Posts Tagged ‘blossom’
Pretty Shrewd
Posted June 1, 2017
on:
Doesn’t reveal! What’s she and who she is?
Style the maiden walks around! who she is
She has a complexion of sprouting blossom
Having thick black hair like clouds in motion
She’s like a soul mate when meets up alone
But she turns her back when with her friend
- In: Poetry
- 9 Comments
My heart broke like a dazzling mirror
Breaks, as if fallen on a hard boulder
As tears falling from eyelashes away
As a piercing arrow breaks; in my heart
As an appealing delicate bough of desire
Breaks all of a sudden in full blossom
Like a sequence of a romantic dream
Tangles at the time of realizing the dream
Like the earth slither under feet away
As hazards befall from above the sky
The branch I had the reliance on its solidity
Nests built on it were all collapsed away
As an insensible comes back to senses
As a lost utopian comes back to senses
Now being shattered into pieces I think
Who sensed the suffering I went through?
My going through, of grief, is just worthless
Hum jo toote to is tarah toote
jaise hathon se girr k pathar par
koi shafaaf aaiina toote
jaise palkon se toot tha aansoo
jaise seene main ik kamaan toote
jaise umeed ki nazuk daali
barg mosam main na gahaan toote
jaise aankhon main khwab ki doori
waqt e takmeel se ulajh jaye
jaise pairon tale zameen nikle
jaise sar par yeh asmaan toote
jaise ik shaakh pe bharosa kia
is pe jitne thay aashiyaan toote
jaise wehshat se hosh aa jaye
jaise ta dair main dheyaan toote
ab jo raiza howay to sochte hain
kis nay dekha tha tootna apna
hum jo toote to raayegaan toote
- In: Poetry
- 6 Comments
I spray tears to make fertile my heart
The tears soothe wounds of my heart
Lost all senses in thy remembrance
Wander in wilds in thy remembrance
Deprived of the ecstasy of loneliness
People tag along wherever I go away
That piece of earth is not less sacred
Where I set foot engrossed in adoration
Lucky are the ones; blissfully blessed
I give color to life’s canvas with my blood
I’m heading toward the beautiful love land
Where cruel hearts soften with adoration
A divine dervish needs no worldly riches
The angels too envy his saintly elevation
Love often withers freshness from garden
Love also makes flora blossom in arid region
غزل۔۔۔
بہت زرخیز خاکِ دل ہے، آنسو روز بپتے ہیں
انہی اشکوں کے دھاگوں سے ہمارے زخم سلتے ہیں
تمھارے ہجر میں جاناں مری مجنوں سی حالت ہے
اُڑا کر خاک سر پہ دشت میں آوارہ پھرتے ہیں
سرورِ لذتِ تنہائی سے محروم ہوں اب تک
کہ بادہ کش سوئے میخانہ میرے ساتھ چلتےہیں
نہیں جنت سے کم ہرگز زمیں کا وہ حسیں خطہ
خمارِعشق میں ڈوبے جہاں پر پاؤں دھرتے ہیں
خوشا وہ لوگ جنکو حسنِ فطرت نے سنوارا ہے
اور اک ہم خونِ دل سے زندگی میں رنگ بھرتے ہیں
محبت کی حسیں وادی کی جانب ہے سفر میرا
جہاں جذبات کی حدت سے پتھر دل پگھلتے ہیں
فقیرِ عشق کی جھولی کو مال و زر سے مطلب کیا
کہ اسکے اوج سے اہلِ فلک کے پر بھی جلتے ہیں
محبت چھین لیتی ہے چمن سے تازگی اکثر
کبھی پھر دشت میں اسکے ہی دم سے پھول کھلتے ہیں
رضیہ سبحان
Each and Every Instant
Posted February 20, 2015
on:- In: Poetry
- 13 Comments
Every instant gives me pain
Life is an unfruitful arid region
Desires have never been fulfilled
The roads are flooded
Your persona is sweet-smelling
It’s similar to blossoming roses
The beauty in thy face is similar to
The divine beauty of a righteous book
Your voice and your way of talking
Are melodious like, a playing violin
Solitude is as serene as if reunion
Is going through testing and trying
Your body is like a charismatic fairyland
It’s similar to a child’s lovable dream
Earlier it was a simple query but now
It is a complicated explanation
Posted November 9, 2011
on:In want for who is whose, own people are alien
Shining faces elegant and dazzling, all are known
Loneliness mere loneliness, whom to explain
Eyes, lips and cheeks lay under soul arid reign
Ooh! Where to search beauty and truth
Where to stay and where to move;
Flowers blossom in garden court
Insane are in the deserted region
How can reliance suit us, we support own self
Desert, insane, perishing moths, in own self
At last getting tired folks, I have accepted
Loving one self is truth, rest is all fiction
Composed by Ibne Safi, his poetic name was Israr Narvii
Translated by Tanveer Rauf
Ibne safi’s poetic name Asrar Narvi
rāh-e-talab meñ kaun kisī kā apne bhī begāne haiñ
chāñd se mukhḌe rashk-e-ġhazālāñ sab jaane pahchāne haiñ
tanhā.ī sī tanhā.ī hai kaise kaheñ kaise samjhā.eñ
chashm o lab-o-ruḳhsār kī tah meñ rūhoñ ke vīrāne haiñ
uf ye talāsh-e-husn-o-haqīqat kis jā Thahreñ jaa.eñ kahāñ
sehn-e-chaman meñ phuul khile haiñ sahrā meñ dīvāne haiñ
ham ko sahāre kyā raas aa.eñ apnā sahārā haiñ ham aap
ḳhud hī sahrā ḳhud hī divāne sham-e-nafas parvāne haiñ
bil-āḳhir thak haar ke yaaro ham ne bhī taslīm kiyā
apnī zaat se ishq hai sachchā baaqī sab afsāne haiñ