|عنوان||شاھ جو رسالو|
|شارح / محقق||ايلسا قاضي|
|ڇپائيندڙ||ثقافت کاتو، حڪومتِ سنڌ|
|ڇپجڻ جي تاريخ||2000-01-01|
The One Creator, the all greats;
Lord of the universe
The living, the original;
Ruler with power innate;
The giver, the sustainer,
the unique , compassionate;
This master praise, to Him alone
Thy self in praise prostrate..
The generous, who does create
the universe in pairs.
None shares His glory, "He was is, shall be "who this doth say
Accepts Mohammad as 'guide' with heart and love's true sway;
None from amongst those lost their way or ever went astray.
“He is without a partner”, when this glorious news you break
With love and knowledge, Mohammad accept as cause him take
Why would you then obeisance make to others after that?
From One, many to being came; 'many' but Oneness is;
Don't get confounded, Reality is 'One',
this truth don't miss Commotions vast display
All this I vow, of Loved one is.
The Echo and the call are same,
if you sound's secret knew,
They both were one,
But two became only when "hearing" came.
A thousand doors and windows too,
the palace has, but see;
Wherever I might go or be
Master confronts me there!
If you have learnt to long, by pain be not distressed
Secret of love's sorrow must be
Suffering is by the heart caressed, and there it is preserved.
The poison-drinking lovers, lured by poison sweet,
Drink more and more; To bitterness of fatal cup,
the poison-drinkers are inured,
Though wounds are festering, and uncured,
No whispers to the vulgar goes.
All from Beloved's side is sweet whatever He gives to you.
There is no bitter, if you knew the secret how to taste.
There is a call to gallows, friends, will any of you go?
Those who do talk of love may Know to gallows they must speed.
If you a draught desire
to tavern find your way;
Thy head do sever, and that head beside the barrel lay;
Only when you this price do pay then few cups you may quaff.
The genuine lover, for his head care and concern has none;
He cuts it off joins it with breath as gift then hands it on;
Carves down to shoulders, form loved one then begs for love's return.
To guard and to preserve the head, the lover's business is not this.
One of beloved's glance is worth so many hundreds head of his,
Flesh, skin and bone, and all there is , the 'least ' of loved one , equals not.
سر يمن ڪلياڻ
Thou art the friend; the healer thou;
For every pain the remedy;
Cure for my heart, thy voice alone
the only cure it is for me;
The reason why I call for thee
is none can cure my heart but thou.
Thou art the friend, the Healer thou;
For every ailment balm dost send;
Merciful God! All drugs are vain;
The pains by drugs will never end;
Unless ordered by thee O friend,
No drug will ever sickness cure.
Thou art the friend, the Healer thou;
For sufferings thou the remedy;
Thou divest; curtest disease, dost guide,
Master thou art eternally;
Yet, I am wonderstruck to see,
that you physicians still provide.
Strike friend; thy hand raise, favour me;
Hold not your hand, and should I die.
By such death I shall honored be;
which through this wound is caused.
Today still groans the thatches fill,
Where wounded lie and suffer;
Although it is their twilight,
Still same ointment there and dressing.
Poor wounded ones, so restless grow,
Yet grateful are for pain;
For ever forward wish to go,
And here would not remain.
Mother, I cannot trust in those
Whose eyes with tears do over-flow;
Who bring the water to their eyes,
Their sorrow to the world to show;
Who love Beloved, hide their woe,
No tears they show, nor speak about.
Physician, blundering and unwise,
you cauterise my skin,
and treat With slops my heart-ache,
know to whom scaffold a bridal-bed supplies,
The one beatific vision lies
which is the union sweet.
Physicians you consulted but
dieting you ignored.
Had you obeyed, perhaps restored to health you would be now.
Physicians were my neighbours
I ne'er asked their advice
Therefore I find that in mine eyes cataracts I now have formed.
Ah! suddenly they found themselves in sphere of love...and there
They cut their heads, left trunks apart such garland they did wear!
Beauteous they were...to loved ones fair I saw them give their heads away!
Go to the moth, the surest way of immolation ask
The moths, who throw themselves into the fire every day;
Whose tender hearts became a prey to cupid's arrow sharp.
The moths assembled, gathering above a raging fire.
Heat drove them not,
no fear they had, flames did their hearts inspire,
Their necks they lost,
and on the pyre of truth they burnt themselves.
If you call yourself a moth,
from blaze return not terrified; Enter by the loved-one's light
and be ever glorified
You are still unbaked...beside not yet with kiln acquainted are.
If you call yourself a moth,
then come, put out the fires sway, Passion has so many baked
but you roast passion's 'Self' today
Passion's flame with knowledge slay.
of this to base folk give no hint.
Happy those who acquaintance make with goodly grinding wheel
Their rapiers never then shall take to rust, nor will corrode.
Apprentice of the blacksmith, works the bellows not with care;
Not close to fire goes, he fears love sparks that issue there.
And yet proclaims he everywhere; "full-fledged blacksmith am I"!
Turn your head into an anvil, then for smithy do enquire,
There the hammer-strokes of fire may turn you into steel.
When I an arrow do receive on that spot I remain;
Perhaps my Hero-love again will strike in mercy sweet.
Physician give no medicine. may health I never see...
May be, enquiring after me my love to me will come.
Sacrifice your head, and 'suffer' if loved-ones send dismay.
Say not, 'Forsaken' 't is their way like this to form their links
Those that cut me up, became
the kindly surgeon too
The wound they quickly dressed, and cured within a day the same
Oh heart! and now make this your aim "stay with them, and be safe from wounds"
As long there is no need, so long physician is not here.
But when one day pain does appear it is as though the leech had come!
They read and read, but what they read their hearts refuse to store
The more they pages turn, the more are deeply steeped in sin.
O friend, why are you still inclined to waste paper and ink
Go rather forth and try to find the source where words were formed.
The world with 'I' doth overflow and with it flaunts about
But its own 'Self' it doth not know .
It is a magician's spell.
They do not heed the glorious line that does begin with 'A'.
In vain they look for the Divine, though page on page they turn.
You only read the letter 'A', all other pages put aside
Book-reading nothing will convey but your being purify.
Unuttered is unknown...the uttered is never understood.
Behold, Although it be as true as gold, humanity takes never note.-
By 'giving' they were hurt,
to them contentment brought So they became sufis,
as nougat they did take with themselves.
To hear vile words, and not return, but hear them silently;
This is the pearl, most precious pearl, we in guide's teaching see
But decked with jewels he will be who with 'Silence' the Ego kills.
Those who never forgot the sorrow,
and lesson learnt of woe
The slate of thought within both hands; 'silence' they study so
They only read page which does show Beloved's lovely face.
Patience, humanity adopt,
For anger is disease
Forbearance bringeth joy and 'peace',
if you would understand.
The inoffensive don't offend
forget who do offend
In this refined and cultured way thy day and night do spend
Thus meditating, humbly walk, until thy life doth end
A Lawyer keep within, O friend, to blush not, facing judge.
As long as of this daily world no glimpses you obtain
A perfect view you will not gain of your love Heavenly.
True lovers never will forget their love Divine,
until one day Their final breath will pass away as tearful sigh.
A moonlit night, an open plain,
and so for yet to go;
My camel look not back, for you
It is shame to waver so;
Be steady, resolute, and show
my loved-ones you can reach
O full moon! though you rise adorned,
your beauty to enhance;
You are not a blink worth of my love
With all charms you advance,
Since your whole being but one glance of the Beloved is.
A hundred suns may rise,
and blaze four score-four moons may shine;
I vow, without Beloved mine
I am in darkest night
O moon, by magic fade away;
may you be shorn of light
Or hide yourself so that I might
the soul's Beloved meet.
In darkest midnight,
the Beloved shows himself so clear;
the moon and Pleiades disappear
yea, like an echo mere.
O moon, cast first thy silver-ray
on the Beloved when you rise;
And for thy Maker's sake,
O moon message of helpless one convey;
"My hopeful longing eyes,
thy way with tears are watching every day."
O moon, the moment that you rise
first glance at the Beloved cast
Say to the dear one: I am sick
In you my only comfort lies
"My hopeful and relying eyes
Are ever set expecting you"
O moon, when you ascend the skies
first glance at the Beloved cast
My message to the friend convey
Correctly all, and all precise
"M y hopeful and relying eyes
are ever set expecting thee"
Rise moon, see the Beloved-thou art near and far am I
Presence of Him in scented dews
I feel, that in night doth lie
On foot I cannot reach and
father gives camel can't supply
On which riding, ere dawn draws
nigh I easily could reach.
I shall die longing, love is kind but
Oh...so far is He
Father gives camel not to me
I am too weak to walk.
To the Beloved, when you rise
O moon, thy very first glance send;
And all the message I give
O moon, convey in truthful wise;
"My hopeful and relying eyes
are ever set expecting you."
Thy glance let the Beloved meet,
O moon, and my requests submit Befittingly;
above courtyard of the Beloved bow and greet;
Speak gently...on Beloved's feet
both of thy light-hands softly lay.
O moon, all my entreaties safe
into thy shining garment tie,
Low' ring your head, to loved one tell
in what a wretched state am I;
Remember; to the place you hie
That is whole universe's Hope.
O camel! spurn thy slothful mood
No longer now delay!
But once unite me with my love
no more the truant play,
But speed, ere night doth pass away
to meet my love after.
I must go where my love resides;
to the Beloved speed!
There I shall give thee sandal-wood
and thou shall no more feed
On salt-bush coarse, unfit for thee
or any worthless weed;
O hasten! there is urgent need
to reach while night doth last.
Arise and take a forward step
be not an idler base;
The highway to my love is straight
and hath no winding ways...
Self-pity drop...a gallop raise
to bring us swift and soon.
Remember your ancestry,
and your forebear's noble breed;
Your stock is well-known near and far
and you do hold indeed;
Rare pedigree-and so we plead
show us some kindness now.
I bound him near some glorious tree
that he some buds might eat;
Ill-mannered camel, on the sly
still finds the salt-bush sweet.
Woe's me-I know not how to treat
Camel that so confounds.
I tried to saddle him, but e'en
unsaddled he'd not rise
The way the herd is gone,
he lies and only gapes that side.
My camel, I will give thee reins
of gold, and trappings fine;
Not only buds of sandal wood
but thou on myrrh shalt dine;
If to the one Beloved mine
thou wilt bring me this night.
The camel did forget the herd,
nor e'en will salt-bush eat...
His blown-up hump has now become
his pampered passion's seat Alas,
this callous, new conceit
he'll not drop unto death.
He goes not with the herd of late
and no more will he graze;
Since Cupid's arrow wounded him
he hugs a curious craze;
To his new love, with love-sick gaze
he crawls, defying death.
Now sits with herd, musk-branches eats;
yet calm remains his face
Ah me, apparently my camel
shows no outward trace.
'Here' he is with the world, but graze
with heart doth fondly 'there'.
He's not what he was yesterday
returning to the yard;
He never at the manager
looks all food doth disregard;
Seems, poison creepers on the sward
he ate when with the herd.
With zest thee camel browses now
on creepers such as made him yearn;
But owners, keepers of the field,
with shouts his sweet indulgence spurn
The poor intruder, powerless
he grows from voices harsh and stern;
No answer finds he in return
and all his arduous madness flies.
Good animal, what you did put
your teeth in, finding them so sweet;
These baneful creepers if you eat
will bring you yet to grief and woe.
Torrents of rain and wind-camel
there obstinate he lies
How shall I saddle him when rise
unsaddled he will not.
A solid braided rope construct,
with this your camel blind,
The fragrant creepers everywhere
all over grounds you'll find,
Once tasted, he will leave behind
all else, if he's not tied.
I fettered him with rope and chain,
but shackles were in vain;
He broke them all, and dragged them on
where creepers decked the plain
O God, put sense and understanding
in this camel's brain
With mercy free him from this pain
to rise above this curse.
O rise, and to thy haven far
thy earthbound glances bear,
May be a happy welcome there
awaits thee from thy love.
No-go and shackle him,
he will run wild if left alone;
By tempting him to cat, he'll play
more pranks, but won't alone;
Load him and let him graze and groan
with heavy fetters bound.
Who laid a spell on you? and who
waylaid you, wished you ill?
Blinkers you wear-your soles
rubbed off your kind not meet you will;
And round and round,
as in a mill you circumambulate.
My comely camel,
won't you eat the sandal wood
and drink your fill
Of cleanest purest water,
food the finest you refuse it still
What law gave you the tasty thrill
of salt-bush mere, above all else?
At last, my camel every day
is browsing in that garden, where
Two tree-shoots are worth millions there
handful of leaves are thousands worth.
Two tree-shoots are worth millions...
nay one leaf alone five lakhs will be
Now to enrich his soul he eats,
the wholesome blossoms of this tree
Here e'en a withered leaf we see
is many, many hundreds worth.
My lakhs-worth camel,
that I bought for hundreds,
For any eye to see; don't blame
and say too dearly he was bought.
My invaluable camel, friend,
no praise is now for him too high;
His manager fill with cardamoms then saddle him,
and he will fly,
All distance he will defy,
and here and now the Loved-one reach.
The minstrel came to Junagarh
and here took out his lyre;
With his entrancing melodies
he did all hearts inspire;
With his bewitching magic-strings
he set whole town on fire
But palace-servants, princesses,
were struck with anguish dire;
"That Raja's head was bard's desire,
lute spoke in accents clear."
The bard at though a living string
played with humility;
The Raja in his palace fine,
to hear him did agree;
He mercifully called him in,
and met him graciously
Then prince and bard, one harmony,
one single 'self' became!
"I travelled many foreign lands,
and have arrived today;
Poor minstrel I, no treasures crave
but for your life I pray
To win this favour, let me play,
Oh Sir, the time is short."
"Leaving all other doors, O king
I wandered to your door!
Blest Sorth's husband,
see my need a beggar doth implore,
His empty apron fill once more
and happiness restore!"
The king sat on his glistening dais,
the bard below him played;
The faintest note of music sweet
up to the Raja sped
To private folks that could not come
the minstrel too was led;
Fine horses were produced, rare gems,
before the bard were spread,
Who said: “no wealth like this,
but head of Raja do I claim!”
No jewels can the minstrel please
no wealth, no property
From riches and from great rewards
His only wish is, near to be
the giver of this wealth.
prince said: “I'll gladly sacrifice
My head for thee O Bard,
Although this is a small reward
For all thy music's worth.
“Were I to own a hundred heads
And weigh them with thy strings
Behold the scale, how down it swings
On side of strings divine!
“O Friend, my head is only bone:
An empty, empty bone
If thousand heads my neck would own,
I'll cut them all for thee!”
The strings, the dagger and the neck
were reconciled all thee
King said: “nought is so lovely than
your wish to come to me,
My head you craved, most heartily
I do thank God for that.”
“But singer, it astounded me,
That while you played your strain.
How could its sweetness you survive?
And could alive remain?
Last night, my being all in twain
was by your music cut.”
The flower of Girnar plucked;
The town is plunged in mourn and pain,
Hundreds like Sorath stand and raise
Their lamentations all in vain
The minstrel, holding lock, receives
The prince's head adorned again
While virgins chant the sad refrain;
"Last night the Raja passed away."
Sorath is dead; and all is peace
Ruler removed his tents
There are no singings and no shows,
no tuneful elements.-
And after this, artist presents
The head again to king!
Sorath is dead, and all is peace
Raja pitches his tents;
Music is heard again.
the show goes on with merriments
Echo sounds song's sweet sentiments.
Behold, the happy king!
In Infinitude I toss,
O guide no bound perceive mine eyes
Tortuous beauty of the Loved,
Has no limit, has no size
Here intensive longing lies,
There the Loved-ones do not care!
Cursed be duality, Beloved,
From 'Self' do shelter me
O, hold the 'I' near thee,
But thou canst reach 'thyself', O master.
But thou canst reach 'thyself' master;
Nothing but Beauty is;
O doubter, couldst thou doubt dismiss,
There's no Idea then left.
Beloved, hold the 'I' near thee;
All self-concern I've cast from me;
Protector mine, with duality
I wasted far too many days!
That is real dualism, when
Non-dualist yourself you call;
Be shorn of separateness, and
'Ego' let not thy soul enthral;
For 'this', doth not exist at all;
And 'that' not known is without 'this'.
'That' is not known without 'this', and From 'this',
'that' doth not separate stand; "Human my secret is, and I
Am his, that thou must understand"
This voice did sound from end to end,
By seers, and the knowing ones.
No one who loaded is with 'Self';
The other side will see,
For God is one, and Oneness loves;
So, spurn duality;
And all thy anxious tears “to be”,
Shed at altar of unity.
The servant too has no beginning,
And no end shall see
Who the Beloved found, shall be
Absorbed forever there.
Everyone knows where he is
I know not where I stand;
Guides and books there many are,
And they are close at hand
But I, do seek the distant land
Where 'yes' and 'no' are not.
'Yes' and 'no', still within reach
Of earthly idea are;
But beyond all vision far
Is the Beauty that I seek.
Sometime or other, beauteous forms
Will be overwhelming thee;
But falcon of Reality,
Let not heedlessly escape.
The sensuous beauty thrashed me so
As carders cotton beat;
And now my hands are obsolete,
My body's paralyzed.
Confound thy senses, and renounce
Thy 'Self'...Him-knowing be;
To recognize the Loved-one, drop
And then coarse multiplicity
With unity destroy.
The Loved-one bound me
Threw me into waters deep;
And said: “Now dry do keep,
And getting wet avoid.”
One that is into water thrown
From getting wet, how could be free?
Enlightened one, this mystery
How I might solve it, say.
“Rely on contemplation, but
Of law neither neglectful be.
Your heart get used to Reality
Which is your Destiny to see;
Be resolute, and verily
You'll be immune from getting wet.”
Ah, Reality broke my
Existence, so that I;
Can no more breathe without it,
In its presence high;
My soul suffused doth lie,
Exclusive of all else.
Be silent- do not move your lips;
Your eyes do close, your hearing stay.
Drink not your fill, and at your meals
When still half hungry, turn away
And then a glimpse enjoy you may
Of image that your mind's depth holds.
Would of the august secret
I divulge one whit
Trees would burn up, unfit
For growth all earth would be.
Let your eyes an offering be
For Loved-one ere you break your fast;
Sumptuous dishes seventy
You'll get by seeing Loved-ones face.
If my eyes at rise for other
Sight than the Beloved care
From their sockets I will tear
My eyes as morsels for the crows.
Facial phenomena lists
Do not try to see with those,
Longing gaping with those eyes
Never Loved-ones features shows
Only when both eyes you close
The Beloved you will see.
Dwell in mine eyes Beloved fair
That I can close them now;
No one may ever see you there
And I nought else shall see.
Acquire eyes that able are
to visualize Beloved's face;
Not then at any other gaze
Loved-ones are very sensitive.
About dead Elephant amongst
the blind arose parley
They handled it all over,
but Blind eyes could nought convey
Decisive word can say
The 'seers' only can display
The genuine truth of things.
The sense of wonder doth not dwell
Within the vulgar mind
Secret of Love to trace and find
Is no task for the blind.
For whom so anxiously we pine,
We ourselves are those;
O doubt, be gone with all your woes
For Loved-ones we have found.
Eyes weep and yet rejoice each day
to look and to adore
The more they see loved-ones,
the more drunk they with love do get.
The more I prohibited eyes
to look, the more they longed;
They crossed the sleeping world,
to find loved-one at any price
They killed me ah! but in this wise
peace for themselves secured.
Relationship with the 'visible',
In no case do desire
Why not you for the real enquire
and set out, seeking that?
Hear, and take note,
that you yourself are 'barrier',
and what is Between the union and its bliss
Is nothing but yourself.
The love wants that love's secret
alone his own shall be;
But eyes that flow continuously
and sinking heart; betray.
Corrupt ones can corrupt,
whose love Is very weak, indeed
But whom love has consumed, succeed
they can't for he the vile one slew.
When praying, think not of yourself,
Or prayers are in vain;
All thinking of yourself restrain
Drop self, and then do pray.
You profess to be a 'faithful'
Holy maxims you recite...
But your heart deceit is hiding
Faithful outward, you delight
in idolat 'rise inside.
Seek not the form of one that your
'Beloved' you do call,
As conversation not at all
can happen face to face.
Converse you hold when cross you are
Can never loved-one reach
Some mischief monger longs to mar
your heart, and spoil your love.
For to be cross is not the way;
two stones, can they unite?
'tis love that doth the cosmos sway
through love alone it lives.
Each claims to be on right path here;
But I have lost myself
Desiring and acquiring are
So very, very near
I set my mind on distant sphere
where 'yes' and 'no' are not.
Demerits world decries, loved-one
at so-called merits cross would be
My deeds, I mentioned with my tongue
now all undone in dust I see.
Then I discounted all my deeds,
which once I thought were charity,
An embassage I sent of shame;
Regrets and deep humanity,
But oh my love made up with me
only when 'I' had disappeared.
Whose body is a rosary,
the mind a bead,
a harp the heart.
Love-strings are playing there the theme
of unity in every part;
The nerves do chant:
"There's none like thee;
the 'One' and only one thou art.-
E'en sleeping beauty they impart,
their very sleep their worship is!
These are not ways you knew before
thy fiddle hanging on the peg,
And lovely dawn, as if it were
your enemy, so to ignore;
'Musician' call yourself no more
if to adore you thus forget.
How fast you sleep!
in pillows put tour face
and weep with sorrow;
May be your violin lies tomorrow
forsaken on the ground.
The true musician has no peace;
nowhere for long he tarries
On shoulder-strap his violin carries
and asks the way to wastes.
Confounded do you roam,
O say where were you yesterday?
My minstrel, now no longer loll,
but leave your listless way
Go to the king's door, beg and pray
for things of genuine worth!
The king is giving secretly
gifts to ungifted ones;
If this those artists were to hear
they never would agree,
Their fiddles instantaneously
to smithereens would reduce!
So many minstrels,
of what use is all the craft they ply?
What servant deems so precious,
may be sin in master's eyes
Alchemy thou, and brazen I
thy look turns me to gold!
Bestowal is not due to caste,
whoever works, obtains,
At childish ways of innocence
forbearance king maintains;
Who one night at his court remains
shall e'er be free from pains!
It is the Givers great reproach,
against musicians vain;
"Why do you beg at other doors
and mine do not approach
Hence harm and hardship
do encroach upon their happiness.
The only Giver thou, and we
the humble beggars are;
Rains seasons have.
Thy bounty's rain doth pour eternally;
A visitation sweet, from thee
exalts, though soiled I be!
The morning star has risen.
Oh arise, adore thy master,
He swiftly turns away;
doth know minds of musicians all!
The glorious yogis in this world,
some 'Fire' bring, some 'Light'
Who kindle themselves to 'ignite',
“I cannot live without them”!
I on a festal bed did sleep,
then from a sigh woke I,
Those who aroused me with a sigh
"I cannot live without them"
The music of renouncing ones
great 'wealth' for me is this
They have no need of words;
nor speech their way and fashion is
Ah, those that have 'become',
I wish, "I cannot live without them".
O nothing with themselves they take,
with 'Self' they parted company
And those in whom such traits I see,
“I cannot live without them”!
With hunger yogis pack their bags
preparing for a revelry.
By tempting foods, they are not moved,
and out they pour so lustily
The 'thirst' to drink; their minds they flog
until like beaten flax they be.
So through long wastes they wade,
to see at last fertility and life!
Food has no charm for yogis,
since it left them with a bitter taste;
From human beings they beg not;
their call for help is in the waste;
They choose poverty, and embraced
sorrow with reverence sincere!
No bowls they carry, nor to ask
from houses they do care;
God-loving, oh so far away
from human-doors they fare
No law they need, within they bear
a court of justice pure!
They sleep at sunset,
and again at midnight rise,
Their faces only wash with dust.
When dawn approaches then one sees
them lie by road-side ill at ease;
that they are 'Yogis', ne'er they tell.
These God-lovers, they do unfold
humility within their eyes
They have no fathers, mothers, castes,
no pedigrees, no ties untold;
God is their One relationship
that they within their pure souls hold;
Of all the treasures manifold
a lion-cloth all their savings is.
And when their lion-cloth they have bound
ablutions more they do not need.
They too had heard the holy call,
Before Islam that did sound
All ties they severed, and they found
at last the guide they wished to meet.
The selfless ones you know by this,
that no desire they do bear;
Their sign the non-dependence is,
and freedom from relationship.
Whose heads bent on their knees must be,
their beings integrated are;
Their hearts like compass do return
to the Divine perpetually- divested are by 'Reality';
From sin's account-giving all free,
are those whose state 'Direction' is!
This night they will with you remain,
tomorrow they will wend their way;
A longing for the patient ones
in every of your veins retain;
For, only fate will bring again
this kind of yogis to your door.
They will abide with you today,
tomorrow they will disappear
On yogis feast, and so enrich
your soul, before they go away.
Oh seek their feet, or else you may
pine vainly after they are gone.
Before they leave your homely door,
with them a heart-to-heart talk have;
And sacrifice yourself on them
ten times during the day, or more
As soon they leave for Hingalore,
then only fate can bring them back!
God-seeker's voice today I miss,
the courtyard now is desolute;
The sight of empty places here,
Kills me, so tortuous it is
Who to the soul gave life and bliss,
the selfless ones, departed are!
Today the yogis disappeared,
remembering them, I wept whole night;
Those whom I searched and so revered,
are vanished never to return.
As men are hunting after food,
would they journey's direction ask;
E'en creeping , they in holy mood
the track would find, and all woe.
And as for bread some chase, were they
in self-same manner seek for God
They'd drag themselves to find the way,
and their sorrows then would end!
What feast is for the vulgar, know
sweet hunger that for yogis is;
They love to keep the fast and go
ne'er near where feasts they see.
The yogis that are favoring still
delicious morsels, garments fine;
To get near God they never will
but far away from Him they dwell.
as always wet they are.
They wake and weep and so they keep
sleep at a distance far!
Alas! correctly you don't hear
with ears appended to your head
The 'Message' you should hear instead
with ears that are within you placed.
In asinine ears do not trust,
dispose of them without delay;
Purchase such ears with which you may
hear clearly the Beloved tale.
Purpose that made them yogis,
so long that's not attained,
So long denouncers' life constrained
To tears and longing is.
They never laugh, nor do they feast
With no man do converse
In depths profound they do immerse
‘These' are the mystery!
Where there's no height, no heaven,
And of the earth no trace;
Where moon doth never rise,
nor sun Doth ever show his face;
There yogis see their limits,
And see their resting place
Their clues reach far, till now their gaze
Found in negation Reality!
Traversing far off realms,
O friends Khahoris have returned at last;
Their feet covered with dust.
what lands it came from-oh, how do I know.
On wild growths hill-ascetics feed,
they seek the land ne'er known or heard
Upon the dusty, stony grounds
they lay their flanks when rest they need;
To seek the light they do proceed and seek it from infinity.
The hill-ascetics I did see,
those who do not in houses dwell;
In biting wind, they weep like rain
with longing for Divinity
With sorrow they keep company,
and live on sorrow day and night.
Old ragged ropes for shoes they wear;
their faces are dried up, and wan
Oh, at that land they had a peep
that learned ones could see no-where
Secretive ones, have secrets rare
of regions that still further lie.
Their arms hold water-bags
all dry and on their feet ropes old and torn;
Eyes pouring rain...O passer-by
Ascetics such did e'er you meet!
The load of truth cannot be borne
upon the head, I fear,
And deaf you have to be,
the call of Reality to hear.-
Make yourself blind,
so that the dear Beloved you may see.
How beautiful is darkest night
in which you lose world's way
Your greed for this and that,
O quite forgotten it will be.
The common road do not go near;
but walk where 'they' walk not;
Cross over then by longing mere
and nothing take with thee.
Wanderers need no conveyance, no!
for horse do not care
Although their minds are set on
destination far and fair;
In wastes search food, torn rags they wear,
and that their sign-mark is.
I saw the wanderers that a peep
at the Beloved had;
One night I in their place did stay
their company to keep.
To know them, is in drowning deep
to have a safety raft.
Dust-covered they do walk their way,
and mix themselves with clay;
No secrets tell to stupid folk,
nor gossip or delay;
Some secret of the Loved-one
they bear in their heart all-time.
Knowledge hides snakes,
and many find folly as honey sweet,
Who passed them both.
left both behind he found the 'Reality'.
Those who had lost their way
were with a deep emotion stirred
Those seers in the waste stood blind
and nothing more they heard
Their ears were closed-like dumb
they walked as if their minds were blurred.
Their only sorrow separation was
which they incurred
All they gave up for 'Lahut', but
for this they hungered
Asleep, awake, longing was spurred
but never was allayed.
The spot where
One Beloved dwells
how happy 't is,
Turn off from places where you meet
all the inhuman crowds.
Those who the bare hills came to know
no more for harvests cared
To Ganjo-hills they longed to go
Lahutis to become.
Those who the bare hills came to know
forthwith all books did close.
Their sleep had gone, for Ganjo-hills
their longing hearts did glow.
They yearned Lahutis to become
when dust from hills did blow.
From smell of hills left worldly show
Lahutis to become.
See where the bird can never fly;
a tiny fire twinkles there
Who could have kindled it so high
except the wandering, homeless kind?
Restless Khahoris did destroy
their bodies in a holy mood
And so their spirit gained the food
they had wished to obtain.
Wanderers had girded up their loins.
on heights they one with dust became,
So they at last had reached, their aim
through sorrow mountains top had found.
Dear crow, after obeisance fall
at the Beloved's feet
Message I give thee, don't forget,
in transit, I entreat,
I beg in God's name secretly
my message do repeat;
My words correctly and repeat;
convey just as say.
Come flying my dear crow,
bring news back from the other side;
Sir down, a note of union strike,
and all in me confide...
My loved-ones that seem to abide
so far away, bring here.
From loved-ones, there in foreign lands
bring news, and not delay
Thy feathers I will cover with
a wealth of gold-array
Circle above his house, convey
my message to my love.
Oh! crow, I'll tear my heart from this
my breast with my own hands;
You peck at it before my love,
that dwells in foreign lands;
May be he says; "there are no friends
that dare such sacrifice."
The crow is back, and sitting now
On yonder twig, quite near;
He came last night, and greetings sweet
Brought from my precious dear
Stop spinning sisters! that
I hear All what Beloved said.
Warm preparations are again in progress everywhere;
Again the lightning's have begun to leap with arduous flare;
Some towards Istanbul do dive, some to the West repair;
Some over China glitter, some of Samarqand take care;
Some wander to Byzantium, Kabul, some to Kandahar fare;
Some lie on Delhi, Deccan, some reach Girnar, thundering there
And greens on Bikaner pour those that jump from Jaisalmer
Some Bhuj have soaked, others descent on Dhat with gentle air,
Those crossing Umerkot have made the fields fertile and fair;
O God, may ever you on Sindh bestow abundance rare;
Beloved! all the world let share thy grace, and fruitful be.
Lady, at moorings do remain;
and so prevent the mariners,
From plunging you in sudden pain
by setting sail all suddenly.
Lady, at moorings do reside,
and keep the fire in your heart;
Burn on, that mariners abide
with you, not leave you suddenly.
سر سسئي آبري
Now or after, my destiny, is my Beloved one;
The labour of poor one, O God let it in vain not be,
I beg for nothing, but to see my loved-one in this life.
Die and relieve, so that Beauty of loved-one leaves you never;
Acceptable you'll be forever, accepting this advice.
O look not back! nor hesitate,
for sun declines in West-
Thy pace do quicken,
do not rest ere sunrise try to reach.
سر ليلا چنيسر
سر مومل راڻو
سر بروو سنڌي
Even the wise confounded got
and heroes lost their wits
Those who went out to face the sea,
were caught by current's plot;
Of “Ebb and tide”, they all forgot
what they had learnt before.
Currents have their velocity,
rivers their speed possess-
But where there's love, a different rush
its currents do express,
And those that love fathomless ness,
are steeped in depth of thought.
The sun is setting, and the crows
in trees at rest now are;
The call for prayers Sohni hears
and she picks up the jar,
To float across the river far,
and see where Sahar is.
On what count am I here? O why bereft of loved ones face?
You preach: Deflect from sin, but I your virtue do deny.
Moral control I do not need nor do for music sigh.
Keep closed your lips, and from within yourself you'll beautify.
These that on 'Top' of waters flow are bubbles that belie.
Feed on selflessness, for your love Mincemeat to be, then try.
If headlong into dirt you rush yourself, you'll purify.
Naught does possess more wealth than dust nothing with dust can vie.
Who runs by stirrup of the guide the other side will spy.
Falcon, pick up your greedy self and fly with it on high.
Don't lose sigh of the friends, walking in veils that mystify.
More than Oneness in love, is like splitting two-lettered tie.
Those who do long for wine of love with purest them supply.
These ravings are the vain reply of tortured, sickly one.
On what count, am, I here oh! why? Bereft of loved ones face.