Couplet
Oh Khusrau, the river of love runs in strange directions.
One who jumps into it drowns, and one who drowns, gets across.
1
The creaking of the chain of Majnun is the orchestra of the lovers,
To appreciate its music is quite beyond the ears of the wise.
2
If I cannot see her, at least I can think of her, and so be happy;
To light the beggar's hut no candle is better than moonlight.
3
My heart is a wanderer in love, may it ever remain so.
My life's been rendered miserable in love, may it grow more and more miserable.
4
People think they are alive because they have soul in them,
But I am alive because I have love in myself,
And I'm a martyr due to the beloved's affliction,
(for, to a lover, nothing is dearer than
the affliction brought forth by the beloved) .
5
My beloved speaks Turkish, and Turkish I do not know;
How I wish if her tongue would have been in my mouth.
6
Old age and lovemaking do not go together;
But O Khusrau, you still remain a proof against this reasoning.
7
If there is a paradise on earth,
It is this, it is this, it is this
8
You look sleepless, in whose embrace did you pass the night;
Your intoxicated eye has still the signs of tipsiness.
9
The dust of your doorstep is just the right thing to apply,
If Surmah (kohl powder) does not show its beauty in the eye!
10
How can her eyes reflect any sympathy, with my night-long wakefulness?
For she herself knows of nothing, in the night, except sleeping.
11
I have become you, and you me, I am the body, you soul;
So that no one can say hereafter, that you are someone, and me someone else.
poem by Amir Khusro
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Related quotes
Hey There Beloved
Hey there beloved why are you walking away from me?
Hey there beloved don't you know all those gifts are from me?
Hey there beloved I carried you through your storms
Hey there beloved come back to me
Hey there beloved don't you know I'm waiting with open arms
Hey there beloved I wish you were not blind but could turn back and see
Hey there beloved don't you notice my art?
Hey there beloved my love for you is in every night sky
Hey there beloved look for my love in the sunset
Hey there beloved, the sun is for you
Hey there beloved the coolness of clouds is for your enjoyment
Hey there beloved I love you
Hey there beloved You can walk away
Hey there beloved it makes me cry when you chase other lovers, but
Hey there beloved I'll let you go because I want you to choose me
Hey there beloved I want you to learn to love me
Hey there beloved don't go to them
Hey there beloved they cannot fill you up
Hey there beloved, I'll never give up on you
Hey there beloved I'm full of tears
Hey there beloved I made you for so much more
Hey there beloved you don't have to dress like that
Hey there beloved they don't really love you
Hey there beloved you're more than just a body
Hey there beloved you don't have to try to be something you're not
Hey there beloved I still love you
Hey there beloved you don't have to earn my love
Hey there beloved those things won't satisfy you
Hey there beloved heed my voice that path will destroy you
Hey there beloved you're broken, but
Hey there beloved my heart breaks for you
Hey there beloved can't you see the brokenness?
Hey there beloved why do you ignore me
Hey there beloved.... I love you with all that I am
Hey there beloved, that's everything there is
Hey there beloved I love you with my entire being
Hey there beloved that's grander than the universe itself
Hey there beloved you've strayed so far away
Hey there beloved I'll always call you back
Hey there beloved I'll always be waiting
Hey there beloved I still love y-
Hey there beloved h--
Hey there be-----
Hey--------
H--------
______ ______________
poem by David Knox
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In the spirit of Rumi - 10
I said to My Beloved
You have given me all Your love;
I have given You all my love;
what more can I give to You?
My Beloved said
If you love Me, then show your love
by seeing, knowing, all
that happens to you in your short life
as gifts from Me..
all events, all acts, all thoughts,
all seeming accidents, all illnesses,
all that arises from your meetings with others,
all their words to you –
see them all as Me
I said to My Beloved,
O My Beloved, my love is great
yet my will is weak;
I love You as I love life itself -
help me in this!
My Beloved said
It will not be easy; for
this will be the measure of your love for Me…
My help is this:
every time you see Me in some passing moment,
in some passing event in your life
be it harsh, or seem unfair— yes,
especially in this, my fiercely loving love -
you will know My love for you
as you have never known My love
for you so great, so pure
I said to My Beloved
This hard and lovely thing, O My Beloved,
will be the measure of my love for You.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Spirit of Rumi-40-The Nightingale and the Rose
As cold winter turns to warming Spring,
two lovers return from their winter rest.
The first rose shyly blooms; .
the nightingale pours out its song.
These are the two most generous lovers in the world;
do they not deserve each other?
In the daytime, while the nightingale takes its rest,
renews its generous throat,
the rose opens to embrace the world with beauty;
In the nighttime, while the rose folds and rests in sleep,
waiting to drink that purest dew of dawn,
the nightingale tells the world of beauty;
So each speaks in turn; both speak of beauty;
one in sound, the other in silence.
This way, telling of their love to the sleeping other;
Do they prefer it thus? Or is their listening
as sensitive as a mother’s nighttime intuition,
hearing more clearly, inwardly, in rest?
Which is the Lover, which is the Beloved?
Does the nightingale return in spring
at the first perfume of the rose,
drifting from the hedge and garden
like the messages of Layla and Majnun?
Or does the rose wait impatiently to bloom in Spring
until it hears – its petals trembling as they listen –
the nightingale’s song from that liquid throat?
Which is the Lover, which is the Beloved?
Does it matter to the world?
It matters only if that love is not equal; full;
generous beyond all worldly measure;
and then the Lover has become the Beloved,
the Beloved has become the Lover..
You and I, on our prayer-mat each day,
seeking God within ourselves,
which is the Lover, which the Beloved?
Have we yet become each other,
equal, full, and generous beyond all worldly measure;
night and day, as nightingale and rose?
As nightingales and roses sing forever
of each other's love
eternally, the round world turning, turning..
l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In the Spirit of Rumi
I said to My Beloved
I love You
May I know You?
My Beloved said
I am unknown
I said to My Beloved
Still, I love You
May I see You?
My Beloved said
I am formless
I said to My Beloved
Still, I love You
Might I lose You?
My Beloved said
I am eternal
I said to My Beloved
Still, I love You
Might You leave me?
My Beloved said
I am always present
I said to My Beloved
I love You
My Beloved said
I am love itself
I said, O My Beloved
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In the spirit of Rumi - 41 - Prayer
In the street outside the window
a beautiful young maiden passes;
only her eyes, looking straight ahead, demurely down,
are to be seen of her, above her veil, below her headscarf; and yet –
around her, as we draw our breath, transfixed –
around her, all the air is radiant with the light of love…
and in the following days, for hours each day,
we, love-smitten, wait in hope to catch her
as she passes; and the more we see her passing,
the more we seek to snare her attention;
hoping for the day when, as she passes,
her lovely eyes may glance so briefly, glance this way…
and on that day, the day of days
which we have waited for, for weeks and months -
then, it is no longer all we want:
how to ensnare her gaze? so that, one day,
our burning ears and lips may draw one single word from her…
*
Wise men say in the ancient tongue, the word,
to pray, meant, to incline, to listen – and, to snare…
and so for every one of us, our whole life is prayer:
from the first moment to the last,
from the first time when the baby’s eyes
meet those of loving parents, until
the last moment when our eyes turn upward…
we bow in adoration of the Beloved,
of whom we are not worthy; yet…
then listen for the first word breathed
by child; by parent; lover; ruler; God…
And, lover and beloved both alike,
set snares to catch our Beloved to ourselves…
that Beloved who is outside us, yet within…
that sleeping beauty who is our very self.
and, since prayer is love, our Beloved
sets snares for us also, to test our love;
this is the lovely game of love…
God plays it too with us:
to test our faith, to test our trust, to test our love…
Prayer, O Beloved, is pure love.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Ron
He has lost the inspiration of his life
And he must grow old without Annie his wife
They had been married for twenty two years
And memories of her still has him near to tears.
She was forty six when she passed on two years ago
And she did not live to see their grandchildren grow
Into young adults it was her wish to see
Her first great grandchild baptized but it wasn't meant to be.
Without his beloved Annie who had the 'heart of gold'
Ron in his early fifties must grow old
She was his soul mate and to him remained true
And together love and happiness they knew
Theirs was a true love that lasted till the end
She was his heroine and his dearest friend
And one as good as her he could not wish for to meet again
And the memories with him always will remain
Of the beautiful woman with brown eyes and nut brown hair
To laugh to her came easy she was always free of care
Their wedding photograph hangs on his bedroom wall
And she will remain as his greatest love of all.
Life will never again be the same for Ron
But without his beloved Annie he must carry on
She was the inspiration of his life
His lover and his soul mate and his wife
poem by Francis Duggan
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Because I Am
Because I am your star
life shines in the sky
night loves to sleep late
the day closes its eyes
If you want be my star
become alive on earth
become the night’s lover
be a man in the dawn
Because I am your dream
life pierces in your mind
the night gazes into your soul
the day takes its stroll
If you want be my dream
seed life in my arms
pour passion in the night
transform the days into flowers
Because I am your warmth
life swims in your blood
night overflows your heart
the day longs for the night
If you want be my warmth
allow blood to come alive
shed the night from the heart
the day caresses the night
You and I are in love
me and you in the night
If you are my dream
I become reality
You and I are in love
in the night, you and me
If I am a real women
you pass into eternity
poem by Silviu Craciunas
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Do Not Go So Far
My beloved,
my love,
do not go so far,
so far,
beyond the
reach of my dreams
wherein
holding your heart in mine
write our names
entwined
on each passing cloud
and
in a state of soul embrace
smile
at the vanity of time.
My beloved,
my love,
do not go so far
so far
beyond the
reach of my dreams
wherein
leaning on the edge of horizon
weave
the beautiful blanket of togetherness
and
borrowing colors from the rainbow
paint it the color of
love.
My beloved,
my love,
do not go so far
so far
beyond the
spam of my arms
wherein
love is not just an emotion
or desires untamed or wild.
where
togetherness is not mere possession of bodies
mortal with each passing tide.
and
your just being there
illuminates
my mind
my soul
my life
My beloved,
my love,
do not go so far.
poem by Anjali Kakati
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~~When I Love You~~
When i love you, my beloved~
...The earth will
...Stand still~
With no rotation upon it's Axis
...Until we have
...Our Fill~
Come gentle to me, my beloved~
...Embrace the
...Embers glow~
Hold me, as if, i am part of you
...As you and i
...Become one Soul~
Raise your sweet lips of surrender~
...Share that pearl
...Deep Inside~
Come to me, oh come to me, my beloved
...For tonight i am
...Your loving bride~
I am your ONLY lover, my sweet~
...And you are
...Only mine~
Remember that whenever i love you
...The World will
...Suspend in time~
poem by Theodora Onken
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Heart Can Sing The Song of Soul
' Well, Look into heart!
Well! beautiful melodies are sung in there
different musical instruments play there
within one's heart.
Several songs of strange lyrics
Some play in high and good and long sighs
good rain of musical notes that wet eyes,
some with tears of pain
some with tears of
overwhelming joy and Some take to ecstasy..
More and more we live, more and more wells that filled
Wells that can give ample of
Fresh juice of love
Mind gets quenched and happiness filled
And love is that note fills rainbow of life with many colours
Blood that come to that heart purified
Blood flows like honey in body and brain
Some of the perishables are
Dried and stuffed
That shines with eternal light
love that shines in one heart
can brighten the world
Some of the rivers dry up
Hearts of some get
dried or mud filled,
Others are far too fast in flow for that happen.
They flow that divine love
Rolling the rocks
In one rain of love, river gets flooded
Eroding the earth, sorrowing the rocks
They flow to ocean taking all that sand and silt!
You have to just take a few precious cups of water,
That 'love' is literally something of yourself, something that can make you immortal
And some know this well
They understand this well.
They find only mines of gold and diamond,
When some drops of love
Spill,
And it can solidify into precious stones of different colors a, shape and size..
It can grow as shining tough as a diamond
And cut through that secret of life and death,
cutting that hard rock cover that tunnel
Your taken to the eternal beloved,
Love is that spacecraft takes one to heaven
If it is lost, they way to the pathless land
Your love is that faith that takes that truth
Where falcon of death hunts the faithless stand!
Should never heart be offered to the mouth of a canine or cannibal,
Only can be useful and fruitful
when overflowing love flows like Nile
Life saving and life giving river feeding all
Like Ganges, washing allies of all!
Strange love,
Only to someone
Who has the valor
and courage
To cut pieces of their soul off
with a knife of knowledge
Then weave them into a shawl with loom of love
To protect you for cold and rain, thunders and lightning in life.
Because know for sure the
droplets love spilt
Solidify as gems.
And the single dropp that remain
in pot'of love sufficient to fill all unfilled wells
There are different music play within us.
Some fill heart with each good note,
Others are far, far too melodious
That can only fill heart and soul
For that can bring rain,
To flood river of life,
but a single dropp of that love
can fill all hearts.'
Beautiful are people who sing that song of the SOUL!
Their heart can take them to their beloved,
They fill the heart of them and others to show the eternal beloved!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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In the Spirit of Rumi - 15
To My Beloved I said
O My Beloved,
tell me of Yourself;
I yearn to know
My Beloved said
O my dearest one,
tell me, rather, of yourself;
for only in knowing yourself
and knowing what you do not know
may you know Myself
to My Beloved I said
I breathe; and yet
I was never taught to breathe.
I breathe perfectly;
who taught me then, to breathe?
In the light of the Sun,
I see all that may be seen;
who taught my eyes to see?
who taught the Sun to shine?
With my breath,
with my eyes,
I see love, breathe love in my heart;
who put it there?
Every day, I eat,
every day I need to eat;
every day there is some food;
who makes earth into bread?
Every day I make mistakes,
yet every day I live again;
my children I forgive their mistakes;
who will teach me my mistakes,
who will forgive me my mistakes?
Every day I find my world the greater,
every day my powers are greater;
every day the world’s glory is greater;
who made these boundaries to be boundless?
Every day, I think of death;
every day, I am alive;
every day, I seek the truth;
who joins these three, and who divides?
my Beloved said to me
In your questions, love.
In the answer, love.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Slow the love (Continues) Final Episode Undone
The beloved asked who told you this
Art thou God to decide the fate
Calling the episodes as the final
Did not the love tell you of the thought
So sacred but the blasphemy of love
As the story goes when the legendry lover
Adam Khan* dies with story teller in tears
From the audience a man with a sword
Bring him back or you pay with your life
The horse with the wings that thou flyeth
In the visions ah the beloved appeared
In dreams in the nature in the loneliness
Of nights and the afternoons thou spent
The episode who knows what final or primal
From the beloved thou wanted separation
In the religion of love none worshiped
None worshipper as no rituals in play
No ablution no baths in the rivers
Nothing is sacred and nothing is dear
Yet thou think to close the episode
Let the beloved be the guide don’t meddle
Decide not the fate that thou knowest not
Nothing in here and let the mystery
Of love unfold for the eyes and the ears
On the soil and down the horse on doorstep
To the city of love with the pride
Leave the judgment to the universal soul
He shall not judge the lovers as judgment for what
Just a breath away is the annihilation in waiting
Hold on the hands of beloved for a dance tonight
*Adam Khan-Durkhanai, epic story of love.
7/2/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Crazy Jane On God
That lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Banners choke the sky;
Men-at-arms tread;
Armoured horses neigh
In the narrow pass:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
I had wild jack for a lover;
Though like a road
That men pass over
My body makes no moan
But sings on:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Before their eyes a house
That from childhood stood
Uninhabited, ruinous,
Suddenly lit up
From door to top:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Oh, that lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play On The Music
Play on the music
Drop by drop
The strings divine
The nature at its eloquence
From heavens to earth
Stretch the string
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Beethoven’s symphony
Chopin’s piano
Santana’s guitar
Or the cuckoos song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the heat of the night
In cold surroundings
The story of my love
My illusions great
I construct heavens
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For the moments rare
It’s only for those
The discerning here
The enchanted being
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Don’t leave me alone
O soul you fly
The body shivers
With the thought
Of death and destruction
O soul we were friends
Thou fly to eternity
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Your place is heaven
I want to be heard
A slave to a master
So ungrateful
Your beauty in this world
I hath been
You decorated me
With ornaments rare
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For this is your fate
O carrier of soul
The life’s going by
Take your share
O body of the soul
Freedom anew
In the world here
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For I am the real
The being and the nothing
The beloved and the rival
The saki and the wine
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the deep longing
Of the night long
The strings so stretched
From the heavens to earth
Sing songs of love, O beloved mine
Reveal thy face, in my imaginations wild
Torn is my being, between real and unreal
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the middle of the night
The rain drops falling
From the clouds high
Is telling me this story
Khayyam’s disciple
Sings a song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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True Love Vavroovahana Patra
True love wins at end with Divine Power;
Oath of lover and beloved translated into reality with God’s Desire.
Selfless love exists for a long period;
Lovers and beloved’s love peacefully being glad.
God is the witness of love affection;
With love’s flowers beautiful is creation.
Love’s blossoms bloom in a good society;
People of the society like with gaiety.
True love is beyond wealth;
Lovers like with mirth.
It is perennial, eternally dazzles as a star;
With profound love lovers content their desires.
Soul mingles with soul, derives peace;
Souls live with Divine Bliss.
Divine power helps each other;
With optimistic inspiration contents the desire.
True love dazzles in the pages of history;
Lovers derive peace, life is flowery.
Love does not care religion;
Beautiful is God’s creation.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Dwell In Me
You dwell in me my beloved
Ah and beyond
Inside me there's a heart, exists there just for keeping you inside
You're the reason that's why beauties exist and I believe in
Every time you'r there, In my soul
Butterflies fly to blue skies sway
Taking with them the soul within
Inside me lies love and colorful butterflies
Angels have caves covered with veils
No one can take away the love, love stray
While lovers return home angels cry home alone.
Return home beloved bring the love back home
Return home one time may angels stop their cry's
May peace once again comes home
Im here alone, afraid is my soul
Storms out there people's cry my heart can't more bear
Children's bare hands
Return back my beloved bring the love which is lost
Tell him here is his real home.
Ah beloved!
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The Way Of It
This is the way of it, wide world over,
One is beloved, and one is the lover,
One gives and the other receives.
One lavishes all in a wild emotion,
One offers a smile for a life’s devotion,
One hopes and the other believes,
One lies awake in the night to weep,
And the other drifts off in a sweet sound sleep.
One soul is aflame with a godlike passion,
One plays with love in an idler’s fashion,
One speaks and the other hears.
One sobs, ‘I love you, ’ and wet eyes to show it,
And one laughs lightly, and says, ‘I know it, ’
With smiles for the other’s tears.
One lives for the other and nothing beside,
And the other remembers the world is wide.
This is the way of it, sad earth over,
The heart that breaks is the heart of the lover,
And the other learns to forget.
‘For what is the use in endless sorrow?
Though the sun goes down, it will rise tomorrow;
And life is not over yet.’
Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other,
That passionate Love is Pain’s own mother.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Fortune Teller
She sat with fear in her eyes
Contemplating the upturned cup
She said 'Do not be sad, my son
You are destined to fall in love'
My son, Who sacrifices himself for his beloved,
Is a martyr
*
For long have I studied fortune-telling
But never have I read a cup similar to yours
For long have I studied fortune-telling
But never have I seen sorrows similar to yours
You are predestined to sail forever
Sail-less, on the sea of love
Your life is forever destined
To be a book of tears
And be imprisoned
Between water and fire
*
But despite all its pains,
Despite the sadness
That is with us day and night
Despite the wind
The rainy weather
And the cyclone
It is love, my son
That will be forever the best of fates
*
There is a woman in your life, my son
Her eyes are so beautiful
Glory to God
Her mouth and her laughter
Are full of roses and melodies
And her gypsy and crazy love of life
Travels the world
The woman you love
May be your whole world
But your sky will be rain-filled
Your road blocked, blocked, my son
Your beloved, my son, is sleeping
In a guarded palace
He who approaches her garden wall
Who enters her room
And who proposes to her
Or tries to unite her plaits
Will cause her to be lost, my son…lost
*
You will seek her everywhere, my son
You will ask the waves of the sea about her
You will ask the shores of the seas
You will travel the oceans
And your tears will flow like a river
And at the close of your life
You will find that since your beloved
Has no land, no home, no address
You have been pursuing only a trace of smoke
How difficult it is, my son
To love a woman
Who has neither land, nor home
poem by Nizar Qabbani
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Forsaking My Love
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
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poem by Michael Silver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Will Not Cry
I will not cry for satisfaction if I could get my choice,
Among the divine beautiful virgins of heaven, I want only you.
After killing me, do not bury me in your street,
Why should people know your home address with my reference.
Be chivalrous for you are the wine bearer (beloved) , or else I
use to drink as much wine as I get every night.
I have no business with you but O! dear friend,
Convey my regards to the postman if you see him,(to remind him that he has to deliver my message to my beloved) .
I will show you what Majnoo (Hero of the famous Arabic love tale, Layla Majnoo) did,
If I could spare some time of my inner grief.
I am not bound to follow the directions given by Khizar (A prophet who is believed to be still alive and guide the people, who have lost their way, to the right path) ,
I accept that he remained my companion during my journey.
O! The inhabitants of the street of my beloved see
if you could find the insane poet Ghalib there some where.
poem by Mirza Ghalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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