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KHUSRAU, Amir

I don't know what place it was where I was last night,

Everywhere there was the dance of the sacrificed, where I was last night.

A fairy-like beloved with cypress-like stature and tulip-like face,

From head to toe, a torment to the heart, was where I was last night.

The rivals were listening to her voice, in her grace, I was afraid,

How difficult it was to speak, where I was last night.

God Himself was the Master of Ceremonies in that placeless realm, O Khusrau,

And Muhammad was the candle of the assembly, where I was last night.

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Do not overlook the state of this humble one, by turning away your eyes and making excuses;

I have no patience for this separation, O beloved, why do you not embrace me?

The nights of separation are long like (your) tresses, and the day of union is short like life,

O friend, if I do not see my beloved, how shall I pass these dark nights?

Suddenly, those two magical eyes stole peace from my heart with a thousand charms,

Who cares enough to go and tell my dear beloved my plight?

Like a burning candle, like a bewildered particle, I have at last wandered in the love of that moon-faced one,

No sleep in my eyes, no peace in my body, neither does she come, nor does she send any message.

By the right of the day of meeting the beloved, who has afflicted this poor Khusrau,

I will sacrifice my wealth, if I can just reach the beloved's abode.

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…..
Is this an earthly occurrence or has a disaster appeared from the sky?

Is this a calamity or has the day of judgment appeared to the world?

The flood of iniquity has reached the foundations of the world

Through the crack that appeared in India this year.

The assembly of friends is scattered like flower petals by the wine,

It seems that the season of autumn has appeared in the garden.
…..


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He visits my town once a year.

He fills my mouth with kisses and nectar.

I spend all my money on him.

Who, girl, your man?

No, a mango.

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The yellow mustard is blooming in every field,

The yellow mustard is blooming in every field,

Mango buds are clicking open, other flowers too;

The koyal chirps from branch to branch,

And the maiden tries her make-up,

The gardener-girls have brought bouquets.

Colourful flowers of all kinds,

In hands everyone’s bringing;

But Aashiq-rung (the lover), who had promised to come

To Nizamuddin’s house in spring,

Hasn’t turned up – it’s been years.

The yellow mustard is blooming in every field.


Chaap Tilak

You've taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance.

By making me drink the wine of love-potion,

You've intoxicated me by just a glance;

My fair, delicate wrists with green bangles in them,

Have been held tightly by you with 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, Nijam,

You've made me your bride, by just a glance.

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I have become you, and you me,

I am the body, you soul;

So that no one can say hereafter,

That you are someone, and me someone else.

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Persian poem

I am a pagan and a worshipper of love: the ( Muslim ) creed I do not need;

Every vein of mine has become taunt like a wire,

the (Brahman's) girdle I do not need.

Leave from my bedside, you ignorant physician!

The only cure for the patient of love is the sight of his beloved -

other than this no medicine does he need.

If there be no pilot in our boat, let there be none:

We have god in our midst: the sea we do not need.

The people of the world say that Khusrau worships idols.

So he does, so he does; the people he does not need,

the world he does not need.


Dear Father

Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?

You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,

And to me, a foreign land? Why dear father, why?

We (daughters) are just cows tied to your peg,

Will move on to where ever you drive us to, dear father.

We are just flower-buds of your garden,

And are asked for, in every household, dear father.

We are just birds from your cage,

Will fly off when its dawn again, dear father.

I've left at home, alcoves full of dolls;

And parted from my buddies too, dear father.

When my palanquin passed beneath the terrace,

My brother fainted and fell, dear father.

As I remove the curtain from the palanquin,

I see we've reached the beloved's house, dear father.

Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?


What A Glow Everywhere I See

What a glow everywhere I see, Oh mother, what a glow;

I've found the beloved, yes I found him,

In my courtyard;

I have found my pir Nizamuddin Aulia.

I roamed around the entire world,

looking for an ideal beloved;

And finally this face has enchanted my heart.

The whole world has been opened for me,

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.


Rains Have Come

Dear Mom, send my dad across; the rainy season has come.

Oh, dear daughter, how can I?

Your dad's too old; the rainy season has come.

Dear Mom, send my brother across; the rainy season has come.

Oh, dear daughter, how can I?

Your brother's too young; the rainy season has come.

Dear Mom, send my uncle across; the rainy season has come.

Oh, dear daughter, how can I?

Your uncle's too dandy; the rainy season has come.

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

Ghazal 917

What use is spring without your rose-coloured cheek?

Your coming to me once comes out better

than a dozen springs. Were the plodding rose

to mount a zephyr and ride off at a gallop,

you would still leave it behind in a cloud of dust.

The image of your face abandons my eyes

so it won’t prick its feet on my eyelashes’

sharp thorns. Your bewitching eyes have left me

as thin as a strand of your hair, the single

strand they need to cast their magic spells.

He moves like a rider coming from the hunt

with a clutch of prey

hanging from the stirrups of his curls.


Ghazal 1034

I do not know where they went, those

who once were friends. What day was it,

O Lord, when they abandoned us?
If spring comes, and asks after them,
tell the zephyr, ‘All those flowers
are turned to grass,’ and ask the flower
when it pokes out from the earth
how those faces look that now are gone
deep beneaththe dust of death.

Gaze upon those leaders now,
once the crown on creation’s head
Those motes of dust that disappear
like all things into thin air once
were suns that set below the earth.
Deceived by the world’s enchantments,
they laid all their treasures aside
and went in pursuit of alchemy.

The wares of time are playthings,
childish distractions. The captives
of its charms have no sense at all.
No surprise if they all did not get
the cash they craved: Fate’s treasurers
are bankrupt, flat broke.
Khusrau, flee. In a faithless world
expect no trust from a people
as untrue as the world itself.


Ghazal 1124

You took the life from my body
and still you dwell in my soul.
You inflicted such pain, yet still

you are the cure. You cleft my breast
for everyone to see,
yet still you lurk there hidden.

With ire's sword you laid waste
the kingdom of the heart, yet still
you rule, sultan among the ruins.

You've set your price at the value
of both worlds. Raise it higher,
for this price is still too low.

…..

Like salt, I dissolved with tears,
yet your smile remains
as sweet as sugar still.

My soul is freed from the bonds
of its hovel, yet my heart languishes
still captive in your curling locks.

Old age and the worship of young
beauties sort together ill. How long yet,
Khusrau, will you be unsettled still?


Ghazal 1850

My fortunes woke when you slept with me.

You did not sleep in my embrace

but in my shining eyes. Restlessly

you flit about, yet in the sleepless eyes

of your friend, you slept like a friend

to strike our enemies blind.

One night,

you'll recall, we were both in the garden:

me in the brambles and thorns,

you sleeping amidst flowers and roses.

A cause to celebrate! Khusrau

perceived you so fully that you slept

all night with him, arms around his neck.


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Rejoice, my love, rejoice,

It’s spring here, rejoice.

Bring out your lotions and toiletries,

And decorate your long hair.

Oh, you’re still enjoying your sleep, wake-up.

Even your destiny has woken up,

Its spring here, rejoice.

You snobbish lady with arrogant looks,

The King Amir is here to see you;

Let your eyes meet his,

Oh my love, rejoice;

It’s spring here again.


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You've taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance.

By making me drink the wine of love-potion,

You've intoxicated me by just a glance;

My fair, delicate wrists with green bangles in them,

Have been held tightly by you with 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, Nijam,

You've made me your bride, by just a glance.

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Dye me in your hue, my love,

You are my man, oh beloved of Almighty;

Dye me in your hue.

My scarf, and the beloved’s turban,

Both need to be dyed in the hue of spring;

Whatever be the price for dyeing, ask for it,

You can have my blossoming youth in mortgage;

Dye me in your hue.

I have come and fallen at your door step,

For you to safeguard my pride, my dignity,

You are my man, Oh beloved of Almighty,

Dye me in your hue.

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Tonight there came a news that you, oh beloved, would come –

Be my head sacrificed to the road along which you will come riding!

All the gazelles of the desert have put their heads on their hands

In the hope that one day you will come to hunt them….

The attraction of love won’t leave you unmoved;

Should you not come to my funeral,

you’ll definitely come to my grave.

My soul has come on my lips (e.g. I am on the point of expiring);

Come so that I may remain alive –

After I am no longer – for what purpose will you come?