simple name Bhasha (Bhakha), which means the usual tongue, but later
+took the name of Hindi, and is written in the Sanskrit (Deva-nagari)
+character.
+
+At the beginning of the eighth century the Muslims appeared as
+conquerors in India. Mahmoud of Ghuzni, about 1,000 A.D., won great
+victories, and from that time Bhasha began to be modified in the towns.
+Four centuries later Tamerlane of the Mogul race entered India and
+took Delhi, laying the foundation of the Empire definitely established
+by Babar in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Hindi became
+saturated with Persian, itself already laden with many Arab words
+introduced through conquest and religion. The market of the army was
+established round Delhi, and bore the Tartar name of Urdu, which means
+horde or army, and thus, camp. It was especially at Delhi, after its
+rebuilding by Shah Jehan and its growth into the metropolis and
+literary and commercial and military centre, that the hybrid tongue
+took definite shape; it was named Zaban-i-urdu (literally, the
+language of the army) or simply Urdu, and was written in the Persian
+character. Even in its infancy it manifested a wealth of poetic
+inspiration derived from its varied ancestry.
+
+The poets from whose work the lyrics in this book have been selected
+were mostly writers of voluminous Diwans, and they occupied various
+and diverse stations in life. Some were Rulers, some soldiers, some
+darweshes (devotees), some men of letters only. The name given is in
+each case the takhallus (pen-name); each has some special significance,
+as Sauda, the folly of love, Momin, the believer, Zafar, the
+victorious; and frequently this name is introduced, by way of signature,
+into the closing stanza of a poem.
+
+ABRU: born at Lucknow, lived at Delhi, was a darwesh of the Order of
+Kalenders, and wrote an Urdu Diwan much appreciated for the ingenious
+allegories in which it abounds.
+
+AMIR: Amir Minai of Rampur, one of the best poets of the latest period:
+a great mystical poet: his Qasidahs for Muhammad are sung by devotees:
+Court poet of Rampur: travelled to Mecca and Medina, and, after the
+death of his patron, Nawab Kalbe Ali Khan, came to Hyderabad on hearing
+of the Nizam's fame and interest in poetry: rival of Dagh, by whose
+side he lies buried in Hyderabad.
+
+ARZU: a poet of Gwalior, where he held an important Government post
+in the days of Shah Alam II. (r. 1759-1806). He wrote his poems mostly
+in Persian, and was the author of a Dictionary of Mystical words.
+
+ASIF: pen-name of H.H. Mir Mahbub Ali Khan, Nizam of Hyderabad, who
+died in 1911: pupil of the poet Dagh (q.v.) and was an esteemed poet,
+and patron of poets.
+
+DAGH: a court poet of Rampur: went to Hyderabad and became the teacher
+of the Nizam in poetry (see Asif): lived there in great honour as Poet
+Laureate, and was given the title of Fasih-ul-Mulk (the eloquence of
+the nation): his poetry is described as natural and graceful in
+expression: his proficiency was so great that no poet could stand
+against him in the Mushaira: he was of extraordinary wit.
+
+FIGHAN: of Delhi: was the foster-brother of the Emperor Ahmad Shah
+(r. 1748-1754) and was one of the principal officers at the Imperial
+Court: famous for his piquant and witty conversation, and greatly
+skilled in jeux de mots, at which he spent his days and nights.
+
+GHALIB: came of a distinguished Turk family of Samarkand: wrote in
+Persian as well as in Urdu, and held the position of Poet Laureate
+at the Court of Bahadur Shah (r. 1837-1857) the last Mogul Emperor.
+
+HALI: a modern poet: pupil of Ghalib: recently dead: greatly admired,
+chiefly by the Muslims, for his poems calling for Muslim and Indian
+renascence. He received from the British Government the title of
+Shams-ul-ulema.
+
+HASAN: Mir Shulam Hasan, born at Delhi: passed his youth in Faizabad
+and then came to Lucknow to join the literary circle there: was as
+handsome in person as in mind, and his verse is still popular.
+
+HATIM: one of the early poets: born about 1700, he lived till near
+the end of the century: a soldier by profession, but in his old age
+renounced the world and became a darwesh: his cell was near the gate
+of the Imperial Palace, and many persons resorted to him for counsel.
+
+INSHA: born in Murshedabad, lived in Lucknow about the end of the 18th
+century: enjoyed the favour of Prince Suleiman Shikoh: wrote verse
+in Turkish, Arabic, Persian, but was most famous for his Urdu poems,
+which are elegant in style and conception.
+
+JURAT: of Delhi, celebrated for his skill in music, astronomy and
+poetry: became blind when still young: was pensioned by the Nawab
+Muhabbat Khan and afterwards by Suleiman Shikoh: author of an enormous
+volume of Urdu poetry composed of ghazals and of love-poems in the
+modern taste. Wrote satires on the rain, the cold, smallpox, etc.
+Versed in Hindu as well as Muslim poetry.
+
+MAZHAR: of Delhi: family originally from Bokhara: learned in
+jurisprudence as well as poetry: many favourite poets were his pupils:
+was a Sunni, made profession of spiritual poverty, and was even reputed
+to be able to work miracles: was killed by a fanatic because he
+disagreed with the Shiah mourning for the death of Hussein: died in
+1780, aged nearly a hundred years.
+
+MIR DARD: author of a famous Urdu diwan: skilled in the sacred music
+as sung at the assemblies of the Sufis: lived the life of a sage, the
+Padishah often coming to him for counsel, though he himself never
+sought the Emperor's Court.
+
+MIR SOZ: of Bokhari ancestry, had to leave his country in time of peril
+in the dress of a fakir: came to Lucknow, where he became tutor
+to the Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula.
+
+MIR TAQI: born at Agra, in his later days lived at Lucknow, under the
+protection of the Nawab of Oudh: wrote many kinds of verse, but excelled
+in the ghazal and the masnawi, and was the author of a biography of
+poets: wrote his own autobiography in Persian, and also Persian poetry.
+
+MOMIN: of Delhi: author of six long masnawis: skilled in medicine,
+astronomy and astrology, and deeply read in poetry: at first lived
+a gay and reckless life, in his old age gave himself to prayer and
+fasting, and acquired great contemporary fame: his work is considered
+to be the most delicate flower of Urdu expression.
+
+MUSHAFI: belonged to a distinguished family of Amroha: lived at first
+at Lucknow, then went to Delhi: there he held famous literary reunions,
+at which gathered many poets of whom he was the inspirer and teacher.
+
+MUZTAR: born and educated at Lucknow: his ancestors occupied an
+honourable rank at Delhi: was a pupil of Mushafi.
+
+NASIKH: of Calcutta: belonged to the latter half of the 19th century:
+Deputy Magistrate and Member of the Legislative Council of Bengal.
+
+SAUDA: born at Delhi about 1720: a soldier by profession: much esteemed
+in his lifetime, and was a favourite at Court: excelled in all kinds
+of poetry, chiefly the ghazal, the qasidah, and satire.
+
+TABAN: of Delhi: as famous for his beauty as for his poetic talent:
+pupil of Hatim, and was a friend of Mazhar and Sauda: was descended
+from the Prophet on both father's and mother's side.
+
+WALI: of the Deccan, the first to write an Urdu Diwan: is considered
+the Father of Urdu poetry: born at Aurungabad, wrote in the latter
+half of the 17th century. He held a just balance between Sunnis and
+Shiahs, and did not flatter any Ruler in his verses. He knew the
+literature and art of Europe and wrote many mystical and spiritual
+poems.
+
+YAKRANG: one of the officers of the Emperor Muhammad Shah (r. 1719-48):
+lived in dignity and honour at Delhi.
+
+ZAHIR: a well-known modern poet, lived at Rampur at the Court of Nawab
+Kalbe Ali Khan, afterwards at the Court of the Nawab of Tonk, and
+finally at Hyderabad, in the literary circle of the Nizam, by whom
+he was much appreciated and rewarded.
+
+ZAUQ: a celebrated poet at the Court of Bahadur Shah (r. 1837-57):
+was his teacher in the arts of verse: compiler of an anthology Of poems:
+is said to have written one hundred thousand verses: is still highly
+popular and much quoted.
+
+ZAFAR: or Bahadur Shah, was the Padishah of Delhi, the last Mogul
+Emperor, and lived 1768-1862: son of Akbar II.: was over 60 years of
+age when he came to the throne: himself a poet and a good judge of
+music and painting, he gathered round him literary men and artists:
+of fine countenance and distinguished manners, and extremely loved
+and admired by his subjects: skilled in all kinds of poetry, and some
+of his ghazals continue to be popular: author of a voluminous Diwan,
+and a Commentary on the Gulistan of Saadi: a clever caligraphist, wrote
+with his own hand passages from the Koran for the ornamentation of
+the principal Mosque of Delhi. His son Dara was also a poet. At the
+Mutiny in 1857 he was taken prisoner and sent to Rangoon: there he
+continued to write verses, and died at an advanced age. His portrait,
+which forms the frontispiece to this book, is from a miniature kindly
+lent by the Indian Section of the Victoria and Albert Museum, South
+Kensington.
+
+J.D.W.
+Dulwich Village, London.
+October, 1918.
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+Thou tak'st no heed of me,
+I am as naught to thee;
+    Cruel Beloved, arise!
+Lovely and languid thou,
+Sleep still upon thy brow,
+    Dreams in thine eyes.
+From out thy garment flows
+Fragrance of many a rose--
+    Airs of delight
+Caught in the moonlit hours
+Lying among the flowers
+    Through the long night.
+Look on my face how pale!
+Will naught my love avail?
+    Naught my desire?
+Hold it as gold that is
+Cleansed of impurities
+    Tried in the fire.
+Pity my heart distrest,
+Caught by that loveliest
+    Tress of thine hair,
+So that I fear the shade
+Even by thine eyebrows made
+    O'er eyes so fair.
+
+ABRU.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+Thou, Sorrow, wilt keep and wilt cherish the memory of me
+    Long after my death,
+For thou dwelt at my heart, and my blood nourished thee,
+    Thou wert warmed by my breath.
+
+My heart has disgraced me by clamour and wailing for years
+    And tossing in pain,
+Mine eyes lost their honour by shedding these torrents of tears
+    Like fast-falling rain.
+
+O Wind of Disaster, destroy not the home of my heart
+    With the blasts of thine ire,
+For there I have kindled to burn in a chamber apart
+    My Lamp of Desire.
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+Had I control o'er her, the dear Tormentor,
+    Then might I rest;
+I cannot govern her, nor can I master
+    The heart within my breast.
+
+I cast myself upon the ground in anguish
+    Wounded and sore,
+Yet longed to have two hearts that she might pierce them,
+    That I might suffer more.
+
+Utterly from her heart hath she erased me,
+    No marks remain,
+So there shall be no grave from which my ashes
+    May greet her steps again.
+
+O cruel One, when once your glances smote me,
+    Why turn your head?
+It were more merciful to let their arrows
+    Pierce me and strike me dead.
+
+No tomb, Amir, could give my dust oblivion,
+    No rest was there:
+And when they told her I had died of sorrow,
+    She did not know--nor care.
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+This Life is less than shadows; if thou yearn
+    To know and find the God thou worshippest,
+From all the varying shows of being turn
+    To that true Life which is unmanifest.
+
+Beware, O travellers, dangerous is Life's Way
+    With lures that call, illusion that deceives,
+For set to snare the voyagers that stray
+    Are fortresses of robbers, lairs of thieves.
+
+The seer's eyes look on the cup of wine
+    And say--We need no more thy drunkenness;
+An exaltation that is more divine,
+    Another inspiration, we possess.
+
+O praise not peacock youth; it flits away
+    And leaves us but the ashes of regret,
+A disappointed heart, a memory,
+    An empty foolish pride that lingers yet.
+
+Upon the path, Amir, we journey far,
+    Weary the road where mankind wandereth;
+O tell me, does it lead through Life's bazar,
+    Or is it the dread gate and house of Death?
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+Here can my heart no longer rest;
+    It tells my happy destiny,
+Towards Medina lies my quest,
+    The Holy Prophet summons me.
+
+I should not marvel if for flight
+    Upon my shoulders wings should start,
+My body is so gay and light
+    With this new gladness in my heart.
+
+My weary patience nears its end;
+    Unresting heart, that yearns and loves,
+Convey me far to meet my friend
+    Within Medina's garden groves.
+
+My spirit shall not faint nor tire,
+    Although by many tender bands
+My country holds me, I desire
+    The journey through the desert sands.
+
+By day and night forever now
+    I burn in Love's hot furnace breath,
+Although there gather on my brow
+    The cold and heavy sweats of death.
+
+And ever in my home in Hind
+    At dawn's first light, at evenfall,
+I hear upon the desert wind
+    The Prophet of Arabia call.
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+The light is in mine eyes,
+Within my heart I feel Thy joy arise,
+From gate to inmost shrine
+This palace of my soul is utterly Thine.
+
+O longing seeking eyes,
+He comes to you in many a varied guise,
+If Him you cannot find
+The shame be yours, O eyes that are so blind.
+
+I as His mirror glow
+Bearing His image in my heart, and know
+That glowing clear in His
+The image of my heart reflected is.
+
+O drink the Wine of Love,
+And in the Assembly of Enlightened move,
+Let not the darkness dim
+Fall like a curtain 'twixt thy soul and Him.
+
+Who gives away his soul
+Forgets his petty self and wins the whole,
+Losing himself outright
+He finds himself in the Eternal Light.
+
+Crazy art thou, Amir,
+To wait before His gate in hope and fear;
+For never in thy pain
+Shall He yield up thy ravished heart again.
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+    How can I dare profess
+I am the lover whom Thou dost prefer!
+Thou art the essence of all loveliness,
+And I Thy very humblest worshipper.
+
+    Upon the Judgment Day
+So sweet Thy mercy shall to sinners prove,
+That envying them even the Saints shall say--
+Would we were sinners thus to know Thy love!
+
+    When in the quest for Thee
+The heart shall seek among the pious throng,
+Thy voice shall call--If Thou desirest me
+Among the sinners I have dwelt for long.
+
+    At the great Reckoning
+Mighty the wicked who before Thy throne
+Shall come for judgment; little can I bring,
+No store of good nor evil deeds I own.
+
+    Among the thorns am I
+A thorn, among the roses am a rose,
+Friend among friends in love and amity,
+    Foe among foes.
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+I shall not try to flee the sword of Death,
+    Nor fearing it a watchful vigil keep,
+It will be nothing but a sigh, a breath,
+    A turning on the other side to sleep.
+
+Through all the close entanglements of earth
+    My spirit shaking off its bonds shall fare
+And pass, and rise in new unfettered birth,
+    Escaping from this labyrinth of care.
+
+Within the mortal caravan-serai
+    No rest and no abiding place I know,
+I linger here for but a fleeting day,
+    And at the morrow's summoning I go.
+
+What are these bonds that try to shackle me?
+    Through all their intricate chains my way I find,
+I travel like a wandering melody
+    That floats untamed, untaken, on the wind.
+
+From an unsympathetic world I flee
+    To you, your love and fellowship I crave,
+O Singers dead, Sauda and Mushafi,
+    I lay my song as tribute on your grave.
+
+AMIR.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+Of no use is my pain to her nor me:
+For what disease is love the remedy?
+My heart that may not to her love attain
+Is humble, and would even crave disdain.
+O traitrous heart that my destruction sought
+And me to ruin and disaster brought!
+As, when the chain of life is snapt in twain,
+Never shall it be linked, so ne'er again
+My utterly broken heart shall be made whole.
+I cannot tear the Loved One from my soul,
+Nor can I leave my heart that clings to her.
+O Asif, am I not Love's minister!
+Who has such courage in Love's ways to dare!
+What heart like mine such bitterness can bear!
+
+ASIF.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+The eyes of the narcissus win new light
+    From gleams that in Thy rapturous eyes they trace,
+The flame is but a moth with fluttering flight
+    Drawn by the lovelier lustre of Thy face.
+
+This shifting House of Mirrors where we dwell
+      Under Thy charm a fairy palace seems:
+Who hath not fallen tangled in Thy spell
+    Beguiled by visions, wandering in dreams!
+
+The hearts of all Thy captive lovers stray
+    Hither and thither driven by whims of Thine,
+Sometimes within the Kaaba courts to pray,
+    Sometimes to worship at the Idols' Shrine.
+
+O Asif, thou hast known such grief and shame,
+    Shrinking beneath the cruel scourge of Love,
+That all the earth will hail thee with acclaim
+    As most courageous of the sons thereof.
+
+ASIF.
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+When shall the mocking world withhold its blame,
+    When shall men cease to darken thus my name,
+        Calling the love which is my pride, my shame!
+
+O Judge, let me my condemnation see;
+    Whose names are written on my death decree?--
+        The names of all who have been friends to me.
+
+What hope to reach the Well-Beloved's door,
+    The dear lost dwelling that I knew of yore;
+        I stumbled once; I can return no more.
+
+The joy of love no heart can feel alone,
+    The fire of love at first unseen, unknown,
+        In flames of love from either side is blown.
+
+O Asif, tread thy pathway carefully
+    Across this difficult world; for, canst thou see,
+        A further journey is awaiting thee.
+
+ASIF.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+I ask that God in justice punish me
+With death, if my love waver or grow less;
+    Faithful am I indeed--
+How can you comprehend such faithfulness?
+
+To you alone I offer up my heart,
+To any other what have I to give?
+    No light demand I make,
+What answer will you grant that I may live?
+
+If on the last dread Day of Reckoning
+I think of you, and in my heart there shine
+    The beauty of your face,
+God's Beatific Vision shall be mine.
+
+Once I had friends, now none are left to me;
+I see none else but you, because my heart
+    Has wholly fled to you,
+And thus I walk the ways of Earth apart.
+
+I, Asif, am the chief of sinners held,
+This dark dishonour will I not deny,
+    But glory in my shame;
+Where is another sinner such as I?
+
+ASIF.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+O changing Wheel of Fate, still let there last
+Before our eager eyes, still let there burn,
+This vision of the world; when we have passed
+    There shall be no return.
+
+I thought that, leaving thee, rest would be mine,
+My lost tranquillity I might regain,
+But separation brings no anodyne,
+    And kills me with its pain.
+
+How can I traffic in Love's busy mart?
+Thou hast won from me more than stores of gold;
+That I may bargain, give me back the heart
+    Thy cruel fingers hold.
+
+O heart desirous, in Love's perilous way
+Thy journey take and in his paths abide,
+And thou mayst find perchance, lest thou should stray,
+    Awaiting thee, a guide.
+
+DAGH.
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+    O Weaver of Excuses, what to thee
+Are all the promises that thou hast made,
+The truth derided, and the faith betrayed,
+        And all thy perfidy?
+
+    Sometimes thou sayest--Come at eventide:
+And when the evening falls, thou sayest--Dawn
+Was when I called thee. Even when night is gone
+        I wait unsatisfied.
+
+    When in thy haughty ear they did commend
+Me as the faithfullest of all thy train,
+Thou saidst--I hold such lovers in disdain,
+        I scoff at such a friend.
+
+    O Mischief-maker, passing-on thy way
+So lovely is thy mien, all creatures must
+Cry out--It is debarred to things of dust
+        To walk so winningly.
+
+    Why shouldst thou keep from tyranny anew?
+Why shouldst thou not betray another one?
+What matter if he die? Thou hast but done
+        What thou wast born to do.
+
+    Who cares not for his heart nor for his creed
+Is the idolater. His worthless name
+Is Dagh. O Fair Ones, look upon his shame!
+        He is disgraced indeed.
+
+DAGH.
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+
+Thy love permits not my complaint to rise,
+It reaches to my lips, and then it dies.
+Now, helpless heart, I cannot aid thee more,
+And thus for thee God's pity must implore.
+
+Seest thou not how much disgrace and pain
+The scornful world has heaped upon us twain,
+On thee for beauty and the sins thereof,
+On me for this infirmity of love.
+
+Oft-times she will not speak to me at all,
+Or if she deign to speak, the words that fall
+Cold from her haughty lips are words of blame:
+--I know thee not--I have not heard thy name!
+
+Deep in my memory was graved the trace
+Of all I suffered since I saw thy face;
+But now, Beloved, thou hast come to me,
+I have erased the record utterly.
+
+With empty hands all mortal men are whirled
+Through Death's grim gate into the other world:
+This is my pride that it is granted me
+To carry with me my desire for thee.
+
+They say when I complain of all I bore
+--It is thy kismet, what would'st thou have more?
+My rivals also bear thy tyranny,
+Saying--It is her custom and must be!
+
+DAGH.
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+
+I met you and the pain of separation was forgot,
+And all I should have kept in mind my heart remembered not.
+
+What cruelty and scorn I in your bitter letters knew!
+No love was there; O Gracious One, have you forgotten too?
+
+Strange is the journey that my soul by wanton Love was led,
+Two steps were straight and clear, and four forgotten were instead.
+
+There was some blundering o'er my fate at the Great Reckoning;
+You have forgot, O Keeper of the Record, many a thing.
+
+You took my heart, but left my life behind: O see you not
+What thing you have remembered, and what thing you have forgot?
+
+To meet Annihilation's sword is the most happy lot
+That man can gain, for all the joys of earth has he forgot.
+
+A Muslim on the path of Love beside a Kafir trod,
+And one forgot the Kaaba, one the Temple of his God.
+
+DAGH.
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+
+What happiness is to the lover left
+    Of peace bereft,
+What freedom for his captive heart remains
+    Held in her chains?
+
+Sometimes unto the mountain peaks he goes
+    Driven by his woes,
+Sometimes within the barren wilderness
+    Hides his distress.
+
+Curses on Love, and may his home disgraced
+    Be laid in waste!
+To me the world and all the joys I sought
+    Are less than naught.
+
+Gladly, O Executioner, to Death
+    I yield my breath;
+And only wonder who shall after me
+    Thy victim be!
+
+FIGHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+
+If you should meet the Loved One as you stray,
+O give my letter secretly to her,
+    Then haste away
+And do not tell my name, O Messenger.
+
+O Morning Winds that from the garden blow,
+Should you meet one like me forlorn and sad,
+    On him bestow
+The peace and solace I have never had.
+
+O Eyes that weep and weep unsatisfied,
+That shed such floods, yet never find relief,
+    O stem your tide
+Lest you should drown the world in seas of grief.
+
+She need not have one anxious doubt of me,
+She need not fear my further wanderings--
+    How can I flee?
+How can a bird escape, deprived of wings?
+
+FIGHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+
+How difficult is the thorny way of strife
+That man hath stumbled in since time began,
+And in the tangled business of this life
+How difficult to play the part of man.
+
+When She decrees there should exist no more
+My humble cottage, through its broken walls,
+And cruelly drifting in the open door,
+The frozen rain of desolation falls.
+
+O mad Desire, why dost thou flame and burn
+And bear my Soul further and further yet
+To the Beloved; then, why dost thou turn
+To bitter disappointment and regret?
+
+Such light there gleams from the Beloved's face
+That every eye becomes her worshipper,
+And every mirror, looking on her grace,
+Desires to be the frame enclosing her.
+
+Unhappy lovers, slaves of cruel chance,
+In this grim place of slaughter strange indeed
+Your joy to see unveiled her haughty glance
+That flashes like the scimitar of Ede.
+
+When I had hardly drawn my latest breath,
+Pardon she asked for killing me. Alas,
+How soon repentance followed on my death,
+How quick her unavailing sorrow was!
+
+GHALIB.
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+
+I grant you will not utterly forget,
+I hold you not unheeding and unjust,
+    But ere you hear my prayer
+I shall be dead and turned to senseless dust.
+
+How little can one eager sigh attain
+To touch thine icy heart to tenderness!
+    Who can live long enough
+To win the beauty of thy curling tress?
+
+GHALIB.
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+
+The high ambition of the drop of rain
+Is to be merged in the unfettered sea;
+My sorrow when it passed all bounds of pain,
+Changing, became itself the remedy.
+
+Behold how great is my humility!
+Under your cruel yoke I suffered sore;
+Now I no longer feel thy tyranny
+I hunger for the pain that then I bore.
+
+Why did the fragrance of the flowers outflow
+If not to breathe with benediction sweet
+Across her path? Why did the soft wind blow
+If not to kiss the ground before her feet?
+
+GHALIB.
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+
+I had a thousand desires, for each of them I would have died,
+    And what did I gain?
+So many indeed are fulfilled, but how many beside
+    Insatiate remain!
+
+We have known of the tale of how Adam to exile was driven;
+    More shameful in truth
+Is my fate to be cast from the garden more favoured than Heaven
+    Where she walks in her youth.
+
+That living and dying in love are but one I have proved,
+    This only know I
+That I live by the sight of the beauty of her the Beloved
+    For whom I would die.
+
+GHALIB.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+
+How long will she thus stand unveiled before me,
+Shrinking and shy in maidenly distress,
+How long, my dazzled eyes, can ye contemplate
+    Her blinding loveliness!
+
+No rest is for my heart by love tormented,
+It cannot even win the peace of death;
+How long shall it endure with resignation
+    The pain it suffereth!
+
+Like shifting shadows come the great and mighty,
+And live their splendid day, and hurry past;
+And who can tell how long the changing pageant
+    Of fleeting life shall last!
+
+O look on me, unhappy Asif, driven
+As dust before the wind across the street;
+How long has Love ordained that I should suffer
+    Beneath the passing feet.
+
+GHALIB.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+THE WIDOW.
+
+
+I call on Death, for Life is my distress,
+And I myself a load of weariness
+Weighing upon myself. Helpless am I;
+Dared I to weep, then never would run dry
+The fountains of my grief: I cannot speak:
+Even the occupation that I seek
+Goads me and wearies me. A jungle drear
+This world and all its moving crowds appear,
+And I the loneliest of all things on Earth,
+Yea, lonely in the household of my birth.
+Tired am I of my suffering through the years,
+Even as mine eyes are wearied of their tears.
+Spring comes again and brings the cooling breeze,
+And Autumn with the rain among the trees,
+Fair Summer with its moonlit nights of gold,
+And Winter with its sweet and gentle cold;
+These come and go, with morn and even-fall,
+How can I tell how I have passed them all?
+    Well, I have borne them all!
+
+Hope gleamed awhile, but fled unsatisfied,
+The flower sprang up, but drooped and fruitless died:
+The silver bow of Ede shone above all,
+But never came the looked-for Festival:
+I saw the splendour of the season wane,
+Never the benediction of the rain
+Fell on my parched heart: the thunder loud
+Pealed from the bosom of the darkened cloud,
+But never came the long-desired rain:
+I sought the fruit upon the tree in vain,
+The thorn smote deep into my heart instead:
+Across the desert wastes of sands I sped
+Seeing the silver watercourses gleam,
+But it was all a vision and a dream,
+And thirsting in the desert I was left
+    Lone and bereft.
+
+HALI.
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+
+Like silver torrents flow thy words to me,
+But ah--I have no voice to answer thee.
+
+My heart thy words have burnt with whips of fire,
+Do they not burn thy lips, O Heart's Desire?
+
+Thy promises are broken every day,
+Yet--See my faithfulness!--I hear you say.
+
+Candle-like wastes my body all these days
+My flame-like tongue endures to sing thy praise.
+
+O Hasan, I have spoke and sighed and sung,
+Yet never from my heart my tale was wrung,
+My secret grief can never find a tongue.
+
+HASAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+
+I cannot rise to follow her,
+    Here in the dust is my abode,
+For I am but her foot-print left
+    Lying forgotten in the road.
+
+Where are repose and patience gone?
+    Where is my honour, held so fair?
+All these are naught to me--I dwell
+    In the black chambers of Despair!
+
+INSHA.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+
+How can I win that Hidden One
+    Who sits within the secret place?
+For even in my very dreams
+    She wears the veil upon her face.
+
+What heart is there in all the world
+    Can bear thy cruel tyranny?
+Keep then this broken heart of mine
+    That thus thou mayst remember me!
+
+JURAT.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+
+What kind of comforter art thou to me?
+What help and solace in calamity?
+No wound is there upon my bruised heart
+But thou hast touched to make it sting and smart!
+
+But yet, Beloved One, I ask in pain
+When is the hour when thou wilt come again?
+My soul cries out to thee in bitter need
+--When wilt thou come--or wilt thou come indeed?
+
+O Saki, do not pass my goblet by,
+Although the feast is spread its lip is dry.
+Be careful, O my tears, lest you should tell
+The world my secret that you know too well.
+
+O Sorrow, in thy tangled paths I go,
+The Kaaba's gateway I no longer know,
+But bend my head wherever I see rise
+The arch that curves o'er the Beloved's eyes.
+
+MIR.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+
+    To whom shall I relate
+The weary story of my sorrowful love?
+    O Friend, this is my fate,
+This is the record of the pain thereof.
+
+    I prayed in vain to her;
+She said--You weary me, I hear thy prayer,
+    It is thy messenger,
+But when it pleads with me I do not care.
+
+    I said--Never again
+Canst thou forget my faithfulness to thee;
+    She answered in disdain
+--What mean thy love and faithfulness to me?
+
+    Life called to me
+Telling me earth is full of hope and bliss,
+    Now undeceived I see
+How foolish I to seek a world like this.
+
+MIR SOZ.
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+
+Even in the Kaaba courts my heart was moved,
+Brooding upon the idol that I loved,
+Mourning its loss. Now like a bird am I,
+That painted in a picture cannot fly
+Nor move nor sing; my heart is so outworn
+With all the lingering sorrow I have borne.
+Within my heart thy presence I have felt,
+Within mine eyes, Beloved, thou hast dwelt
+For long long days. Who taught thee for a shrine
+To choose a heart so desolate as mine?
+Long time I told my friends my bitter grief,
+And in the telling sought to find relief;
+In silence now instead I take my rest,
+And find that peace and loneliness are best.
+
+MIR TAQI.
+
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+
+Wherever the Beloved looks she stirs
+    Trouble and longing sore and eager breath
+And deep desire in all her worshippers,
+    And some for her have drunk the cup of Death.
+
+O Night of Separation, darkest night
+    Of deepest grief, thy cruelty shall cease;
+To-morrow I shall greet the dawning light
+    Within the city of Eternal Peace.
+
+O threatening Whirlwind rolling on thy way,
+    I shall unloose thy knot, if thou but dare
+With angry gusts to toss and disarray
+    A single curl of the Beloved's hair.
+
+Sometimes her beauty goads and maddens me,
+    I cannot bear her cruel loveliness,
+But turn her mirror that she may not see;
+    Why should I let her double my distress?
+
+Hearken, O Momin, all thy life is done!
+    In idol-worship at the Temple thou
+Hast spent thy days, and thus thy years have run:
+    How canst thou call thyself a Muslim now?
+
+MOMIN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+
+I, like a wandering bubble,
+    Am blown here and there
+Shifting and changing and fashioned
+    Of water and air.
+
+Thou turnest thy face, O Beloved,
+    I cannot tell why,
+Art thou shy of a mirror, Beloved?
+    Thy mirror am I!
+
+When over her face she unloosened
+    The dusk of her hair,
+What need had the world of the cloud-wreaths,
+    They fled in despair.
+
+MUSHAFI.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+
+No man hath ever passed
+    Into the Country of Eternal Rest
+        With every longing stilled.
+Who hath not lingering cast
+    Long looks behind, and in his eager breast
+        Held many a secret yearning unfulfilled?
+
+Ah, Mushafi, to thee
+    Silence and thought in solitude are best,
+        For thou hast known
+That laurel crowns are idle vanity;
+    There is no worldly rank thou covetest,
+        And what to thee is Suleiman's high throne?
+
+MUSHAFI.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+
+Where has my childhood gone, where are its placid years?
+For cruel youth hath brought passion and bitter tears.
+
+To the Creator now I from the dust complain--
+Beauty, the thing he made, brings with it only pain.
+
+Long I desired and dreamed, waiting with eager breath,
+But ere she came to me, Fate sent the sleep of Death.
+
+To God as servitor I my devotion gave,
+Now Love hath taken me, bound me to be his slave.
+
+I, Muztar, die with grief, yearning unsatisfied,
+Still hangs the purdah's fold I cannot draw aside,
+Nor lift the needless veil woven of shame and pride.
+
+MUZTAR.
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+
+The fire of love I for my idol know
+    Within my bosom hides,
+As in the mountain 'neath its crust of snow
+    The flame abides.
+
+Long have I yearned in vain to kiss her feet,
+    I lay my weary head
+Down in the dust, that thus my lips may greet
+    Where she may tread.
+
+No wealth have I, but like the moth I live:
+    Since love demands a price,
+I, like the moth, have but my life to give
+    In sacrifice.
+
+How has my bird-like soul been stricken low,
+    Pierced to the very heart!
+My love has used instead of bolt and bow
+    A deadlier dart.
+
+NASIKH.
+
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+
+The wound upon my heart glows bright and clear
+    With such a steady and unwavering light
+That in the darkness I shall have no fear
+    And need no lamp to guide my steps aright.
+
+When of the darkness of the grave I hear,
+    The night of death, and all the pangs thereof,
+I reck not, for one thing alone I fear--
+    The night of separation from my Love.
+
+NASIKH.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+
+Shall I or shall I not console my heart
+    And win relief?
+Or shall I sit in solitude apart
+    Nursing my grief?
+
+O hear, while of my life now nearly done
+    Some sparks remain!
+Soon I may be, who knows, O Cruel One,
+    Speechless with pain.
+
+How can I to the fisher speak my thought?
+    Her snares are set,
+My fish-like heart is by her lashes caught,
+    As in a net.
+
+Look on my sorrowful mien, O Love, and tell
+    My hopelessness,
+None of the manifold troubles that befell
+    Can I express.
+
+Fair is the garden, Sauda, to thy view,
+    More fair appears
+Her dwelling; let me all its ways bedew
+    With happy tears.
+
+SAUDA.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+
+I am no singer rapt in ecstasy,
+Nor yet a sighing listener am I,
+I am the nightingale that used to sing
+In joy, but now am mute, remembering.
+
+I know the drop within the ocean hides,
+But know not in what place my soul abides:
+I cannot read the hidden mystery--
+Whence came I, whither go I, what am I.
+
+My friends have paid due reverence at my grave,
+And held my dust as sacred, for I gave
+My humble life to the Beloved's sword,
+Killed by her beauty, martyred by her word.
+
+I deemed life was tranquillity and rest,
+I find it but a never-ending quest;
+And I, who sat in quietude and peace,
+Toil on a journey that shall never cease.
+
+SHAMSHAD.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+
+Repent not, for repentance is in vain,
+    And what is done is done;
+What shouldst thou reck of me and all my pain?
+    For what is done is done.
+
+They said to her--Behold him, he is dead!
+    How did he lose his life, unhappy one?
+--O bury him deep in the grave, she said,
+    For what is done is done.
+
+This is the pain of love that I have caught,
+    And what is done is done;
+A thousand remedies avail me naught,
+    And what is done is done.
+
+For love I gave the honour of my name,
+    And Good and Evil are to me as one;
+Let all the world chastise me with its blame,
+    For what is done is done.
+
+The dust of Taban we could find no more,
+    But yet nor rest nor respite hath he won;
+His breath, his soul, floats round thee as before,
+    And--what is done is done.
+
+TABAN.
+
+
+
+
+XL.
+
+
+O Lovely One, when to the ravished sight
+Thou wilt unveil that radiant face of thine,
+Each atom of the worlds, catching thy light,
+Reflecting thee, bright as a sun shall shine.
+
+Walk not, my flower, within the garden close,
+Lest thou should give the bulbul new distress;
+For at thy glance each blossom turns a rose
+To lure him with her cruel loveliness.
+
+Victorious One, thou hast unsheathed thy sword,
+The scimitar of thy beauty gleams again,
+So over all thy lovers thou art Lord,
+Holding dominion in the hearts of men.
+
+Art thou serene and calm and unafraid
+When thou considerest thy tyranny?
+Think of the reckoning that shall be made
+Between thy heart and mine at Judgment Day.
+
+WALI.
+
+
+
+
+XLI.
+
+
+O ask not frigid Piety to dwell
+    In the same house with Youth and warm Desire;
+It were as idle as if one should tell
+    Water to be a comrade of the Fire.
+
+O say not only that the Loved One left
+    My lonely heart, and fled beyond recall;
+But I of rest and patience am bereft,
+    And losing Her I am deprived of all.
+
+Take heed, O Hunter, though within thy net
+    Thou hold this bird, my soul, with many bands,
+I struggle sore, for Freedom lures me yet,
+    And may escape from out thy cruel hands.
+
+YAKRANG.
+
+
+
+
+XLII.
+
+
+Thou shouldst have given to me the robe and crown
+    And made me king of kings,
+Or dressed me in the tattered darwesh gown,
+    Poorest of earthly things.
+
+O that I were thy fool to do thy will,
+    Simple and led by thee!
+What meaning have my knowledge and my skill,
+    They have no worth to me.
+
+Lo, thou hast made me as the dust that flies
+    Unheeded in the street,
+O were I that which in her pathway lies,
+    Trodden beneath her feet!
+
+My heart is as it were to fringes shred,
+    Such wounds it had to bear;
+Would that it were the comb, to touch her head,
+    To tend her perfumed hair!
+
+Long have I known that it was thy design
+    To burn my soul outright;
+O may at least the happy fate be mine
+    To be the Tavern light!
+
+ZAFAR.
+
+
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+
+Mine eyes were shut
+    And yet I saw the shining vision gleam;
+Now that mine eyes are opened, know I not
+    Was it a thought that held me--or a dream?
+
+Long to myself I said--It will be well,
+    When I can see her, I will tell my pain:
+Now she is here, what is there left to tell?
+    No griefs remain.
+
+Faithless she is to me, and pitiless,
+    Despotic and tyrannical she is,
+I looked for love, I looked for tenderness,
+    I leant on vain impossibilities.
+
+I listened to thy voice that stole to me
+    Across the curtain where thou satst apart,
+Desire came like a restless ecstasy,
+    A sorcery that fell upon my heart.
+
+When I had burst my prison, and was free,
+    I saw no fetters held me, and I found,
+O Zafar, that these chains that shackle me
+    Are ties of self wherewith my soul is bound.
+
+ZAFAR.
+
+
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+
+I care not if no rest nor peace remain,
+I have my cherished pain,
+I have my rankling love that knows no end,
+And need no other friend.
+I yearned with all my heart to hold her fast,
+She laughed, and fled, and passed!
+Lakhs of enchantments, scores of spells I wove,
+But useless was my love.
+I would have given my life to make her stay,
+She went away, away, she went away.
+Though I effaced myself in deed and thought
+And brought myself to naught,
+The dark and sundering curtain hangs between
+I cannot pierce the screen.
+And still I know behind the veil she hides,
+    And naught besides
+In all this changing Universe abides!
+
+ZAFAR.
+
+
+
+
+XLV.
+
+
+That I should find her after weary years,
+And that mine eyes should keep from happy tears,--
+    That is not possible, this is not possible.
+
+If she should come after these many days,
+And if my wondering eyes forget to gaze--
+    That is not possible, this is not possible.
+
+Sometimes I long to kiss my idol's face,
+Sometimes to clasp her in my wild embrace--
+    That is not possible, this is not possible.
+
+How can I let her seek my rival's door,
+How can I bear the friends I loved before--
+    That is not possible, this is not possible.
+
+O Zafar, does she bid me to return,
+And dare I, for I tremble and I burn--
+    That is not possible, this is not possible.
+
+ZAFAR.
+
+
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+
+Whence did the yearning of the soul arise,
+The longing to attain the Heavenly Sight?
+    Before what mortal eyes
+Was manifested the Eternal Light?
+
+When the soul understands and wakes to find
+Thou hast within the heart of man Thy throne,
+    It sees how arrogant and blind
+The self that but its mortal self hath known.
+
+Thou and I also were the seer and seen,
+When none beside existed. Thou and I
+    Have Lover and Beloved been
+Before this era of mortality.
+
+How strange the turns in Love's unending game,
+For neither Lover nor Beloved lit
+    The ever-burning flame:
+Whence was the spirit that enkindled it?
+
+The road that leads where pious pilgrims bow
+In Kaaba or in Temple, Thou hast laid;
+    And first of all wert Thou
+To tread the road that thou Thyself hadst made.
+
+ZAHIR.
+
+
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+
+Thy beauty flashes like a sword
+    Serene and keen and merciless;
+But great as is thy cruelty,
+    Even greater is thy loveliness.
+
+It is the gift of God to thee
+    This beauty rare and exquisite;
+Why dost thou hide it thus from me,
+    I shall not steal nor sully it.
+
+And as thy beauty shines, in Heaven
+    There climbs upon its path of fire
+The star that lights my rival's way,
+    And with it mounts his heart's desire.
+
+Even in thy house is jealousy,
+    Thy youth demands the lover's praise
+Over thy beauty, which itself
+    Is jealous of thy gracious ways.
+
+I died with joy when winningly
+    I heard the Well-Beloved call--
+Zahir, where is my beauty gone,
+    Thou must have robbed me after all.
+
+ZAHIR.
+
+
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+
+O Tyrannous One, when from my heart was drawn
+    The fatal arrow, like a scarlet flood
+My life gushed forth; but yet the one word Hope
+    Was written in my blood.
+
+Why should the Cosmos turn its wheel of worlds
+    If not to search for thee eternally?
+Why should the tireless Sun arise each morn
+    If not to look for thee?
+
+Alas my fate! before you came to me
+    Already had I felt the touch of Death,
+Nor was I spared before thy worshipped feet
+    To offer up my breath.
+
+For long, throughout the world, I sought for thee,
+    Through weary years and ages of unrest;
+At last I found thee hidden in my arms
+    Within my breast!
+
+ZAUQ.
+
+
+
+
+FRAGMENTS.
+
+
+
+
+Each morn I see the Sun in majesty
+    Come back to shine thy rival as before,
+But O what ages has it taken thee
+    To come to me--if thou wilt come--once more!
+
+ARZU.
+
+
+
+
+Through Love did I the joy of life attain,
+    And walking in the way that He hath led
+I found the remedy to heal all pain;
+    Why therefore is my pain unremedied?
+
+GHALIB.
+
+
+
+
+O burnish well the mirror of thy heart
+    And make it fair,
+If thou desire the image of thy Love
+    To shine reflected there.
+
+HATIM.
+
+
+
+
+No fault is thine, Beloved, I do not blame thee,
+Nor do I blame my rivals for their part,
+I know my trouble causeless, yet I hearken
+To my unreasonable, doubting heart.
+
+MAZHAR.
+
+
+
+
+What thou hast done, never an enemy
+Would practise on a bitterly-hated foe;
+    And yet, my friend,
+I took thee for a friend, and did not know.
+
+MAZHAR.
+
+
+
+
+    Mayhap my sorrowful heart
+Did not deserve thou shouldst bestow on me
+Thy priceless love, but neither did it merit
+    Thy cruel tyranny.
+
+MAZHAR.
+
+
+
+
+She lightly laughed--And so is Mazhar dead?
+Alas, poor helpless one! I knew not I
+What was his trouble.--Then again she said
+--I did not think him ill enough to die.
+
+MAZHAR.
+
+
+
+
+If I behold her, I am mad,
+And if I see her not, I die;
+O Love, to tender hearts like mine
+Thou art a great calamity.
+
+MAZHAR.
+
+
+
+
+I ask for Allah's pardon, if I dare
+    To weigh and criticise what He hath done;
+But when He made thy beauty shining fair,
+    What need was there for Him to make the Sun?
+
+MIR DARD.
+
+
+
+
+In spring, O Bulbul, go not in thy grief
+    To seek the garden, wandering apart;
+    But wait--one day within thy very heart
+It shall arise, in bud and bloom and leaf.
+
+MIR SOZ.
+
+
+
+
+    Some friend of mine, may be,
+After my lonely death may let her see
+How foolish were her idle doubts of me;
+But no! how can I think the rolling Wheel of Fate
+Should turn to favour one so long unfortunate?
+
+MIR TAQI.
+
+
+
+
+I, like a poor fakir,
+Wander from door to door,
+Bearing my load of pain;
+But thou, O Ever-Dear,
+Thou comest never more
+Unto my door again.
+
+SAUDA.
+
+
+
+O changing Wheel of Fate, what thing is there
+Thou hast not in thy myriad cycles brought!
+Wilt thou, indeed, I wonder in despair,
+Bring me at last what I so long have sought?
+
+SAUDA.
+
+
+
+
+I longed that the Beloved might come to me,
+Or Patience come and in my heart remain;
+But neither came, and now at last I see
+The only constant friend I have is Pain.
+
+TABAN.
+
+
+
+
+False is she, breaker of all promises,
+    The heart's unending malady is she;
+    All this and more she is,
+And she herself the only remedy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Only in visions can I come again
+To the Beloved, and a shade she seems;
+My lips desire in vain
+The touch of ghostly kisses,
+The shadowy kisses that I know in dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+O kind imagination, thou hast given
+    Eyes to my heart, and though She veil her grace
+Fold behind fold, they seek the hidden heaven,
+    They find the secret beauties of her face.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+I did not weep until my heart was lost,
+    So strange the bartering of love appears,
+I gave the shining jewel of my soul
+    To buy these pearls--my tears.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+The eyes say in reproach, O wayward heart,
+What road of ruin hast thou led us in!
+The heart complains, O eyes,
+Beguiled yourselves, ye lured me into sin.
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARY.
+
+
+Bazar--market place.
+
+Bulbul--nightingale.
+
+Darwesh--devotee, dervish.
+
+Diwan--collection of poems.
+
+Ede--festival.
+
+Fakir--an ascetic in Islam.
+
+Ghazal--ode: form of verse written in couplets, all in one rhyme.
+
+Hind, Hindustan--Upper India, north of the Vindhya Hills.
+
+Islam--The religion of Muslims: lit. absolute surrender to Allah
+alone.
+
+Kaaba--central sanctuary of Islam, at Mecca, holy city of Islam.
+
+Kafir--unbeliever, one who is not a Muslim.
+
+Kismet--fate.
+
+Lakh--100,000: myriad.
+
+Masnawi--epic poem, written in rhymed couplets.
+
+Mecca, Medina--sacred places of Islam, in Arabia: the birthplace and
+burial place of Muhammad.
+
+Muhammad--the Prophet of Islam (A.D. 570-632).
+
+Mushaira--poetical concourse (see Foreword p. 1.).
+
+Muslim--or Musulman; lit. one surrendered to Allah alone.
+
+Prophet--see Muhammad.
+
+Purdah--curtain.
+
+Qasidah--elegy or eulogy.
+
+Saki--the cup-bearer, wine-giver.
+
+Sufi--see Foreword, p. 2.
+
+Suleiman--Solomon, King of the Jews: in Muslim legend lord over angels
+and demons.
+
+Takhallus--pen-name.
+
+Urdu--see Foreword, p. 3.
+
+
+
+
+Works on Sufism.
+
+
+A SUFI MESSAGE OF SPIRITUAL LIBERTY,
+WITH A SHORT SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR'S LIFE AND HIS PORTRAIT IN COLOURS.
+2/6 net.
+
+THE MYSTICISM OF SOUND,
+OR THE PHENOMENA OF VIBRATIONS,
+WITH THE PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR IN COLOURS.
+5/- net.
+
+THE DIWAN OF INAYAT KHAN,
+RENDERED INTO VERSE BY JESSIE DUNCAN WESTBROOK,
+WITH THE PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR IN COLOURS.
+2/6 net.
+
+THE CONFESSIONS OF INAYAT KHAN,
+BY REGINA MIRIAM BLOCH.
+1/- net.
+
+SONGS OF INDIA,
+RENDERED FROM THE URDU, HINDI AND PERSIAN BY INAYAT KHAN AND JESSIE
+DUNCAN WESTBROOK.
+1/6 net.
+
+SUFISM: OMAR KHAYYAM AND E. FITZGERALD,
+BY C. H. A. BJERREGAARD.
+2/6 net.
+
+HINDUSTANI LYRICS,
+BY INAYAT KHAN AND JESSIE DUNCAN WESTBROOK.
+2/6 net.
+
+MERAJ, THE TRANSPORTATION OF MOHAMMED,
+BY INAYAT KHAN.
+2/6 net.
+
+PHENOMENON OF SOUL
+("VOICE OF INAYAT" SERIES), BY SHERIFA LUCY GOODENOUGH.
+2/6 net.
+
+LOVE, HUMAN AND DIVINE
+("VOICE OF INAYAT" SERIES), BY SHERIFA LUCY GOODENOUGH.
+2/6 net.
+
+AKIBAT, LIFE AFTER DEATH
+("VOICE OF INAYAT" SERIES), BY SHERIFA LUCY GOODENOUGH.
+2/6 net.
+
+THE SUFI,
+A QUARTERLY MAGAZINE
+DEVOTED TO MYSTICISM, RELIGION, PHILOSOPHY, LITERATURE AND MUSIC.
+6d. net, 2/6 a year post free.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SUFI PUBLISHING SOCIETY, LTD.,
+86, LADBROKE ROAD, LONDON, W. 11.
+
+
+
+
+
+
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