My story is not indebted to the patience of being heard, My silence is my talk, my speechlessness is my
speech, Why does this custom of
silencing exist in your assembly?, My
tongue is tantalized to talk in this assembly, Some leaves were picked up by the tulip, some by the narcissus, some
by the rose, My story is scattered
around everywhere in the garden , The
turtle‐doves, parrots, and nightingales pilfered away, The garden’s denizens jointly robbed away my
plaintive way, O Candle! Drip like
tears from the eye of the moth, Head to
foot pathos I am, full of longing is my story, O God! What is the pleasure of living so in this world?, Neither the eternal life, nor the sudden death is
mine, This is not only my wailing, but
is that of the entire garden, I am a
rose, to me every rose’ autumn is my autumn , “In this grief‐stricken
land, in life‐long spell of the caravan’s bell I am, From the palpitating heart’s bounties the silent
clamor I have“, In the world’s garden
unaware of pleasant company I am, Whom
happiness still mourns, that hapless person I am, Speech itself sheds tears at my ill luck, Silent word, longing for an eagerearIam, I am a mere handful of scattered dust but I do not
know, Whether Alexander or a mirror or
just dust and scum I am, Despite all
this my existence is the Divine Purpose, Embodiment
of light is whose reality, that darkness I am, I am a treasure, concealed in the wilderness dust, No one knows where I am, or whose wealth I am?,
My insight is not obligated to the stroll of
existence, That small world I am whose
sovereign myself I am, Neither wine,
nor cup‐bearer, nor ecstasy, nor goblet I am, But the truth of everything in the existence’ tavern
I am, My heart’s mirror shows me both
world’s secrets, I relate exactly what
I witness before my eyes, I am bestowed
with such speech among the elegant speakers, That the birds of the ‘Arsh’s roof are concordant with me, This also is an effect of my tumultuous love,
That my heart’s mirrors are Destiny’s
confidante, Your spectacle makes me
shed tears, O India!, Your tales are
admonitory among all the tales, conferring
the wailing on me is like conferring everything, since eternity Destiny’s pen has put me where all your mourners are,
O gardener do not leave even the rose‐petals’
trace in this garden!,
By your misfortune war preparations are afoot
among the gardeners, The sky has kept
thunderbolts concealed up its sleeve, Garden’s
nightingales should not slumber in their nests, Listen to my call, O imprudent one! This is something which, The birds in gardens are reciting like the daily
prayers, Think of the homeland, O
ignorant one! Hard times are coming, Conspiracies
for your destruction are afoot in the heavens, Pay attention to what is happening and what is going to happen,
What good there is in repeating the tales of
the old glories?, How long will you
remain silent? Create taste for complaint!, You should be on the earth, so your cries are in the heavens!, You will be annihilated if you do not understand O
people of India!, Even your tales will
disappear from the world’s chronicles, This
is the law of Nature, this is the order of Nature, Those who tread dynamism’s path, are the darlings of
Nature , I will surely exhibit all
my hidden wounds today, I will surely
change assembly to a garden with blood‐mixed
tears,
I have to light every heart’s candle with
hidden pathos, I will surely create
bright illumination in your darkness, So
that love‐cognizant hearts be created like rose‐buds, I will surely scatter around my handful of dust in
the garden, If stringing these
scattered pearls in a single rosary, Is
difficult, I will surely make this difficult task easy, O Companion! Leave me alone in the soul-searching
effort, As I will surely exhibit this
mark of the ardent Love, I will show
the world what my eyes have seen, I
will surely make you also bewildered like a mirror, The discerning eye sees everything covered in veils,
It does see the exigencies of the nature of
times, You have not acquainted your
heart with pleasure of dignity, You
have passed your entire life in humility like foot‐prints, You always remained entangled inside the assembly,
but, Have not acquainted yourself with
the world outside the assembly , You
have continued loving the charm of material beauties, But you have never seen your own elegance in this
mirror , Give up prejudice O
imprudent one! In the world’s glass house, They
are your own pictures which you have taken as evil ones, Become embodiment of the wail of tyranny of life’s
pathos!, You have concealed sound in
your pocket like the rue seed, Clarity
of heart has nothing to do with external decorations, O imprudent one! You have applied myrtle to mirror’s
palm, Not only the earth even the sky
is bewailing your imprudence; It is
outrageous that you have twisted the Qur’an’s lines!, To what purpose is your claim to monotheism!,
You have made the idol of self conceit your
deity, What did you see even if you saw
Yusuf in the well?, O imprudent one!
You have made the Absolute confined, You
are greedy of flowery style even at the pulpit, Your advice also is a form of storytelling, Show that universally illuminating Beauty to your
weeping eye, Which renders the moth
highly agitated, which makes the dew weep like eye, Mere seeing is not its purpose! O greedy one,
Some One has made the human eye with some
purpose, Even if he viewed the whole
world, what did he see?, Jam could not
see his own reality in the wine cup , Sectarianism
is the tree, prejudice is its fruit, This
fruit caused expulsion of Adam from Paradise, Not even a single rose‐petal
could rise by sun’s attraction, It is the longing
for elegance which raises the dew, Those
wounded by Love do not wander in search of cure, These wounded ones themselves create their own cure, The heart gets complete illumination by the spark of
Love, The Tur’s flower bed is raised
from the Love’s small seed, Every
malady’s cure is to remain wounded with Longing’s sword, Wound’s remedy is to remain free from obligation to
stitching, With the Bekhudi’s wine up
to the celestial world is my flight, From
disappearance of color I have learnt to remain fragrance, How can the weeping eye refrain from homeland’s
lamentation?, The ‘ibadah for the
poet’s eye is to remain constantly with ablution, To what purpose should we make our nest in the rose‐branch, Ah! How can we live with constant disgrace in the
garden, If you understand, independence
is veiled in Love, Slavery is to remain
imprisoned in the net of schism, Contentment
is what keeps the cup submerged in water, You
should also remain like the bubble in the stream, It is best for you not to remain indifferent to
yours own, O apathetic person! If you
want to remain alive in the world, Soul‐invigorating
wine is the Love of the human race It has
taught me to remain ecstatic without the wine cup and the pitcher, Sick nations have been cured only through Love,
Nations have warded off their adversity
through Love, The expanse of Love is at
once foreign land and homeland, This
wilderness is the cage, the nest, as well as the garden, Love is the only stage which is the stage as well as
the wilderness, It is the bell, the
caravan, the leader as well as the robber, Everybody
calls it an illness, but it is such an illness, In which the cure for all ills and misfortunes is concealed, The heart’s pathos in a way is to become embodiment
of Light, If this moth burns it is also
the assembly’s candle, The Beauty is
just one but appears in everything, It
is Shirin, the sky, as well as the mountain digger, Distinction of sects and governments has destroyed
nations, Is there any concern for the
homeland in my compatriot’s hearts?, Prolonging
the tale of my woes calls for silence, otherwise, The tongue in my mouth as well as the ability to
speak is, “Take not this meaningful
tale as related by me is, The story was
endless, but related with silence is.”
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