I Am And I Am Not

I’m drenchedin the floodwhich has yet to come I’m tied upin the prisonwhich has yet to existNot having playedthe game of chessI’m already the checkmateNot having tasteda single cup of your wineI’m already drunkNot having enteredthe battlefieldI’m already wounded and slainI no longerknow the differencebetween image and realityLike the shadowI amAndI am not

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Behind The Scenes

Is it your facethat adorns the garden?Is it your fragrancethat intoxicates this garden?Is it your spiritthat has made this brooka river of wine?Hundreds have looked for youand died searchingin this gardenwhere you hide behind the scenes.But this pain is not for thosewho come as lovers.You are easy to find here.You are in the breezeand in

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Ghazal 314

You who are not kept anxiously awake for love’s sake, sleep on.In restless search for that river, we hurry along;you whose heart such anxiety has not disturbed, sleep on.Love’s place is out beyond the many separate sects;since you love choosing and excluding, sleep on.Love’s dawn cup is our sunrise, his dusk our supper;you whose longing

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Lord, What A Beloved Is Mine!

Lord, what a Beloved is mine! I have a sweet quarry; I possessin my breast a hundred meadows from his reed.When in anger the messenger comes and repairs towards me,he says, “Whither are you fleeing? I have business with you.”Last night I asked the new moon concerning my Moon. Themoon said, “I am running in

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Weary Not Of Us, For We Are Very Beautiful

Weary not of us, for we are very beautiful; it is out of very jealousy and proper pride that we entered the veil.On the day when we cast of the body’s veil from the soul, you will see that we are the envy of despair of man and the Polestars.Wash your face and become clean

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When I Am Asleep And Crumbling In The Tomb

When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb, should you cometo visit me, I will come forth with speed.You are for me the blast of the trumpet and the resurrection,so what shall I do? Dead or living, wherever you are, there am I.Without your lip I am a frozen and silent reed; what melodiesI

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I Am Part Of The Load

I am part of the loadNot rightly balancedI drop off in the grass,like the old Cave-sleepers, to browsewherever I fall. For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust-grainsfloating and flying in the will of the air,often forgetting ever beingin that state, but in sleepI migrate back. I spring loosefrom the four-branched, time -and-space

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In Love

In love, aside from sipping the wine of timelessness,nothing else exists.There is no reason for living except for giving one’s life.I said, ‘First I know you, then I die.’He said, ‘For the one who knows Me, there is no dying.’

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I Was Dead

i was deadi came alivei was tearsi became laughter all because of lovewhen it arrivedmy temporal lifefrom then onchanged to eternal love said to meyou are notcrazy enoughyou don’tfit this house i went andbecame crazycrazy enoughto be in chains love saidyou are notintoxicated enoughyou don’tfit the group i went andgot drunkdrunk enoughto overflowwith light-headedness love

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The Ravings Which My Enemy Uttered I Heard Within My Heart

The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart;the secret thoughts he harbored against me I also perceived.His dog bit my foot, he showed me much injustice; I do notbite him like a dog, I have bitten my own lip.Since I have penetrated into the secrets of individuals like menof God, why should

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Poets
  • ADIL MANSURI116 Post(s)
  • AHMAD FARAZ337 Post(s)
  • Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi82 Post(s)
  • Allama Iqbal494 Post(s)
  • Mirza ghalib52 Post(s)
English Poets
  • Emily Angel31 Post(s)
  • Emily Dean13 Post(s)
  • Emily Huntington Miller7 Post(s)
  • Emily Knight13 Post(s)
  • Emily Liang26 Post(s)
  • Emily Wilson17 Post(s)
  • Robert Frost191 Post(s)
  • Rumi148 Post(s)
  • William Shakespeare376 Post(s)

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tazmin

ġham tumhārā thā zindagī goyā tum ko khoyā use nahīñ khoyā fart-e-girya se jī na halkā ho bas yahī soch kar nahīñ royā ashk to ashk haiñ sharāb se bhī maiñ ne ye dāġh-e-dil nahīñ dhoyā maiñ vo kisht-e-nashāt kyoñ kāTūñ jis ko maiñ ne kabhī nahīñ boyā aabla aabla thī jaañ phir bhī bār-e-hastī

safed chhaDiyan

janam kā andhā jo soch aur sach ke rāstoñ par kabhī kabhī koī ḳhvāb dekhe to ḳhvāb meñ bhī azaab dekhe ye shāhrāh-e-hayat jis par hazār-hā qāfile ravāñ haiñ sabhī kī āñkheñ har ek kā dil sabhī ke raste sabhī kī manzil isī hujūm-e-kashāñ-kashāñ meñ tamām chehroñ kī dāstāñ meñ na naam merā na zaat

diwar-e-girya

vo kaisā shobada-gar thā jo masnūī sitāroñ aur naqlī sūrajoñ kī ik jhalak dikhlā ke mere saada dil logoñ kī āñkhoñ ke diye hoñToñ ke jugnū le gayā aur ab ye aalam hai ki mere shahr kā har ik makāñ ik ġhaar kī mānind mahrūm-e-navā hai aur hañstā boltā har shaḳhs ik dīvār-e-girya hai

mujassama

ai siyah-fām hasīna tirā uryāñ paikar kitnī pathrā.ī huī āñkhoñ meñ ġhaltīda hai jaane kis daur-e-alama-nāk se le kar ab tak tū kaḌe vaqt ke zindānoñ meñ ḳhvābīda hai tere sab rañg hayūle ke ye be-jān nuqūsh jaise marbūt ḳhayālāt ke tāne-bāne ye tirī sāñvlī rañgat ye pareshān ḳhutūt bārhā jaise miTāyā ho inheñ duniyā