Recital: Agha Bashir Ahmad Faridi Qawwal
Poetry: Dr. Muhammad Iqbal
Meri Nawaon Mein Hai Mere Jigar Ka Lahoo
Sohbat-e-Ahl-e-Safa, Noor-o-Huzoor-o-Suroor
Sur Khush-o-Pursouz Hai Lala Lab-e-Abjoo
Rah-e-Mohabbat Mein Hai Kon Kisi Ka Rafeeq
Sath Mere Reh Gyi Aik Meri Arzoo
Mera Nasheeman Nahin Dargah-e-Meer-o-Wazeer
Mera Nasheman Bhi Tu, Shakh-e-Nasheman Bhi Tu
Tujh Se Greban Mera Matla-e-Subah-e-Nashoor
Tujh Se Mere Seene Mein Atish-e-‘Allah Hoo’
Tujh Se Meri Zindagi Souz-o-Tab-o-Dard-o-Dagh
Tu Hi Meri Arzoo, Tu Hi Meri Justujoo
Pas Agar Tu Nahin, Shehar Hai Weeran TamamTu Hai To Abad Hain Ujhre Huwe Kakh-o-Koo
Phir Woh Sharab-e-Kuhan Mujh Ko Ata Kar Ke Main
Dhoond Raha Hun Usse, Torh Ke Jaam-o-Saboo
Tu Hi Meri Arzoo, Tu Hi Meri Justujoo
Pas Agar Tu Nahin, Shehar Hai Weeran TamamTu Hai To Abad Hain Ujhre Huwe Kakh-o-Koo
Phir Woh Sharab-e-Kuhan Mujh Ko Ata Kar Ke Main
Dhoond Raha Hun Usse, Torh Ke Jaam-o-Saboo
Chashm-e-Karam Saqiya! Dair Se Hain Mutazir
Jalwaton Ke Saboo, Khalwaton Ke Kidoo
Teri Khudai Se Hai Mere Junoon Ko Gilla
Apne Liye La-Makan, Mere Liye Char Soo!
Falsafa-o-Shair Ki Aur Haqiqat Hai Kya
Harf-e-Tamana, Jise Keh Na Sakain Roo-Ba-Roo
~ Iqbal
(Masjid-e-Qurtuba Mein Likhi Gayi)
(Masjid-e-Qurtuba Mein Likhi Gayi)
---------------------------------------------------
trans:
My invocations are sincere and true,
They form my ablutions and prayers due
One glance of guide such joy and warmth can grant,
On marge of stream can bloom the tulip plant
One has no comrade on Love’s journey long
Save fervent zeal, and passion great and strong.
O God, at gates of rich I do not bow,
You are my dwelling place and nesting bough.
Your Love in my breast burns like Doomsday morn,
The cry, He is God, on my lips is born.
Your Love, makes me God, fret with pain and pine,
You are the only quest and aim of mine.
Without You town appears devoid of life,
When present, same town appears astir with strife.
For wine of gnosis (passion) I request and ask,
To get some dregs I break the cup and glass.
The mystics’ gourds and commons’ pitchers wait
For liquor of your Grace and Bounty great.
Against Your godhead I have a genuine plaint,
For You the Spaceless, while for me restraint.
Both verse and wisdom indicate the way
Which longing face to face can not convey.
Your Love in my breast burns like Doomsday morn,
The cry, He is God, on my lips is born.
Your Love, makes me God, fret with pain and pine,
You are the only quest and aim of mine.
Without You town appears devoid of life,
When present, same town appears astir with strife.
For wine of gnosis (passion) I request and ask,
To get some dregs I break the cup and glass.
The mystics’ gourds and commons’ pitchers wait
For liquor of your Grace and Bounty great.
Against Your godhead I have a genuine plaint,
For You the Spaceless, while for me restraint.
Both verse and wisdom indicate the way
Which longing face to face can not convey.
No comments:
Post a Comment