Monthly Archives: March 2014

The hardest thing in the world…

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ahh, who hasn’t felt like this…

Translation:
The hardest thing in the world
is studied and learned well
I tried to study your love
Because I couldn’t understand it,
I suffer and cry like a child

 

Before the image of Christ
I saw her crying one day
Striking her chest
because she was repenting for
the damage she had done to me

 

Original:

Lo más difícil del mundo
Se estudia y se aprende bien
Me puse a estudiar tu cariño
Y no lo pude comprender
Por eso sufro y lloro como un niño

Ante la imagen de cristo
La vi que lloraba un día
Y golpes se daba en el pecho
Porque estaba arrepentida
Del daño que me había hecho

Hafez
How can I untie this knot? How can I show this wound?
It is a pain, a harsh pain. It is work, a hard work.
چون اين گره گشايم وين ريش چهن نمايم
دردى و صعب دردى كارى و سخت كارى

An excerpt from another one of his ghazals:
 
Translation:
My tall beloved, so flirtatious
made short work of my long story of asceticism

O heart, did you see what my love-seeking eye did to me
in my old age, after all that asceticism and learning?

I tried to conceal the sign of love beneath my cloak of pride
but my tear was a tattletale and spread my secret

Now I’m drawing a picture on water with my tears
And wondering when this metaphor of mine will become real

I fear losing my faith, for the prayer-niche of your eyebrow
takes away the presence of my prayers

I smile as I cry to myself, like a candle, and wonder
What my burning patience could do to a stone heart like yours?

 

Original:
الابلند عشوه گر نقش باز من                                  کوتاه کرد قصه زهد دراز من
دیدی دلا که آخر پیری و زهد و علم                    با من چه کرد دیده معشوقه باز من
گفتم به دلق زرق بپوشم نشان عشق                    غماز بود اشک و عیان کرد راز من
نقشی بر آب می‌زنم از گریه حالیا                         تا کی شود قرین حقیقت مجاز من
می‌ترسم از خرابی ایمان که می‌برد                      محراب ابروی تو حضور نماز من
بر خود چو شمع خنده زنان گریه می‌کنم           تا با تو سنگ دل چه کند سوز و ساز من

and my own…

She stabbed me, but she took the knife
Time came and took the wound
And all I have left from that night:
A scarred face like the moon

 

 

 

Like a Candle…

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from Figs and Thistles: First Fig

BY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY

My candle burns at both ends;
   It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
   It gives a lovely light!

 

Source: Poetry (June 1918).

 

 

Hafez

Translation:

In faithfulness to your love, I am famous like the candle
In the street of the rends, I burn all night like the candle
Day and night, sleep slips away, from my grief-stricken eyes
Sick from separation, my red eyes weep like the candle
The mountain of my patience melted like wax in your grief’s hand
Since I began to burn and melt in your love like the candle
My string of patience’s cut by the scissors of your hair
But still, in your love’s fire, I am smiling like the candle
If the horse of my rosy tear had not been so swift
How could my secret shine out everywhere just like the candle?
As ever, my poor desperate heart is occupied with you
Shedding tears of water and of flame just like the candle
Without your world-adorning beauty, my day is like the night
Within your love’s perfection, I am fading like the candle
Honor me with union for one night, o wild one
and with your visit, brighten up my house like the candle
Like the morning, your coming is just a breath away
Show your face, so I can give my soul up like the candle
In exile’s night, send me a promise of union, or else
With this fire, I’ll burn down the whole world like the candle
It’s amazing how your love lit Hafez all on fire
How can I quench my heart’s fire with tears, like the candle?

 

 

Original:

دروفایعشقتومشهورخوبانمچوشمـع
شبنشینکویسربازانورندانمچوشمع
روزوشبخوابمنمی‌آیدبهچشمغمپرست
بـسکهدربیماریهجرتوگریانمچوشمع
کوهصبرمنرمشدچونمومدردستغمـت
تادرآبوآتشعشقتگدازانمچوشـمـع
رشتـهصـبرمبهمقراضغمتببریدهشد
همـچـناندرآتشمهرتوسوزانمچوشمع
گرکـمیتاشـکگلگونمنـبودیگرمرو
کیشدیروشنبهگیتیرازپنهانمچوشمع
درمیانآبوآتشهمچنانسرگرمتوسـت
ایندلزارنزاراشـکبارانـمچوشـمـع
بیجمالعالمآرایتوروزمچونشباست
باکمالعشقتودرعیننقصانمچوشمـع
سرفرازمکنشبیازوصـلخوداینازنین
تامـنورگرددازدیدارتایوانمچوشـمـع
همـچوصبحمیکنفسباقیستبادیدارتو
چـهرهبنمادلبراتاجانبرافشانمچوشمع
درشـبهجرانمراپروانهوصلیفرسـت
ورنهازدردتجهانیرابسوزانمچوشمـع
آتـشمـهرتوراحافظعجبدرسرگرفت

siyavash

Ibn al-Fāriḍ

 

If not for my sighs, these tears would drown me
If not for these tears, my sighs would scorch me

 

ولولا زفيري ٔاغرقتني ٔادمعي
ولولا دموعي ٔاحرقتني زفرتي

Abraham_ready_to_sacrifice_his_son,_Ishmael_(top);_Abraham_cast_into_fire_by_Nimrod_(bottom)

John Donne

 

Hero and Leander

 

Both robb’d of air, we both lie in one ground ;
Both whom one fire had burnt, one water drown’d

 

A Burnt Ship

Out of a fired ship, which by no way
But drowning could be rescued from the flame,
Some men leap’d forth, and ever as they came
Near the foes’ ships, did by their shot decay;
So all were lost, which in the ship were found,
      They in the sea being burnt, they in the burnt ship drown’d.

Rumi

A candle is made to become entirely flame.
In that annihilating moment
it has no shadow.
It is nothing but a tongue of light
describing a refuge.
Look at this
just-finishing candle stub
as someone who is finally safe
from virtue and vice,
the pride and the shame
we claim from those.
(Coleman Barks’ “translation”)

 

There is a candle in the heart of man, waiting to be kindled.
In separation from the Friend, there is a cut waiting to be stitched.
O, you who are ignorant of endurance and the burning fire of love–
Love comes of its own free will, it can’t be learned in any school.

 

THE SHIP SUNK IN LOVE

Should Love’s heart rejoice unless I burn?
For my heart is Love’s dwelling.
If You will burn Your house, burn it, Love!
Who will say, ‘It’s not allowed’?
Burn this house thoroughly!
The lover’s house improves with fire.
From now on I will make burning my aim,
From now on I will make burning my aim,
for I am like the candle: burning only makes me brighter.
Abandon sleep tonight; traverse for one night
the region of the sleepless.
Look upon these lovers who have become distraught
and like moths have died in union with the One Beloved.
Look upon this ship of God’s creatures
and see how it is sunk in Love.

Mathnawi VI, 617-623
The Rumi Collection, Edited by Kabir Helminski


O light, from seeing your beauty, my soul became candle-like
Turn my fortune so I can shed myself candle-like
The promise of the morning breeze, of joining Thee day and night
Burning, yellow, shaking, crying and humble, candle-like.
Thy flowing hair, like scissors sheer my soul at its height
In this fire of separation burn me no more, candle-like.
Pearls overflowing from the sea of my eye, fill my bosom in delight
My burning heart sent its flames blazing upward, candle-like.
Solar flares set in the celestial lantern, sooth the sight
Every morn dam my tears and shed no more, candle-like.
Thy face is spring-like, thy fire sorrows fight
How long burn in this solstice of separation, candle-like?
From the memory of thy light, every night flames take flight
If only my heart’s fire would burn my soul candle-like.
How long burn thyself Shams-e Tabrizi, thy love beaming bright?
We know of nothing other than this burning, candle-like.
(trans. by Shahriar Shahriari)

 

Original:

ای منور از جمالت دیده ی جانم چو شمع
از در بختم درآ تا جان بر افشانم چو شمع

از هوای خنده ی صبح وصالت روز و شب
زرد و لرزان و گدازان زار و گریانم چو شمع

زلف چون مقراض بر كش رشته جانم ببر
بیش از این در آتش هجران مسوزانم چو شمع

آستین و دامنم پر در شد از دریای عشق
تا علم زد آتش دل از گریبانم ، چو شمع

آتش خورشید را ، در مشعل سبز فلك
هر سحر از آبگیر دیده ، بنشانم چو شمع

ای رخت نوروز عالم زآتش ، جانسوز شمع
چند سوزی در شب یلدای هجرانم چو شمع

آفتاب از خاطرم ، شعله فروزد هر شبی
آتش دل گر بسوزد ، رشته ی جانم چو شمع

چند سوزی خویشتن را شمس تبریزی ز عشق
ماورای سوختن ، كاری نمیدانم چو شمع

Ana Moura

Translation:

My eyes are two candles
Casting a sad light on my face
Your eyes are two candles
Casting a sad light on my face

Marked by the pains
Of longing and grief

When I hear the ringing of the bells
And the afternoon is coming to an end

I pray, out of longing for you
An “Our Father” for me

But you do not know how to pray
Nor how to ache with longing

Why do you disturb me so
Why do I want you so much?

For my despair you are like
The clouds that fly high

Every day I wait for you
Every day you stand me up

Original:

Os meus olhos são dois círios
Dando luz triste ao meu rosto
Os teus olhos são dois círios
Dando luz triste ao meu rosto
Marcado pelos martírios
Da saudade e do desgosto.

Quando oiço bater trindades
E a tarde já vai no fim

Eu peço às tuas saudades
Um padre nosso por mim.Mas não sabes fazer preces
Não tens saudades nem pranto

Por que é que tu me aborreces
Por que é que eu te quero tanto?

És para meu desespero
Como as nuvens que andam altas

Todos os dias te espero
Todos os dias me faltas.

 From http://lyricstranslate.com/

Maranâus

I am not happiness, but only
The tragic substance that produces it.
In the great darkness, I am a burning flambeau
And I don’t see my own light.

 

Original:

Eu não sou a alegria, mas apenas
A trágica matéria que a produz.
Na grande escuridão, sou facho a arder
E não avisto minha própria luz!

 

(Pascoaes, 1920, p.216)

 

Flee

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❊ ففرّوا الى الله ❊

So flee to God… (Qur’an 51:50)

 

اعوذ بك منك

I seek refuge in You from You (Hadith)

Rumi

Flee to God’s Qur’an, take refuge in it
there with the spirits of the prophets merge.
The Book conveys the prophets’ circumstances
those fish of the pure sea of Majesty.

 

I long to escape the prison of my ego
and lose myself in you.

 

There is no salvation for the soul
but to fall in Love.
Only lovers can escape
out of these two worlds.
This was ordained in creation.
Only from the heart
can you reach the sky:
The Rose of Glory
can grow only from the heart.

 

Hafez 

( the poem inscribed on his tomb)
مژده‌ى وصل تو كو كز سر جان برخيزم
طاير قدسم و از دام جهان برخيزم
Where are the tidings of union with you, so that from life I may rise?
I am a bird of heaven, from the world’s snare I must rise
به ولاى تو كه گر بنده‌ى خويشم خوانى
از سر خواجگى كون و مكان برخيزم
I swear by your love, if you call me your slave
From the mastery of the universe I will rise
يارب از ابر هدايت برسان بارانى
پيشتر زانكه چو گردى ز ميان برخيزم
O Lord, let the cloud of guidance rain
Before that time when, like dust from the earth, I rise
بر سر تربت من با مى و مطرب بنشين
تا ببويت ز لحد رقص‌كنان برخيزم
Sit beside my grave with musician and wine
So from your scent, dancing from the dust, I may rise
خيز و بالا بنما اى بت شيرين‌حركات
كه چو حافظ ز سر جان و جهان برخيزم
 O sweetly-moving idol, rise and show me your shape
So, like Hafez, from life and world, dancing, I may rise
گرچه پيرم، تو شبى تنگ درآغوشم كش
تا سحرگه ز كنار تو جوان برخيزم
Though I am old, for one night, in your bosom hold me tight
So when morning comes, young from your embrace, I may rise

Norah Jones

 

 The Beatles

If you are sweet…

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Some of my favorite verses of poetry…

 

The captive prince Abu Firas Hamadani penned this plea to his cousin,
the famous Sayf al-Dawla. The latter, however, didn’t ransom the poet,
leaving him imprisoned for years to write some of the most beautiful poetry (collected as the Rūmiyāt) of a language of incredible poets.  Maybe Sayf liked his cousin’s poetry more than he liked having him back…

In any event, as often happens with poetry of exceptional beauty that strikes a universal chord, these verses were adopted by the Sufis and attributed to various saintly figures, demonstrating the unity and universality of Love and longing in all its forms.

 

Translation:

As long as you’re sweet, let life be bitter
As long as you’re pleased, let all men be wroth
As long as there’s a bond between me and you
Let all between me and the worlds be in ruins
If truly you love me, then all things are easy
And let all that’s over the dust, be dust

 

 

Original:
فليتك تحلو والحياة مريرة            وليتك ترضى والأنام غضاب
وليت الذي بيني وبينك عامر              وبيني وبين العالمين خراب
إذا صح منك الود فالكل هين             وكل الذي فوق التراب تراب