Among the many ways the Laavaan have been understood, I have been drawn to one that follows the movement of Guru Ram Das's own words.

The first step is parvirti—a turning homeward, a rooting in wisdom, remembrance, and dharam that prepares the soul for what is to come. The second is milaya, meeting. Through the meeting with the True Guru, fear and ego begin to fall away. The eyes are transformed. The Divine is seen everywhere, and the unstruck Song begins to resound within. The third step is chao—the awakening of longing. This is not the desire to possess, but the desire to know, to grow, and to remain in the presence of the Beloved. Love ripens into yearning. The fourth step is getting to eternal love in sahaj—through intuitive ease. The restless search begins to quiet. The heart's deepest longing is fulfilled not through striving, but through trust, presence, and an undying rest.

I realize this is very different from the translations you have seen. I have tried to focus on the etymologies of words in the laavan - parvirti for instance means a turning around, and not family (it is not related to the word parivar which means family, but par + vriti, the other direction literally). Read in the way of the words' etymology, the Laavaan describe a beautiful progression of the soul: turning, meeting, longing, and resting. This journey belongs to every soul-bride, every seeker of love. What follows is a translation shaped by this vision, followed by a note I wrote about how relevant this poem is in current times.

First Laav

ਹਰਿ ਪਹਿਲੜੀ ਲਾਵ ਪਰਵਿਰਤੀ ਕਰਮ ਦ੍ਰਿੜਾਇਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Har pahilṛī lāv parviratī karam driṛāiā bali rām jīu.
In the first step, Hari turns us homeward.

ਬਾਣੀ ਬ੍ਰਹਮਾ ਵੇਦੁ ਧਰਮੁ ਦ੍ਰਿੜਹੁ ਪਾਪ ਤਜਾਇਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Bāṇī brahmā vedu dharamu driṛahu pāp tajāiā bali rām jīu.
Root yourself in wisdom, in song, in dharam; release what pulls you away.

ਧਰਮੁ ਦ੍ਰਿੜਹੁ ਹਰਿ ਨਾਮੁ ਧਿਆਵਹੁ ਸਿਮ੍ਰਿਤਿ ਨਾਮੁ ਦ੍ਰਿੜਾਇਆ ॥
Dharamu driṛahu hari nāmu dhiāvahu simriti nāmu driṛāiā.
Stand firm in dharam, remember the Name, and let remembrance deepen.

ਸਤਿਗੁਰੁ ਗੁਰੁ ਪੂਰਾ ਆਰਾਧਹੁ ਸਭਿ ਕਿਲਵਿਖ ਪਾਪ ਗਵਾਇਆ ॥
Satiguru guru pūrā ārādhahu sabhi kilavikh pāp gavāiā.
Cherish the True Guru, and the burdens of the past fall away.

ਸਹਜ ਅਨੰਦੁ ਹੋਆ ਵਡਭਾਗੀ ਮਨਿ ਹਰਿ ਹਰਿ ਮੀਠਾ ਲਾਇਆ ॥
Sahaj anandu hoā vaḍbhāgī mani hari hari mīṭhā lāiā.
Then bliss arises naturally, and Hari becomes sweet to the heart.

ਜਨੁ ਕਹੈ ਨਾਨਕੁ ਲਾਵ ਪਹਿਲੀ ਆਰੰਭੁ ਕਾਜੁ ਰਚਾਇਆ ॥੧॥
Janu kahai nānaku lāv pahilī ārambhu kāju racāiā.
Says Nanak: this is the first step—the journey begins.

Second Laav

ਹਰਿ ਦੂਜੜੀ ਲਾਵ ਸਤਿਗੁਰੁ ਪੁਰਖੁ ਮਿਲਾਇਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Har dūjṛī lāv satiguru purakhu milāiā bali rām jīu.
In the second step, you meet the True Guru.

ਨਿਰਭਉ ਭੈ ਮਨੁ ਹੋਇ ਹਉਮੈ ਮੈਲੁ ਗਵਾਇਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Nirbhau bhai manu hoi haumai mailu gavāiā bali rām jīu.
Fear gives way to fearlessness, and the dust of ego is washed away.

ਨਿਰਮਲੁ ਭਉ ਪਾਇਆ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਣ ਗਾਇਆ ਹਰਿ ਵੇਖੈ ਰਾਮੁ ਹਦੂਰੇ ॥
Niramalu bhau pāiā hari guṇ gāiā hari vekhai rāmu hadūre.
Pure awe awakens, you sing Hari's virtues, and you see Ram before you.

ਹਰਿ ਆਤਮ ਰਾਮੁ ਪਸਾਰਿਆ ਸੁਆਮੀ ਸਰਬ ਰਹਿਆ ਭਰਪੂਰੇ ॥
Har ātam rāmu pasāriā suāmī sarab rahiā bharapūre.
The Ram within reveals itself as the One present everywhere.

ਅੰਤਰਿ ਬਾਹਰਿ ਹਰਿ ਪ੍ਰਭੁ ਏਕੋ ਮਿਲਿ ਹਰਿ ਜਨ ਮੰਗਲ ਗਾਏ ॥
Antari bāhari hari prabhu eko mili hari jan maṅgal gāe.
Inside and outside, the same One—the lovers of Hari sing songs of joy.

ਜਨ ਨਾਨਕ ਦੂਜੀ ਲਾਵ ਚਲਾਈ ਅਨਹਦ ਸਬਦ ਵਜਾਏ ॥੨॥
Jan nānak dūjī lāv calāī anahad sabad vajāe.
Says Nanak: in the second step, the unstruck Song begins to resound.

Third Laav

ਹਰਿ ਤੀਜੜੀ ਲਾਵ ਮਨਿ ਚਾਉ ਭਇਆ ਬੈਰਾਗੀਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Har tījṛī lāv mani cāu bhaiā bairāgīā bali rām jīu.
In the third step, a longing awakens and the heart turns toward Hari alone.

ਸੰਤ ਜਨਾ ਹਰਿ ਮੇਲੁ ਹਰਿ ਪਾਇਆ ਵਡਭਾਗੀਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Sant janā hari melu hari pāiā vaḍbhāgīā bali rām jīu.
Through the company of saints, Hari is found—a rare blessing.

ਨਿਰਮਲੁ ਹਰਿ ਪਾਇਆ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਣ ਗਾਇਆ ਮੁਖਿ ਬੋਲੀ ਹਰਿ ਬਾਣੀ ॥
Niramalu hari pāiā hari guṇ gāiā mukhi bolī hari bāṇī.
The Pure One is found, His praises are sung, and the tongue speaks Hari's song.

ਸੰਤ ਜਨਾ ਵਡਭਾਗੀ ਪਾਇਆ ਹਰਿ ਕਥੀਐ ਅਕਥ ਕਹਾਣੀ ॥
Sant janā vaḍbhāgī pāiā hari kathīai akath kahāṇī.
Blessed is the meeting with saints—together they speak the unspeakable.

ਹਿਰਦੈ ਹਰਿ ਹਰਿ ਹਰਿ ਧੁਨਿ ਉਪਜੀ ਹਰਿ ਜਪੀਐ ਮਸਤਕਿ ਭਾਗੁ ਜੀਉ ॥
Hiradai hari hari hari dhuni upajī hari japīai masataki bhāgu jīu.
Within the heart, Hari, Hari, Hari resounds—destiny unfolds.

ਜਨੁ ਨਾਨਕੁ ਬੋਲੇ ਤੀਜੀ ਲਾਵੈ ਹਰਿ ਉਪਜੈ ਮਨਿ ਬੈਰਾਗੁ ਜੀਉ ॥੩॥
Janu nāku bole tījī lāvai hari upjai mani bairāgu jīu.
Says Nanak: in the third step, love deepens into longing.

Fourth Laav

ਹਰਿ ਚਉਥੜੀ ਲਾਵ ਮਨਿ ਸਹਜੁ ਭਇਆ ਹਰਿ ਪਾਇਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Har cauthṛī lāv mani sahaju bhaiā hari pāiā bali rām jīu.
In the fourth step, the mind comes to rest—Hari is found.

ਗੁਰਮੁਖਿ ਮਿਲਿਆ ਸੁਭਾਇ ਹਰਿ ਮਨਿ ਤਨਿ ਮੀਠਾ ਲਾਇਆ ਬਲਿ ਰਾਮ ਜੀਉ ॥
Guramukhi miliā subhāi hari mani tani mīṭhā lāiā bali rām jīu.
Through the Guru's way, meeting happens naturally—Hari becomes sweet to body and soul.

ਹਰਿ ਮੀਠਾ ਲਾਇਆ ਮੇਰੇ ਪ੍ਰਭ ਭਾਇਆ ਅਨਦਿਨੁ ਹਰਿ ਲਿਵ ਲਾਈ ॥
Har mīṭhā lāiā mere prabh bhāiā anadinu hari liv lāī.
Hari is sweet, the Beloved is pleased—day and night, attention rests in Him.

ਮਨ ਚਿੰਦਿਆ ਫਲੁ ਪਾਇਆ ਸੁਆਮੀ ਹਰਿ ਨਾਮਿ ਵਜੀ ਵਾਧਾਈ ॥
Man cindiā phalu pāiā suāmī hari nāmi vajī vādhāī.
The heart's desire comes to fruition—the Name rings out in celebration.

ਹਰਿ ਪ੍ਰਭਿ ਠਾਕੁਰਿ ਕਾਜੁ ਰਚਾਇਆ ਧਨ ਹਿਰਦੈ ਨਾਮਿ ਵਿਗਾਸੀ ॥
Har prabhi ṭhākuri kāju racāiā dhan hiradai nāmi vigāsī.
The union is fulfilled—the bride's heart blooms in the Naam.

ਜਨੁ ਨਾਨਕੁ ਬੋਲੇ ਚਉਥੀ ਲਾਵੈ ਹਰਿ ਪਾਇਆ ਪ੍ਰਭੁ ਅਵਿਨਾਸੀ ॥੪॥੨॥
Janu nānaku bole cauthī lāvai hari pāiā prabhu avināsī.
Says Nanak: in the fourth step, the eternal hari/prabhu/love is found.

What does this have to do with us now?

In modern love, we already know these four steps, even if we have never read the Laavaan. Think of how it begins: a woman dresses up, prepares herself, turns her attention toward love, and hopes to attract someone she truly desires. She primps and preens, not out of vanity, but because she is readying herself for the meeting. That is the first step—parviratī, a turning toward the beloved, a rooting in the hope that something beautiful is about to begin.

Then she meets him. There are butterflies, a flutter in the chest, a feeling that the world has suddenly become more vibrant. Every glance feels charged, every word carries weight. She cannot quite explain it, but something inside her knows this is significant. That is the second step—milāiā, the meeting. The unstruck sound begins to play, not as something heard with the ears, but as something felt in the bones. It is the music of new love, the harbinger of the bliss to come.

As the relationship deepens, she finds herself missing him when he is not around. She thinks of him constantly, longs for his presence, and cannot imagine her days without him. This is not weakness; it is the heart recognizing that it has found something worth holding onto. That is the third step—man chāo, the longing that awakens in the heart, the desire to keep being with the beloved, to know them more fully, to grow alongside them.

And then, finally, there comes a day when she no longer has to perform. The makeup comes off, the pretenses fall away, and she is simply herself. She knows, with a quiet and unshakable confidence, that she is loved exactly as she is. She does not have to earn it, prove it, or fight for it. It is simply there. That is the fourth step—man sahaj, the intuitive ease of resting in love, the fulfillment of the heart's deepest desire. This is what Guru Ram Das is teaching us: that the journey of the soul toward the Divine is no different from the journey of the heart toward true love. And in both, the destination is the same—the quiet, certain knowledge that we are home.

I am reading a poem by Faiz today. He was in prison when he wrote this, and this poem has the fragrance of freedom. Guru Nanak talks about freedom at the end of Japji Sahib. Those who remember the name walk around with resplendent faces and they are also the ones who have found freedom, despite being imprisoned in this body on this earth.

Let me introduce the poem, then let's read it and talk about it as well.

This is a poem that moves like evening itself—slowly folding, dissolving, turning the visible world into something inward. It belongs to that tradition in Urdu-Hindi poetry where twilight is not just a time of day but a state of being: a threshold between separation and union, ظلم (oppression) and possibility, memory and presence. The language is lush with Persianized compounds—पेच-ओ-ख़म, दामन-ए-आसमाँ, दर्द-ए-फ़िराक़—and yet what it gestures toward is deeply intimate: the feeling that even in a wounded world, beauty keeps quietly assembling itself.

What makes this poem powerful is that it never argues hope—it renders it. The sky, the prison courtyard, the trees, the light, the shadows—all of them participate in a kind of silent resistance. By the time we reach the final lines, the poem has shifted from observation to defiance, but so gently that we hardly notice when seeing becomes believing.

Original Poem by Faiz

ज़िंदाँ की एक शाम

शाम के पेच-ओ-ख़म सितारों से
ज़ीना ज़ीना उतर रही है रात

यूँ सबा पास से गुज़रती है
जैसे कह दी किसी ने प्यार की बात

सेहन-ए-ज़िंदाँ के बे-वतन अश्जार
सर-निगूँ महव हैं बनाने में

दामन-ए-आसमाँ पे नक़्श-ओ-निगार
शाना-ए-बाम पर दमकता है

मेहरबाँ चाँदनी का दस्त-ए-जमील
ख़ाक में घुल गई है आब-ए-नुजूम

नूर में घुल गया है अर्श का नील
सब्ज़ गोशों में नील-गूँ साए

लहलहाते हैं जिस तरह दिल में
मौज-ए-दर्द-ए-फ़िराक़-ए-यार आए

दिल से पैहम ख़याल कहता है
इतनी शीरीं है ज़िंदगी इस पल

ज़ुल्म का ज़हर घोलने वाले
कामराँ हो सकेंगे आज न कल

जल्वा-गाह-ए-विसाल की शमएँ
वो बुझा भी चुके अगर तो क्या

चाँद को गुल करें तो हम जानें

Translation

An Evening in the Prison

The tangled curves of evening—
night descends, step by step,
from the stars.

The breeze passes close by
as if someone has just
whispered love.

In the prison courtyard, the rootless trees
bow their heads, absorbed
in becoming.

Across the sky’s hem, patterns emerge,
and along the rooftop’s edge
something glimmers.

The gentle hand of moonlight—
the water of stars dissolves
into dust.

The blue of the heavens melts into light,
and in green corners, bluish shadows
begin to sway—

the way, inside the heart,
waves of the pain of separation
rise and tremble.

From within, a thought repeats:
life is so sweet
in this very moment—

those who stir poison into oppression
will not prevail,
not today, not ever.

Even if they have extinguished
the lamps of union—
what of it?

Let them try
to put out the moon.

The Best Lines — and Why They Stay

The opening: “शाम के पेच-ओ-ख़म सितारों से / ज़ीना ज़ीना उतर रही है रात” is extraordinary because it refuses a flat description of evening. “पेच-ओ-ख़म” (twists and turns) gives dusk a physical, almost calligraphic texture, and “ज़ीना ज़ीना” (step by step) turns night into a descent you can feel. It is not a sky changing color—it is something arriving, deliberately, like a quiet procession. The line teaches us how to look.

“यूँ सबा पास से गुज़रती है / जैसे कह दी किसी ने प्यार की बात” is deceptively simple, but this is where the poem softens the world. The breeze becomes intimate speech. Nothing dramatic happens, and yet everything changes: the external world is suddenly capable of carrying affection. This is classic subcontinental poetics—turning atmosphere into emotion without announcing it.

The image of “सेहन-ए-ज़िंदाँ के बे-वतन अश्जार”—rootless trees in a prison courtyard—is one of the most layered moments. These are trees that belong nowhere, yet they are “महव हैं बनाने में”—absorbed in becoming, in making themselves. Even in confinement, life is not static. There is a quiet metaphysics here: growth does not ask permission.

Then comes the heart of the poem:
“लहलहाते हैं जिस तरह दिल में / मौज-ए-दर्द-ए-फ़िराक़-ए-यार आए”.
The pain of separation is not described as heaviness, but as waves, even as something that sways or ripples. Pain is alive, moving, almost fertile. This is where the poem turns inward—everything we saw outside (shadows, movement, dissolving light) now mirrors the interior landscape.

The philosophical pivot happens in:
“इतनी शीरीं है ज़िंदगी इस पल”.
This is not naïve optimism. It arrives after images of prison, exile, and separation. The sweetness is not because suffering is absent—it is because life persists despite it. That distinction is everything.

And then the ending—quiet, almost playful defiance:
“चाँद को गुल करें तो हम जानें”
—Let them try to extinguish the moon.

This is one of those rare lines that does not raise its voice but still feels like resistance. It does not deny ظلم; it simply places it in proportion. You can put out lamps, perhaps even erase moments of union—but the moon? That is beyond you. The line expands the scale of hope from the human to the cosmic.

The following is my attempt at translating a Polish poem by Tomasz Rozycki into English. And before I do this, let me just describe my process which might be different from others.

When I undertake translations, my goal is to condense the text to a minimal number of words. This approach is particularly crucial for video translations, where brevity enhances the conveyance of information because frames are changing rapidly, and viewer has a shorter time to comprehend.

Beyond the efficiency gained from succinct translations, there exists an additional advantage. Translating between languages is akin to crafting something entirely new, as certain nuances or expressions from the original language may not have direct counterparts in the target language. Consequently, this process involves a creative reimagining, allowing for the articulation of ideas in a manner that may be more artful or nuanced in the new language. The key lies in preserving the essence of the poet's message; as long as the core meaning remains intact, variations in expression or shade of meaning are not only acceptable but can also contribute to the richness of the translation.

Shadow

BY
TOMASZ RÓŻYCKI

Translated by Shivpreet Singh

I leave you places where I am not

Like one on the Odra, one on the Skalki,

plus beds, some lofts and a mattress.

Especially the mattress. It'll be easier for me

so you can fill them and become fuller

in the places left and remaining,

in other words, everywhere else. Standing in the shadow

you look at me as I enter the gate

and a crack, and I'm gone. I fill-write to you,

what crumbled, what burned, what changed

form and condition, which is devoured in the grave

because of a fat worm is now clay,

grass, tree, chamomile. Be there, please, rule

then, as you wish, put on my clothes and shoes

take out the table, drink with your neighbors.

My letters against your minutes.

Shadow

BY Tomasz Różycki

TRANSLATED BY MIRA ROSENTHAL

To you, I leave the places where I’m absent.

That one along the Oder, another at the Reservoir,

apart from those some beds and attics, a mattress.

Especially the mattress. It’ll be much easier

to think of you as filling them, growing and going

rampant in places vacated and those that still remain,

to say it plain—everywhere else. From the shadows

perhaps you’re watching me pass through the gate

and snap, I’m gone, no longer. I bequeath to you

what falls apart, burns down, what shifts in shape,

what changes its own state, what’s been consumed

in the grave by a fat worm and is already clay

and grass and wood and chamomile. Please live there

and use it how you want, climb into my clothes and put

yourself in my shoes, set up a table, drink with the neighbors.

It’s my word, these letters against you and your minutes.

Translated from the Polish

Cień

Tobie zostawiam miejsca, w których już mnie nie ma.

Takie miejsce nad Odrą i jedno na Skałkach,

poza tym łóżka, kilka strychów i materac.

A zwłaszcza materac. Będzie mi dużo łatwiej,

z myślą, że wypełnisz je sobą, że się plenisz

w miejscach pozostawionych oraz w pozostałych,

słowem—że wszędzie indziej. I że stojąc w cieniu

może patrzysz tak na mnie, jak wchodzę do bramy

i trzask, i już mnie nie ma. Zapisuje tobie,

to, co się rozpadło, spłonęło, co zmieniło

swoją postać i stan swój, co zeżarte w grobie

przez grubego robaka teraz jest już gliną,

trawą, drzewem, rumiankiem. Bądź tam, proszę, władaj

tym tak jak zechcesz, wejdź w moje ubranie, buty

moje załóż, stół wynieś, wypij z sąsiadami.

Moje litery przeciwko twoim minutom.

I am listening and reading about Amir Khusro's poetry tonight. First let me share my translation of his ghazal Guftam ke rohan az qamar, which is really a conversation with God (not unlike Allama Iqbal, Guru Nanak, and Neale Donald Walsch). Following this translation you will find another translation of the poem as well as some couplets sung by Bahauddin Khan Qawwal and party.

I asked, "Is anything more radiant than the moon's light?"
He replied, "Yes, my face shines just as bright."

"And sweeter than sugar in this earthly place?"
"My words make sugar seem dull and commonplace."

"What's death for lovers?" - my voice soft and shy,
"Parting from the beloved," was his reply.

"And life's pain, can it find a remedy?"
"Just seeing me should bring your harmony."

"The right path for lovers?" I implore,
"Only faithfulness of lovers I adore."

"Be not cruel, unfair," I begged with tears,
"That's how I've worked all the years."

"Are you of angels or fairies rare?"
"Lord of them all," he smiled, "beyond compare."

"Your love has broken Khusrau's heart today."
"To be my love, that's the price you pay."

Bahauddin Khan Qawwal (1934-2006), whose party render the qawwali below, traced his lineage back to the days of Amir Khusrau. To remind centuries-yet-to-be that he had loved his murshid, Khusrau banded together twelve youngsters, personally trained them, funded them, and performed with them. He appointed Mian Saamat as the leader of the Bachche (Youngsters) Qawwal. Bahauddin's family claims descent from the Bachche.

The first couplet is by Saʿdī. Abū-Muhammad Muslih al-Dīn bin Abdallāh Shīrāzī, aka Saʿdī Shirazi (Persian: ابومحمد مصلح الدین بن عبدالله شیرازی‎; 1210-1292) was the major classical Persian poet of the middle ages, recognized for the quality of his composition and for the depth of his thought.

اگرم حیات بخشی و گرم هلاک خواهی
سر بندگی به حکمت بنهم که پادشاهی

Garam hayat bakhshi wa garam hayat khwahi
Sar-e-bandagi-ba-khidmat bane humke badshahi

Grant me a warm new life or grant me a hot death
I bow my head at Thy service and make Thee my king.

The second couplet is by ‘Araqi. Fakhr al-dīn Ibrahīm ‘Irāqī, or ‘Araqi (Persian: فخرالدین ابراهیم عراقی‎; 1213-1289), was a Persian Sufi master (a friend of Jalaluddin Rumi), poet and writer. Born in Hamedan, (i.e. 'Irani Iraq'), ‘Araqi spent many years in Multan in the Indian subcontinent, as well as in Konya in present day Turkey.

نہ شود نصب دشمن، کہ شود ہلاک تیغت
سر دوستاں سلامت، کہ تو خنجر آزمائی

Na shabad naseeb-e-dushman ke shabad halaq-e-taighat
Sar-e-doston-salamat ke tu khanjarat ma aaye

Why should our enemies be so fortunate to die by Thine hands?
The heads of comrades are standing alive, ready for dagger-wielder Thou.

The rest is by Amir Khusrau (1253-1305):

گفتم که روشن از قمر گفتا که رخسار منست

گفتم که شیرین از شکر گفتا که گفتار منست

Guftam ke roshan az qamar gufta ke rukhsar-e-man ast
Guftam ke shireen az shakar gufta ke guftar-e-man ast

I asked: 'What is brighter than the moon?' She said: 'It is my face.'
I asked: 'What is sweeter than sugar?' She said: 'It is my talk.'

گفتم کہ مرگِ ناگہاں، گفتا که درد هجر من
گفتم علاج زندگی ،گفتا که دیدار منست

Guftam ke marg-e-'ashiqan gufta ke dard-e-hijr-e-man
Guftam 'ilaaj-e-zindagi gufta ke deedar-e-man ast

I asked about the death of lovers; She said; 'The pain of being separated from me.'
I asked about the cure of life; She said: 'It is the sight of my face.'

گفتم طریق عاشقان گفتا وفاداری بود
گفتم مکن جور و جفا، گفتا کہ این کار منست

Guftam tareeq-e-'ashiqan gufta wafadari buwad
Guftam makun jaur o jafa gufta ke iin kar-e-man ast

I asked about the way of lovers; She said: 'Fidelity.'
I said: 'Then do not be cruel and wicked.' She said: 'That is my task.'

گفتم که حوری یا پری ، گفتا که من شاه ِ بتاں
گفتم که خسرو ناتوان گفتا پرستار منست

Guftam ke houri ya pari gufta ke man shah-e-butan
Guftam ke Khusrau na-tavaan gufta parastar-e-man ast

I said: 'Are you a houri or a fairy?' She said: 'Of idols I am King.'
I said: 'Khusrau is helpless.' She said: 'Worship me.'

In his Lectures on Aesthetics, Hegel wrote:

Pantheistic poetry has had, it must be said, a higher and freer development in the Islamic world, especially among the Persians ... The full flowering of Persian poetry comes at the height of its complete transformation in speech and national character, through Mohammedanism ... In later times, poetry of this order [Ferdowsi's epic poetry] had a sequel in love epics of extraordinary tenderness and sweetness; but there followed also a turn toward the didactic, where, with a rich experience of life, the far-traveled Saadi was master before it submerged itself in the depths of the pantheistic mysticism taught and recommended in the extraordinary tales and legendary narrations of the great Jalal-ed-Din Rumi.

اگرم حیات بخشی و گرم هلاک خواهیسر بندگی به حکمت بنهم که پادشاهی

Today I was reading this poem by Hugo Williams and I was reminded of Ranjish hi Sahi, ghazal of Ahmed Faraz immortalized by the singing of Mehdi Hassan (ghazal).

Please Come Late

by Hugo Williams

Please come late,

so that I gave almost given you up

and have started glancing round the room,

thinking everyone is you.

Ranjish hi Sahi

Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa

Aa phir se mujhe chod ke jaane ke liye aa

Let it be anguish, even to torture my heart, come

Come even if only to abandon me to torment again.

Pehle se marasim na sahi phir bhi kabhi to

Rasm-o-reh.e.duniya hi nibhane ke liye aa

Come, if not for our past commerce,

Then to faithfully fulfill the ancient barbaric rituals.

Kis kis ko bataayenge judaaii ka sabab hum

Tu mujh se kafa hai to zamane ke liye aa

How many people will I explain my grief to?

If you are mad at me, come just for the sake of this world

Kuch to mere pindaar-e-muhabbat ka bharam rakh

Tu bhi kabhi mujh ko manane ke liye aa

Respect, even if only a little, the depth of my love for you;

Come, someday, to offer me consolation as well.

Ek umr se hoon lazzat-e-giriya se bhi mehroom

Aye raahat-e-jaan mujh ko rulaane ke liye aa

Too long you have deprived me of the pathos of longing;

Come again, my love, if only to make me weep.

Ab tak dil-e-khush faham ko tujh se hain ummiiden

Ye aakhri shamme bhi bhujaane ke liye aa

Till now, my heart still suffers some slight expectation;

So come, snuff out even the last flickering torch of hope!

Maana ki muhabbat ka chupaana hai muhabbat

Chupke se kisi roz jataane ke liye aa

Agreed, silencing your love is the real form of love

Some day, come to silently express your love

Jaise tujhe aate hain na aane ke bahaane

Aise hi kisi roz na jaane ke liye aa

The way you find excuses to not come,

Some day, come with an excuse to stay forever

Alternative Translation (from rekhta)

ranjish hī sahī dil hī dukhāne ke liye aa

aa phir se mujhe chhoḌ ke jaane ke liye aa

even if you are annoyed come just to give me pain

come even if you have to then leave me yet again

kuchh to mire pindār-e-mohabbat kā bharam rakh

tū bhī to kabhī mujh ko manāne ke liye aa

the notion of my love's self-pride please do pacify

you should surely come one day and try to mollify

pahle se marāsim na sahī phir bhī kabhī to

rasm-o-rah-e-duniyā hī nibhāne ke liye aa

even tho no longer close we are as used to be

come even if it's purely for sake of formality

kis kis ko batā.eñge judā.ī kā sabab ham

tū mujh se ḳhafā hai to zamāne ke liye aa

the reason for our parting to whom should I relate

if cross with methen come and to the world narrate

ik umr se huuñ lazzat-e-girya se bhī mahrūm

ai rāhat-e-jāñ mujh ko rulāne ke liye aa

a lifetime have I missed the joy of tearful ecstasy

life's comfort thus to make me cry, you should come to me

ab tak dil-e-ḳhush-fahm ko tujh se haiñ ummīdeñ

ye āḳhirī sham.eñ bhī bujhāne ke liye aa

my heart is optimistic yet, its hopes are still alive

come to snuff it out, let not this final flame survive

Please Come Late

by Hugo Williams

Please come late,

so that I gave almost given you up

and have started glancing round the room,

thinking everyone is you.

Please don’t come

until I have started missing you,

thinking I will never see you again,

praying you are lost.

Come too late for me not to notice.

Make me suffer,

wondering what you are doing

on the other side of town,

still in your dressing down.

make me beg for mercy

when you pick up a magazine.

Are you looking in your mirror,

suddenly remembering me?

I’m on my second coffee by now,

eating the little bits of sugar in my cup.

Haven’t you even set out yet?

I decide I don’t want to see you after all.

I don’t really like you.

I’d rather be on my own.

I know it is all over between us.

but I go on sitting here,

reading a newspaper,

not understanding a word.

If you came in now, I wouldn’t recognize you.

Don’t come anywhere near me

until I have gone slightly mad for love of you.

Har lehza ba shakl aan -

(written shaklay but sung shakl aan by most qawwals)

While this ghazal is often attributed to Rumi, this is actually the poetry of Shams Mashraqi who used pen name of Rumi. Maulana Rum never used rumi as takhallas.

Har lehza ba shakl aan but-e-ayyar baraamad

Dil burd-o-nihaan shud

Har dum ba libaas-e-digar aan yaar baraamad

Gah peer-o-jawaan shud

हर दम वो ख़ूबसूरत चेहरा एक नई शक्ल में ज़ाहिर होता

दिल चुराता और गायब हो जाता

हर वक़्त यार दूसरों के लिबास में ज़ाहिर होता

कभी बूढ़े के रूप में कभी जवान के

O' that trickster idol-beloved! Every time he made an appearance, he had a different face

He pulled the people's hearts, And hid from view.

Every time he came out in a different garb

He was sometimes young, And sometimes he was old.

Khud kuza o khud kuzagar-o-khud gil-e-kuzaa

Khud rind-e-sabu kash

Khud bar sar-e-aan kuza khareedaar baraamad

Bishkast o rawaan shud

वो ख़ुद ही कूज़ा है खुद कूज़ा बनाने वाला है और खुद ही कूज़े की मिटटी है

फ़िर ख़ुद ही उस कूज़े को पीने वाला

सरे-आम ख़ुद ही कूज़े का ख़रीदार बनकर ज़ाहिर होता

इस लिए उसके लिए कूज़े का तोड़ना भी जायज़ है

He was himself clay and flask, And potter, and also the wine tippler.

And then he himself came out As buyer for the flask,

And he broke it, and moved on.

Nai nai ke hameen bood ke mi aamad o mi raft

Har qarn ke deedaim

Taa aaqebat aan shakl-e-arab vaar baraamad

Dara-e-jahaan shud

वही था जो हर ज़माने में आता रहा और जाता रहा

हर ज़माने नेकि उसे देखा

बिल आख़िर वो एक अरब बनकर ज़ाहिर हुआ

और वही जहान का बादशाह है

Nay! It was he that came and went

In all the ages, as I saw,

Till finally, he showed himself In the Arabian's form

and took the world for his kingdom.

Nai nai ke hamoon bood ke mi guft anal haq

Dar soorat-e-Mansoor

Mansoor na boodaan ke baraandaar baraamad

Naadaan ba gumaan shud

वही था जिसने कहा कि मैं ही हक़ हूँ

ख़ुदा की आवाज़ में

वो मंसूर नहीं था जो सूली पर ज़ाहिर हुआ

नादान लोग उसे मंसूर समझते रहे

Nay! It was he who proclaimed "I am the Truth"

In Mansur's words;

It wasn't Mansur who was in public view, On the scaffold,

Fools fell into error.

Rumi sukhanay kufra na guftast na goyed

munkir na shabai dast

Kafir shavad aan kas kay ba inkaar baraamad

Mardood-e-jahaan shud

रूमी ने कभी कुफ़्र की बात न की है और न करता है

वह मुन्किर नहीं है

काफ़िर तो वो है जिसने इनक़ार किया था यानी शैतान ...

वही दोज़ख़ियों में से है

Rumi has spoken in denial,

And none in the wide world speaks or Spoke thus.

Those who come out in denial Are cast out,

And become rejects, world-wide.

(Translated by S. R. Faruqi)

Butte Ayyar - The Sly Beloved

Rumi uses "butt-e-ayyar" in the beginning of the ghazal:

Har lehza ba shaklay but-e-ayyar baraamad
Dil burd-o-nihaan shud

Ayyar was historically used for rogue fighters -- somewhat like guerilla fighters; ones who would hide and attack surprisingly. An 'ayyaar' in this case is a lover that has a surprise attack. Some say it is used as a "beloved sly" described in this idiom in Persian Sufi poetry. Whether it is beloved sly or a surprise attacker, it is a lover that fools us with so much ease into believing that He is not there when he actually is there!

Bhai Nandlal uses "butte ayyar" in one of his couplets in the ghazal Deen-o-Duniya. Because he was an Islamic scholar who often talks about Mansoor in his poetry, he was likely aware of this popular Rumi ghazal:

Gaahe Sufi Gaahe Zahid Geh kalandar mi shavad
rang-haye mukhtalif daarad butte ayaar-e-ma

I heard one of the qawwal's using what seems like a punjabi translation of Bhai Nandlal's poem. This was after my making the butte-ayyar connection. So its possible that one of the qawwals had also studied bhai nandlal's ghazals:

Sufi zaahid mast kalandar naam ose de saare
har jaan vasse yaar peyaara ves vataa ke nyaare

Persian Lyrics and Alternative Urdu/English Translation

Persian Lyrics

هر لحظه به شکل بت عیار بر آمد دل بُرد و نهان شد

هر دم به لباس دگر آن یار بر آمد گه پیر و جوان شد

گه نوحؑ شد و کرد جهانی بدعا غرق خود رفت به کشتی

گه گشت خلیلؑ بہ در نار بر آمد آتش گُل از آن شد

یوسفؑ شد و در مصر فرستاد قمیصی آن جلوہ عالم

در دیده یعقوبؑ چو انوار بر آمد نادیده عیان شد

خود کوزہ و خود کوزہ گر و خود گلِ کوزہ, خود رندِ سبو کش

خود بر سرِ آں کوزہ خریدار برآمد, بشکست و رواں شد

ایں جمله همیں بود که می آمد و می رفت هر قرن که دیدی

تا عاقبت آن شکل عربؐ دار بر آمد دارای جهان شد

رومیؔ سخن کفر نہ گفت است و نگوید منکر مشویدش

کافر شود آن کس که به انکار بر آمد مردود جہاں شد

Urdu Translation

ہر لمحہ وہ ایک دِلرُبا بُت کی صورت میں آتا ہے

دل چھینتا ہےاور غائب ہوجاتا ہے

ہر لمحہ، محبوب ایک نئے لباس میں ظاہر ہوتا ہے

کبھی جوان تو کبھی پیر

کبھی وہ نوحؑ ہُوا، دعا سے جہان غرق کیا

خود کشتی پہ چلا گیا

کبھی وہ ابراہیمؑ ہُوا، بیچ آگ کے جلوہ نما

آتش اُسی سے گلزار ہوئی

کبھی وہ یوسفؑ ہُوا، اور مصرسے اپنی قمیض بھیجی

جہان کو روشن کرنے والا

وہی یعقوبؑ کی آنکھوں میں منور ہوا

تبھی آنکھوں میں بینائی آئی

خود ہی کُوزہ، خود ہی کوزہ ساز، خود ہی کوزہ کی مٹی

خود ہی جام نوش کرنے والا رند

خود ہی اس کوزہ کا خریداربن آتا ہے

خود ہی توڑکے چلا جاتا ہے

یہ تمام ، وہی تو تھا کہ جو آتا تھا اور جاتا تھا

ہر زمانے میں جو تم نے دیکھا

بالاخر ایک عربی ﷺ کی صورت میں ظاہر

جہان کا تاجدار ہو گیا

رومی نے کفر کی بات نہیں کی، اور نہ ہی کرتا

وہ منکر نہیں ہوا

کافر تو وہ ہوا جس نے انکار کیا (شیطان)

مردود قرار پایا

English translation

Every Moment, He arrives in a beautiful sculpture;

conquers hearts & disappears.

Every Moment, that beloved appears in a new dress;

Sometimes young, sometimes old.

Once he became Noah & drowned the world with his prayer;

He himself went to the ship.

Once he became Abraham and went through the fire;

The fire was transformed to a garden because of him.

He became Joseph and sent his coat from Egypt;

Which illuminated the world.

Came out like light from Jacob’s eyes;

Then eyes got perfect vision.

He is the vessel, he is its maker, and he is the clay used to make it;

He is the reveler quaffing drinking from it.

He too is the one who buys it;

breaks it, and left away.

No! No! He was Himself! Coming and going;

Every century, what you have seen.

At end He arrives as an Arab (PBUP)

And Became the sovereign of universe.

Rumi has never denied the truth, nor he does;

He is not a disbeliever.

Introduction and Video - Kaise Man Tarega Re

This beautiful shabad was written by Bhagat Namdev, the saint poet from Maharashtra. I continue to celebrate Bhagat Namdev's 750th birth anniversary by creating several media projects based on his poetry. The odds were against him but despite Bhagat Namdev being from a family of cheepas, or calico printers, he was able to swim across the toxic ocean of life to meet Paarbrahm and describes his experience in this shabad. Guru Nanak found this shabad inspirational and sang it in a raag he created himself, Raag Asa, the raag of hope.

In this blog I start out with the lyrics of the shabad and the traditional translation in English, followed by a discussion of some of the words in the shabad. In the end I have posted lyrics in Hindi and Punjabi.

Lyrics and Translation in English

Āsā - Shabad by Bhagat Namdev

Pārbarahm jė cẖīnĥsī āsā ṯe na bẖāvsī.

Rāmā bẖagṯah cẖeṯīale acẖinṯ man rākẖsī. ||1||

Kaise man ṯarhegā re sansār sāgar bikẖai ko banā.

Jẖūṯẖī māiā ḏekẖ kai bẖūlā re manā. ||1|| rahā▫o.

Cẖẖīpe ke gẖar janam ḏailā gur upḏes bẖailā.

Sanṯėh kai parsāḏ nāmā har bẖetulā. ||2||5||

Aasaa - Translation by Bhai Manmohan Singh

He, who sees the Supreme Lord, likes not other desires.

He thinks of Lord's devotional service and keeps his mind free from care.

O my soul, how shalt thou cross over the world-ocean filled with the water of vice?

Beholding the false worldly valuables thou has gone astray, O my mind. Pause.

Thou hast given me birth in a calico-printer's house (O Lord), but I have attained the Guru's instruction.

By saints' grace, Nam Dev has met his Lord.

Original Translation

If you understand infinity, desires will not trap you

By remembering Raam, your mind will be free of worries

O mind,

How will you swim across the world full of toxins?

Seeing this false maya you have gone astray!

Despite being born in a calico-printer family, I was blessed with the Guru's teachings

With the blessings of saints, I was able to meet Hari

Vocabulary and Shabad Discussion

Aasaa/Asa

The shabad is sung in Raag Asa, Guru Nanak's raag of hope. Aasaa (also Asa) means hope and is the same as the hindi word Asha. This is the fourth raag in the Guru Granth Sahib after Raags Shriraag, Maajh, and Gauri. It is said that Guru Nanak composed this raag himself. Guru Nanak has written several shabads in composed a vaar, a ballad in Asa as well. This is one of my favorite raags and I have recorded many of Guru Nanak's shabads in Raag Asa: Vadde Mere Sahiba, Baba Jai Ghar Karte Keerat Hoye, and Balhaari Kudrat Vaseya. Several other Guru's and bhagats have written shabads in raag Asa; some of my favorite Asa shabads include Bhinni Rainariye Chamkan Taare, Tera Kiya Meetha Lagai, and Sant Kabir's Paati Torai Malini.

Paarbrahm

Pārbarahm or Paarbrahm (u). transcendent Lord. Paarbrahm is made of two words: Paar and Brahm where paar means "beyond" or "across" and brahm implies ultimate reality (from the Sanskrit brahman). The verb "brihate" in sanskrit is used for something that is expanding. Brahmaand refers to the universe. In this shabad, paarbrahma beautifully implies the ultimate reality that is found across the ocean. In Sanskrit paar also means "higher" in some contexts, and "highest or supreme." So paarbrahm is the "Supreme Brahman" that which is beyond all descriptions and conceptualizations.

Par according to Sanskrit-English Dictionary by McDonnell: “पर pár-a [leading beyond: √2. pri], 1. of place: farther, than ; remoter, ulterior; opposite (shore); next (life); 2. of time: past, previous; future, subsequent; following (ab.); latest, extreme (age), high (time); 3. of amount: exceeding, more than ; remaining over; 4. of sequence: following, coming next after ; repeated: each successive; 5. of degree: superior, higher, better, worse, than ; supreme, pre-eminent, best; utmost, deepest, greatest; 6. of range: transcending ; etc.”

Usage of Paarbrahm (para brahma):

In Advaita Vedanta, the Para Brahman is defined as nirguna brahman, or brahman without form or qualities and is a state of complete knowledge of self as being identical with the transcendental Brahman, a state of mental-spiritual enlightenment. It contrasts with Saguna Brahman which is a state of loving awareness. Advaita Vedanta non-dualistically holds that Brahman is divine, the divine is Brahman, and this is identical to that which is Atman (one's soul, innermost self) and nirguna (attribute-less), infinite, love, truth, knowledge, "being-consciousness-bliss".

Paarbrahm versus Pooran Brahm: Bhai Gurdas wrote a poem about Guru Nanak (Kal Taaran Guru Nanak Aaya) where he says, Paarbrahm Pooran Brahm Kaljug Andar Ik Dikhaayaa (ਪਾਰਬ੍ਰਹਮ ਪੂਰਨ ਬ੍ਰਹਮ ਕਲਿਜੁਗ ਅੰਦਰਿ ਇਕ ਦਿਖਾਇਆ). Which means, "[Guru Nanak] showed [through his own example] in this dark age (kalyug) that, the one with all the attributes including form (Pooran Brahm) and the one beyond all attributes (Paarbrahm) are the same and identical.

Toon Paarbrahma Beant: Guru Ramdas in Raag Asa sings, Toon Paarbrahm be-ant be-ant ji tere kya gun aakh vakhaanaa (ਤੂੰ ਪਾਰਬ੍ਰਹਮੁ ਬੇਅੰਤੁ ਬੇਅੰਤੁ ਜੀ ਤੇਰੇ ਕਿਆ ਗੁਣ ਆਖਿ ਵਖਾਣਾ ॥). You are the endless endless Paarbrahm; how can I say your virtues? Raga Aaasaa 4, Sohilaa, 1, 2:4 (Guru Granth Sahib, page 11).

The sixth element: Here is another way to look at it from the point of view of Sankhya philosophy: The universe -- or brahmand -- is made of five elements. This universe maybe called prakriti of the Sankhya philosophy. It is really the same as maaya. However, there is a sixth element, the truth, also called purusha, which is beyond the universe is the same as paarbrahma. Guru Gobind Singh in Sanyasa calls this the aatam tatva or the 'soul element'.

Chheepa

Bhagat Namdev says Cẖẖīpe ke gẖar janam ḏailā literally meaning "I have obtained birth in the family of chhipa". The word chhipa is derived from the word chhaap, which means print; chhaap can be a noun as well as a verb. Some people have their last names as chheepa. The chheepa (alternatively spelled Chhipa, chheeppa chhippa, or chhimpa) are a community or clan of people with ancestral roots tracing back to India. They are found in the state of Maharashtra, Gujarat, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Sindh and Punjab.

It is said that the community was originally found in Nagaur in Rajasthan. After their settlement in Rajasthan and Gujarat, the community took up the occupation of dyeing and printing clothes. The community speak Marwari and Gujarati, and many can still be found mainly in Rajasthan and in north Gujarat, in the districts of Ahmedabad, Nadiad, Baroda and Bharuch.

Chheepa is often translated as "calico printer." Calico is a raw form of cotton we often call 'khaddar." Calico fabric is a plain-woven textile, made from half-processed and unbleached cotton fibers. It’s a coarse and rough fabric, but not as sturdy as denim or canvas, nor as fine as Muslin. Calico is generally very cheap due to its unfinished nature, and it often remains un-dyed and raw.

The cheepa clan were categorized as one of the lower classes in the Hindu caste system. The relevance here is that the shabad is about crossing the toxin filled ocean of the world; being born in a lower class chheepa family Bhagat Namdev did not have the opportunity to learn about the vedas, the highest knowledge of Brahman. Still, with the grace of the guru's teachings he was able to "meet" Hari.

Lyrics in Punjabi and Hindi

ਆਸਾ ॥

ਪਾਰਬ੍ਰਹਮੁ ਜਿ ਚੀਨ੍ਹ੍ਹਸੀ ਆਸਾ ਤੇ ਨ ਭਾਵਸੀ ॥

ਰਾਮਾ ਭਗਤਹ ਚੇਤੀਅਲੇ ਅਚਿੰਤ ਮਨੁ ਰਾਖਸੀ ॥੧॥

ਕੈਸੇ ਮਨ ਤਰਹਿਗਾ ਰੇ ਸੰਸਾਰੁ ਸਾਗਰੁ ਬਿਖੈ ਕੋ ਬਨਾ ॥

ਝੂਠੀ ਮਾਇਆ ਦੇਖਿ ਕੈ ਭੂਲਾ ਰੇ ਮਨਾ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥

ਛੀਪੇ ਕੇ ਘਰਿ ਜਨਮੁ ਦੈਲਾ ਗੁਰ ਉਪਦੇਸੁ ਭੈਲਾ ॥

ਸੰਤਹ ਕੈ ਪਰਸਾਦਿ ਨਾਮਾ ਹਰਿ ਭੇਟੁਲਾ ॥੨॥੫॥

आसा ॥

पारब्रहमु जि चीन्हसी आसा ते न भावसी ॥

रामा भगतह चेतीअले अचिंत मनु राखसी ॥१॥

कैसे मन तरहिगा रे संसारु सागरु बिखै को बना ॥

झूठी माइआ देखि कै भूला रे मना ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥

छीपे के घरि जनमु दैला गुर उपदेसु भैला ॥

संतह कै परसादि नामा हरि भेटुला ॥२॥५॥

I was composing an Iqbal ghazal today and ran across this beautiful ghazal by Siraj Aurangabadi, a sufi poet form Aurangabad form the 18th century. Khabar-e-tahayyur-e-ishq sun is his most famous ghazal. The following note has three translations for this ghazal. I also came across a great rendition of a few verses of this ghazal as a qawwali by Ustad Farid Ayaz and Ustad Abu Muhammad:

Lyrics

ḳhabar-e-tahayyur-e-ishq sun na junūñ rahā na parī rahī

na to tū rahā na to maiñ rahā jo rahī so be-ḳhabarī rahī

shah-e-be-ḳhudī ne atā kiyā mujhe ab libās-e-barahnagī

na ḳhirad kī baḳhiya-garī rahī na junūñ kī parda-darī rahī

chalī samt-e-ġhaib siiñ kyā havā ki chaman zuhūr kā jal gayā

magar ek shāḳh-e-nihāl-e-ġham jise dil kaho so harī rahī

nazar-e-taġhāful-e-yār kā gila kis zabāñ siiñ bayāñ karūñ

ki sharāb-e-sad-qadah aarzū ḳhum-e-dil meñ thī so bharī rahī

vo ajab ghaḌī thī maiñ jis ghaḌī liyā dars nusḳha-e-ishq kā

ki kitāb aql kī taaq par juuñ dharī thī tyuuñ hī dharī rahī

tire josh-e-hairat-e-husn kā asar is qadar siiñ yahāñ huā

ki na ā.īne meñ rahī jilā na parī kuuñ jalvagarī rahī

kiyā ḳhaak ātish-e-ishq ne dil-e-be-navā-e-'sirāj' kuuñ

na ḳhatar rahā na hazar rahā magar ek be-ḳhatarī rahī

Translation and Discussion

By Kashikeya Vats

Khabar-e-tahayyur-e-ishq sunn, na junoon raha na pari rahi

Na toh tu raha na toh mein raha, jo rahi so be-khabari rahi

On learning the amazing saga of love, neither the frenzy (junoon) was left, nor did the sweetheart (pari) remain. I was ‘me’ no more, you were ‘thee’ no more; only a state of oblivion remained.

This she'r reminds me of the lines from Rumi:

I always thought that

I was me — but no, I was you

and never knew it.

The consciousness of self is obstructive and it is only the removal of 'knowledge' and 'thought' (Rumi has used the words ‘thought’ and ‘knew’) that leads to the state of self-unconsciousness where the lover and the beloved become one.

Shah-e-bekhudi ne ataa kia, mujhay ab libas-e-barahanagi

Na khirad ki bakhiyagari rahi, na junoon ki pardadari rahi

The gift of the ‘Lord of Ecstasy’ to me was a garb of nakedness. All that the wisdom had stitched was gone; the veil of madness no longer remained.

At the spiritual level the couplet can be interpreted like this: My beloved, the shah-e-bekhudi has ripped naked my heart and soul, ridding them of the layers of stitching by the misguided intellect, which is nothing more than a veil of madness. The extreme of love endows the heart with divine purity. Reason and intellect have been viewed as hindrances, and the perceived sanity as madness.

Chali simt-e-ghaib se aik hava, ke chaman zahoor ka jal gaya

Magar aik shakh-e-nihal-e-gham, jise dil kahe so hari rahi

A sweeping wind, which came from beyond the visible world, consumed the visible garden with fire; just one branch on the tree of grief, which they call heart, despite the blaze retained its green.

The reference here is to the lost Paradise, and the perennial quest to re-unite with it. The Divine breeze would burn the worldly existence leaving behind the hope for reunion. The worldly existence (chaman) has been likened to a tree of sorrow and suffering, and the Divine breeze as the liberator. Nothing grows on that tree except sadness, caused by the separation from his beloved. Now that entire existence is gone, only the abode of the beloved (heart) has survived.

Nazar-e-taghaful-e-yaar ka, gila kis zuban se bayan karoon

Ke sharab-e-sad-qadaah aarzu, khum-e-dil mein thi so bhari rahi

I am speechless to complain about the indifferent and uncaring glances (nazar-e-taghaful-e-yaar) of my beloved; the wine of desire that filled the heart remained suppressed, concealed.

At the temporal level, these lines would simply suggest that there is a heart overflowing with desires which one is unable to express due to the indifferent looks of the beloved. At the metaphysical level it would suggest that the worldly desires are often out of sync with the Divine commandments.

Woh ajab ghari thi mein jis ghari, liya dars nuskha-e-ishq ka

Ke kitab aql ki taaq main, jyun dhari thi tyun hi dhari rahi

It was at a moment strange that I read a book of love; the book of reason, brushed aside, remained shelved

and sheathed.

Reason (aql-o-khirad), the product of mind is considered a detriment, hindering the spontaneity of heart. A person guided by logic and reason is too calculative to be able to devote to pure love; whereas selfless love is motivated by heart and not mind. For that reason love and brain are just incompatible. Mind is deceitful, untrustworthy, selfish and devious whereas heart is pure, untainted and selfless. As Iqbal said: bekhatar kuud para aatishe-namrood mein ishq/aql thi mehvi-tamasha-e-lab-baam abhi

Tere josh-e-hairat-e-husn ka, asar iss qadar so yahan hua

Ke na aayine main jila rahi, na pari kuun jalva gari rahi

Your bewitching beauty, love, such a spell did cast; the mirror stood bereft of gloss and beauty seemed to freeze.

Bewildered by your beauty (Josh-e-hairat-e-husn), I had such a mark on my heart (yahan is a pointer towards the heart) that the heart (aayina , the mirror of heart) has lost all its shine (the basic quality of a mirror) and angel (pari is used as simile to refer profound beauty) had no beauty left to reveal (‘kuun’means ko).

Kiya khak aatish-e-ishq ne dil-e-benava-e-Siraj ko

Na khatar raha na hazar raha, magar aik be-khatari rahi

The fire of love reduced to ashes Siraj’s voiceless heart; fears and cares got consumed, intrepid courage held the field.

The fire of love (aatish-e-ishq) has burnt the voiceless heart (dil-e-benava) of Siraj to ashes. The heart is so liberated from fears (be-khatari) that there is no feeling of vulnerability or threat left. (As Iqbal has used the word bekhatar: bekhatar kood para aatish-e-namrood mein ishq).

Second Translation

trans: Divana Nakujabadi [Saiyad Nizamuddin Ahmad]

The Tale of Love’s Perplexity (khabar-e tahayyur-e 'ishq)

[1] Hearken to the tale of Love’s [metaphysical] perplexity:

neither the ardour of madness remained,

nor the angelic beloved remained;

Neither did you remain, nor did I remain,

only unawareness remained.

[2] The Shah of no-self-ness has now bestowed upon me

the garment of nakedness;

Neither the stitching of reason remained,

neither the veiling of madness’ ardour remained.

[3] A wind blew from the threshold of the unseen,

and the garden of bliss was consumed.

Yet, but a branch of the tree of sorrow

―known as the heart― green remained.

[4] With which tongue am I to recount the indifference of the beloved?

Desire akin to the wine of a hundred goblets brimmed up

in the vessel of the heart yet, therein remained.

[5] What a marvelous instant it was that I learned of the elixir of Love!

The book of reason placed on the shelf,

on the shelf remained.

[6] The intensity of the perplexity of your beauty,

was so brilliantly revealed, that

neither the mirror’s shine remained,

neither the angelic beloved’s beauty remained.

[7] The fire of love has reduced the mute heart of Siraj to ashes,

neither fright remained,

nor caution remained,

only

fearlessness remained.

Third Translation

Khabar-e-tahayyur-e-ishq sunn, na junoon raha na pari rahi

Na toh tu raha na toh mein raha, jo rahi so be-khabari rahi

Learn oh absorbing love that neither the obsession (for the beloved) is left nor and the object (pari) of love survived. The only thing that is left is a state of self-unconsciousness: where neither you exist nor I exist.

Shah-e-bekhudi ne ataa kia, mujhay ab libas-e-barahanagi

Na khirad ki bakhiyagari rahi, na junoon ki pardadari rahi

My beloved (shah-e-bekhudi is a reference to the beloved. Knowing what little I know about Siraj I am leaning towards God as his object of love rather then a worldly being) has bestowed me with a dress of nakedness (libas-e-barahanagi). Neither the intellect (khirad) can repair it nor does the insanity (junoon) rip it. Meaning what a dress (nakedness) my beloved has conferred upon me! I am now free from the trouble of ripping it or mending it (depending on the mental state I am in). My focus is my beloved not my own appearance or even existence.

Chali simt-e-ghaib se aik hava, ke chaman zahoor ka jal gaya

Magar aik shakh-e-nihal-e-gham, jise dil kahe so hari rahi

A breeze came from the outer space (simt-e-ghaib) and burned the entire garden of existence (zahoor) but a branch of the tree of sorrow (nihal-e-gham) that is called heart remained green. Since in the first line poet is referring to a wind coming from the direction of God (ghaib) that has burned the whole existence (chaman) it can be assumed that tree of sorrow is a symbol of the poets own being. In the burned garden of existence he stood like a sad tree. Nothing grows on that tree except sadness, caused by the separation from his beloved. Now that entire existence is gone, only the abode of the beloved (heart) is survived.

Nazar-e-taghaful-e-yaar ka, gila kis zuban se bayan karoon

Ke sharab-e-sad-qadaah aarzu, khum-e-dil mein thi so bhari rahi

I am speechless (kis zuban). How can I complain the indifferent and uncaring glances (nazar-e-taghaful-e-yaar) of my beloved? After reading, the second line it is clear that he trying to say that I cannot complain about those cold looks or eyes that have granted me so much. I am indebted to those eyes. Why? My heart is brimming with his desire (aarzu) as if a vessel (khum) is filled with hundred goblets of wine (sharaab-e-sad-qadaah).

Woh ajab ghari thi mein jis ghari, liya dars nuskha-e-ishq ka

Ke kitab aql ki taaq main, jyun dhari thi tyun hi dhari rahi

In Urdu poetry, reason (aql-o-khirad) the product of mind is considered a source of selfishness and as it causes a person to make calculated move; as against altruistic emotions that come out of heart. A thoughtful person thinks about the consequences before taking any action. That is why it is assumed that a selfless love is motivated by heart and not mind. For that reason love and brain are just incompatible. Mind is deceitful, untrustworthy, selfish and devious whereas heart is pure, untainted and selfless. As Iqbal said:

bekhatar kuud para aatishe-namrood mein ishq aql thi mehvi-tamasha-e-lab-baam abhi

That is what Siraj is saying that at that strange moment when I started taking lesson in love (dars-e-nuskha-e-ishq) I left my intellect or brain (kitaab-e-aql- book is synonymous with intellect as one needs brain to read or write) in an alcove, where it is lying ever since.

Tere josh-e-hairat-e-husn ka, asar iss qadar so yahan hua

Ke na aayine main jila rahi, na pari kuun jalva gari rahi

Bewildered by your beauty (Josh-e-hairat-e-husn), I had such a mark on my heart (yahan is a pointer towards the heart) that the heart (aayina means heart) has lost all its shine (the basic quality of a mirror) and angel (pari is used as simile to refer profound beauty) had no beauty left to reveal. (â€œsoâ€ means se and â€œkuunâ€ means ko).

Kiya khak-e-aatish-e-ishq ne dil-e-benava-e-Siraj ko

Na khatar raha na hazar raha, magar aik be-khatari rahi

The fire of love (aatish-e-ishq) has burned the voiceless heart (dil-e-benava) of Siraj to the ashes. There is no feeling of vulnerability or threat left. Only freedom from fear (be-khatari) is left. (As Iqbal has used the word bekhatar: bekhatar kood para aatish-e-namrood mein ishq.)

What does this have to do with us now?

Original Poem by Faiz

Translation

The Best Lines — and Why They Stay

The Guest House

The Original Persian: Masnavi Book 5, Sections 154–156

Transliterated Selections:

Expansions in Section 156

The Other Translations: Nicholson and Helminski

Why Coleman Barks Works Better

What Translators Can Learn

Reynold Nicholson's translation:

Kabir Helminski's translation

Punjabi Translation (Shivpreet Singh)

Please Come Late

Ranjish hi Sahi

Please Come Late

Kuchh Hosh Bhi Hai Ae Dast-e-junoon

Lyrics in Hindi

Lyrics in English: Kuch hosh bhi hai dast-e-junoon dekh kya hua

Butte Ayyar - The Sly Beloved

Persian Lyrics and Alternative Urdu/English Translation

Persian Lyrics

Urdu Translation

English translation

Introduction and Video - Kaise Man Tarega Re

Lyrics and Translation in English

Āsā - Shabad by Bhagat Namdev

Aasaa - Translation by Bhai Manmohan Singh

Original Translation

Vocabulary and Shabad Discussion

Aasaa/Asa

Paarbrahm

Chheepa

Lyrics in Punjabi and Hindi

Lyrics

Translation and Discussion

Second Translation

Third Translation

SHIVPREET SINGH

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