Tark-e-Arezoo Kerdam - Ustad Sarahang - ترک آرزو کردم،

Tark-e-aarezoo kerdam, ranj e hasti aasan shod
Sokht par-feshani haa, kin qafas gulistan shod

Aalam az junun-e-man, kerde kasb-e-homvari

sel e gir d sar dadam, koh-o-dasht, daman shod

Bar safa-e-dil Zahed, in qadar chi meenazi

Har chi aayena gardid, babe khod-feroshan shod

~ Mirza Abdul Qadir Bedil

Today I went out looking for an audio CD by the Afghan classical singer Ustad Mohammad Hussain Sarahang. There are three Afghan grocery stores around our neighborhood here in Quebec and to my delight I found a CD entitled "Tarke Arezoo" in one of these stores.

The first track in this wonderful collection is a 6 minute tarana by Amir Khusraw which I will post later. When I searched on youtube I discovered that the rare qawwali "Tark e Arezoo Kerdam" was of course there all along. Hope you enjoy Sarahang's endearing style as much as I did.

ترک آرزو کردم رنج هستي آسان شد ترک  

سوخت پرفشانيها کاين قفس گلستان شد

عالم از جنون من کرد کسب همواري
سيل گريه سردادم کوه و دشت دامان شد

خامشي بدامانم شور صد قيامت ريخت
کاشتم نفس در دل ريشه نيستان شد

هر کجانظر کردم فکر خويش را هم زد
غنچه تا گل اين باغ بهر من گريبان شد

بر صفاي دل زاهد اينقدر چه مينازي
هر چه آينه گرديد باب خودفروشان شد

عشق شکوه الودست تا چه دل فسرد امروز
سيل ميرود نوميد خانه ئي که ويران شد

جيب اگر بغارت رفت دامني بدست آريم
اي جنون بصحرا زن نوبهار عريان شد

جبريان تقديريم قول و فعل ما عجز است
وهم ميکند مختار آنقدر که نتوان شد

برق رفتن هوش است يا خيال ديداري
چون سپند از دورم آتشي نمايان شد

(چين ناز پرورد است گرد وحشتم (بيدل
دامني گر افشاندم طره ئي پرشان شد

English Translation - Musab Bin Noor

Forsaking all desires, the sorrows of existence becomes easier to bear,
destroying the urge to spread my wings, transformed my cage into a garden

The World has been levelled by the force of my madness
The flood of my lamentations has submerged everything; mountains, deserts and valleys.

The silence in my bosom has spawned a cacophony of noise
I planted the Self inside my heart, like the root that sprouts into a reed-bed.

Wherever I cast my eye, thoughts of myself interrupt me
Every petal, every flower in this garden reminds me of my tattered garment.

O pious one, why such vanity over the clearness of your heart?
What are mirrors for, other than to satisfy the vanity of the preening and the vain?

Your love is polluted with complaint, that’s why your heart remains disconsolate to this day
Let hopelessness flood over your heart, so that the House becomes vacant and desolate.

If we have torn our pockets in desperation, let our hands rend our cloaks instead
O madness, whisk me away to the desert, where a new Spring awakens.

We are subservient to Fate, humility pervades our words and deeds
We have been given just enough Free Will to realize that we are helpless.

Are my senses departing at the speed of light, or is it the thought of seeing You?
Like Harmal-seeds burning on charcoal, I see a flashing light in the distance.

Bedil, the dust of my terror and desolation has been well nurtured and protected
If I spread my cloak and release it, your tresses will be left disheveled and unkempt.