the diwan of zeb-un-nissa
TRANSCRIPT
EDITORIAL NOTE
THE object o f the Editors of this series is a verydefinite one . They desire above all things that
,
in their humble way, these books shall be theambassadors of good-will and understandingbetween East andWest—the old world of Thoughtand the new of Action . In this endeavour
,and
in their own sphere,they are but followers of
the highest example in the land . They areconfident that a deeper knowledge of the greatideals and lofty philosophy of Oriental thoughtmay help to a revival of that true spirit of Charitywhich neither despises nor fears the nations ofanother creed and colour .
L . CRANMER-BYNG.
S . A . KAPADIA .
Nonm no ox SOCIETY,
2 1 , CBOMWELL Row ,
8 . KENSIN GTON , S .W.
WISDOM QF THE EAST
T H E D IWA N O F
Z EB-U N -N IS SA
THE FIRST FIFTY GHAZALS
RENDERED FROM THE PERSIAN BY
MAGAN LALAND
JESS IE DUNCAN WESTBROOK
WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W .
1 9 1 3
CONTENTS
DED ICATION
INTRODUCTION
D IWAN- I-MAKHFI—THE GHAZALS
NOTES
Thy pleasaunce, Princess , now is desolateWhere once the gleam ing water-courses tracedTheir paths among the cypresses , a wasteStretches beyond thy ruined garden-gate ;The rose is dead , the bul bul flown away,And Zeb -nu -Nissa but a memory.
But where th e rapt faqui rs God’s praises tell ,
Where at the shrine the pious pilgrim s meet ,Thy verses
,Makhfi, holy tongues repeat ,
Thy name is honoured and remembered wellFor through thy words they win a fleeting gleamOf the Divine Beloved of their dream.
So might we,even in an alien tongue
,
Bring from thy mystic garden,where, apart,
Thou dwelt communing with thy burning heart,These echoes of the songs that thou hast sung,And catch thy vision of the Soul ’s Desire,The im rh ortal Phoenix with its wings of fire
INTRODUCTION
THE Princess Zeb-nu-Nissa was the eldestdaughter of the Mogul Emperor Aurungzebs ofIndi a, and was born in 1 63 9. She came of
,
adistinguished line
,in di rect descent from Genghiz
Khan and Tamerlane . Her Emperor- ancestorswere famous not only for. their valour and statesmanship
,but as patrons and inspirers of art and
learning , and,moreover, they themselves possesseddistinguished literary gifts . Baber’s reminiscencesare written in so fresh and delightful a style thattheir charm holds us to-day
,and he wrote poe try
both in Turki and Persian,even inventing a
new style of verse . One of his sons,Mirza
Kamran, was also a writer of Persian verse .
Al though Akbar has given the world no writingsof his own—tradition even says that he neverfound time to learn to write—yet he surroundedhimself with a most cul tured circle ; and AbulFazl
,his talented minister
,constantly records
in his letters Akbar’s wise sayings and noblesentiments . Jehangir, like Baber, wrote hisown memoirs
,and they are ranked high in Persian
INTRODUCTION
literature . Shah Jehan wrote some account ofhis court and of his travels, and a record calledthe Dastur-ul -Amal, or Laws of Shah Jehan .
Aurungzeb e wrote books on Musulman law, andthe coll ection of his letters, called the RuqatAlam giri, is famous . Nor was this literary talentconfined to the men’s side of the house . Baber’sdaughter
, Gulbadan, wrote some history ofher own times , and has left us an interestingpicture of Baber himself ; and Zeb-un-Nissa’sverses still testify to her skill as a poe t .It is di fficult to learn precisely the details ofher lif e they were not written in any connectedbiography
,for in her later days she incurred the
wrath of her stern father,and no court chronicler
dared to speak of her . Her mother was DilrusBanu Begum
,daughter of Shah Nawaz Khan .
From her childhood she showed great intelligence,
and she was instructed from an early age . Atseven years old she was a Hafiz—she knew theKoran by heart ; and her father gave a greatfeast to celebrate the occasion . We read thatthe whole army was feasted in the great Maidanat Delhi, thirty thousand gold mohurs weregiven to the poor
,and the public offices were
closed for two days . She was given as teachera lady named Miyahai, and learned Arabic infour years ; she then studi ed mathematics andastronomy
,in which sciences she gained rapid
proficiency. She began to write a commentary
INTRODUCTION
on the Koran,but this was stopped by her
father . From her early youth she wrote verses ,at first in Arabic ; but when an Arabian scholarsaw her work he said : Whoever has wri ttenthis poem is Indian . The verses are clever andwise
,but the idi om is Indian
,although it is
a miracle for a foreigner to know Arabian sowell . ' This piqued her desire for perfection
,
and thereafter she wrote in Persi an ,her mother
tongue . She had as tutor a scholar calledShah Rustum Ghazi
,who encouraged and directed
her literary tastes . She wrote at first in secret,
but he found copies of her verses among herexercise-books . He prophesied her future greatness
,and persuaded her father to send all over
Indi a and Persia and Kashmir to find poetsand to invite them to come to Delhi to form afitting circle for the princess . This was themore wonderful as Aurungzebs himself caredlittle for poe try and used to speak against thepoe t’s calling . He had forbidden the works ofHafiz to be read in school by boys, or in thepalace by the Begums
,but he made an exception
in favour of Zeb-un-Nissa .
Among the poets of her circle were Nasir Ali,Sayab, Shamsh Wali Ullah
,Brahmin , and
Behraaz . Nasir Ali came from Sirhind,and was
famous for his pride and his poverty,for he
despised the protection of the great . Zeb-unNissa admired his verses
,and in away he came
INTRODUCTION
to be regarded almost as her rival poet . Her
coterie used to engage in a poetical tournamenta kind of war of wits . One would propose aline—sometimes it would be a question anotherwould answer it or contradict it or quali fy itor expand it
,by a line or lines in the same metre ,
rhyming with the original line . This is calledm ushaim—a poetical concourse ; and in thisquick repartee Zeb-un-Nissa excelled .
She had been betrothed by the wish of ShahJchan, her grandfather, to Sul eiman Shikoh ,who was her cousin and son of Dara Shikoh ;but Aurungzebs , who hated and feared Dara,was unwilling that the marriage should takeplace
,and caused the young prince to be poisoned .
She had many other suitors for her hand,but
she demanded that she should se e the princesand test their attainments before a match wasarranged . One of those who wished to marryher was Mirza Farukh
,son of Shah Abbas II
of Iran ; she wrote to him to come to Delhi sothat she might see what he was like . Therecord remains of how he came with a splendidretinue, and was feasted by Zeb—uh—Nissa in apleasure-house in her garden
,while she waited
on him with her veil upon her face . He askedfor a certain sweetmeat in words which
, by' a
play of language,also meant a kiss
,and Zeb-nu
Nissa,affronted
,said : '
Ask for what youwant from our kitchen . She told her father
INTRODUCTION
that , in spite of the prince’s beauty and rank
,
his bearing did not please her, and she refusedthe marriage . Mirza Farukh , however, sent herthis verse : I am determined never to leavethis temple ; hare will I bow my head, herewill I prostrate myself
,here will I serve
,and
here alone is happiness . ' Zeb-un—Nissa an
swered : How l ight dost thou esteem thisgame of love, 0 child . Nothing dost thouknow of the fever of longing , and the fire ofs eparation, and the burning flame of love .
'
And so he returned to Persia without her .She enjoyed a great deal of liberty in thepalace : she wrote to many learned men of hertime, and held discussions with them . Shewas a great favourite with her uncle Dara Shikoh ,
who was a scholar and wide-minded and en
lightened . To him she modestly attributed herverses when first she began to write
,and many
of the ghazals in the Diwan of Dara Shikoh areby her . She came out in the court, and helpedin her father’s councils
,but always with the
veil upon he r face . Perhaps she liked themetaphor of the face hidden till the day whenthe Divine Be loved should come ; perhapslif e behind carven lattices had a charm for her ;for her pen-name is Makhfi
,the hidden one .
Once Nasir Ali said this verse : O envy ofthe moon
,lif t up thy veil and let me enjoy the
wonder of thy beauty .
' She answered
I Will not lif t my veil ,For
,if I di d ,
who knowsThe bulbul might forget the rose ,
The Brahm an worshipperAdoring Lakshm i’s graceMigh t turn , forsaking her,
To see my faceMy b eauty m ight prevail .Think how with in the flowerH idden as in a bowerH er fragrant soul must be ,
And none can look on itSo me the world can see
Only within the verses I have writI will not l ift the veil .
She was deeply religious, but she was a Sufi ,
and did not share her father’s cold and narroworthodoxy. One day she was walking in thegarden, and, moved by the beauty of the worldaround her
,exclaimed
,Four things are necessary
to make me happy- wine and flowers and arunning stream and the face of the Beloved .
'
Again and again she recited the couplet ; suddenlyshe came upon Aurungzebs , on a marble platformunder a tree close by
,wrapt in meditation . She
was seized with fear,thinking he might have
heard her profane words but, as if she had notnoticed him
,she went on chanting as before
,
but with the second line changed,Four things
are necessary for happiness— prayers and fastingand tears and repentanceShe belonged
,like her father , to the Sunni
sect of Musulmans, and was well versed in con
INTRODUCTION
troversial religious points . One of Aurungzebe’s
sons ,MuhammadMa’uzam ,
was a Shiah,and when
s ectarian disputes took place in the court the princess was often asked to settle them . Her decisionin one dispute is famous
,for it was copied and
sent to Iran and Turan, and many scores ofBegums are said to have been converted to theSunni cause on that occasion . At first she tookgreat pleasure in the Tazia celebration sgave them up at her father’s wish when he cameto the throne
,and adopted a simpler form of
faith .
Much of her personal allowance of four lakhsa year she used in encouraging men of letters ,in providing for widows and orphans , and insending every year pilgrims to Mecca andMedina . She collected a fine library and employed skilled caligraphers to Oopy rare and
valuable books for her ; and, as Kashmir paperand Kashmir scribes were famous for theirexcellence
,she had a scriptorium also in that
province,where work went on constantly. Her
personal interest in the work was great, andevery morning she went over the copies thathad been made on the previous day. She hadcontemporary fame as a poet, and literary menused to send their works for her approval orcriticism
,and she rewarded them according to
their merits .In personal appearance she is described as
INTROJ.)U(3
1 1 ON
being tall and slim,her face round and fair in
colour,with two moles
,or beauty- spots, on her
left cheek . Her eyes and abundant hair werevery black
,and she had thin lips and small
teeth . In Lahore Museum is a contemporaryportrait
,which corresponds to this description .
She did not use missia for blackening betweenthe teeth
,nor antimony for darkening her eye
lashes,though this was the fashion of her time .
Her voice was so beautiful that when she readthe ~Koran she moved her hearers to tears . Indress she was simple and austere ; in later lifeshe always wore white
,and her only ornament
was a string of pearls round her neck . She isheld
'
to have invented a woman’s garment,the
angya kurti, a modification, to suit Indi ancondi tions, of the dress of the women of Turkestan ; it is now worn all over India . Shewas humble in her bearing
,courteous
,patient
,
and philosophic in enduring trouble ; no one ,it is said, ever saw her with a rufiled forehead .
Her chief friend was a girl named Imami‘
,a
poet like herself . Zeb-un-Nissa was skilled inthe use of arms
,and several times took part
in war .In the beginning of 1 662 Aurungzebe wastaken ill
,and
,his physicians prescribing change
of air, he took his family and court with himto Lahore. At that time Akil Khan, the son ofhis vizier, was governor of that city . He was
INTRODUCTION
famous for his beauty and bravery, and wasalso a poet. He had heard of Zeb-un-Nissa
,
and knew her verses,and was anxious to see
her . On pretence of guarding the city, he usedto ride round the walls of the palace, hOpingto catch a glimpse of her . One day he wasfortunate ; he caught sight of her on the housetop at dawn
,dressed in a robe of gulnar
,the
colour of the flower of the pomegranate . Hesaid
,
' A vision in red appears on the roof ofthe palace .
' She heard and answered, com
pleting the couplet : Supplications nor forcenor gold can win her . She liked Lahore as aresidence
,and was laying out a garden there :
one day Akil Khan heard that she had gonewith her compani ons to see a marble pavilionwhich was being built in it . He disguisedhimself as a mason, and, carrying a hod, managedto pass the guards and enter . She was playingchausar with some of her girl friends, and b e ,passing near, said : In my longing for theeI have become as the dust wandering round theearth .
' She understood and answered immediate ly
-z Even if thou hadst become as thewind, thou shouldst not touch a tress of myhair.' They met again and again
,but some
rumour reached the ears of Aurungzebe , whowas at Delhi, and he hastened back. He wishedto hush up the matter by hurrying her intomarriage at once. Zeb-un-Nissa demanded free
INTRODUCTION
dom of choice, and asked that portraits of hersuitors shoul d be sent to her and chose naturallythat of Akil Khan . Aurungzeb e sent for him ;
but a di sappointed rival wrote to him ' It isno child’s play to be the lover of a daughterof a king . Aurungzebe knows your doings ;as soon as you come to Delhi, you will reap thefruit of your love .
' Akil Khan thought theEmperor planned revenge . So
,alas for poor
Zeb-un-Nissa 'at the critical moment her loverproved a coward ; he declined the marriage,and wrote to the king resigning his service . Zebun—Nissa was scornful and disappointed , andwrote : I hear that Akil Khan has left offpaying homage to me '—o r the words mightalso mean, has resigned service on accountof some foolishness .' He answered
,also in
verse,Why shoul d a wise man do that which
he knows he will regret 2 (Akil also means ,a wise man). But he came secretly to Delhito see her again, perhaps regretting his fears .Again they met in her garden ; the Emperorwas told and came unexpectedl y
,and Zeb-un
Nissa,taken unawares
,could think of no hiding
place for her lover but a deg,or large cooking
vessel . The Emperor asked What is in thedeg and was answered
,Only water to be
heated .
' Put it on the fire,then
,he ordered
and it was done . Zeb-un-Nissa at that momentthought more of her reputation than of her
Long is thine exile, Makhfl,long thy yearning,
Long shalt thou wait , thy heart Within thee burning,Looking thus forward to thy home-returning.
But now what home hast thou, unf ortunateThe years have passed and left it des olate ,The dust of ages blows across its gate .
If on the Day of ReckoningGod say, In due proportion I will payAnd recompense thee for thy suffering,'Lo
,all the j oys of heaven it would outweigh ;
Were all God ’s blessings poured upon me, yetH e would be in my debt .
When her memory was becoming dim in thehearts of her friends
,Nasir Ali alone thought of
her, and e te a poem to her,saying that
,
now, the world coul d not delight in her presence,and he himself had to go about the earth um
happy,having no one but himself to appreciate
his verses . But she sent no answering word.
When she was released she lived solitary inDelhi
,and the verses she wrote there are very
melancholy,telling of the faithlessness of the
timesWhy shouldst thou
,O Makhfi,
complain offriends , or even - o f enemies 2 Fate has frownedupon thee from the beginning of time .
Let no one know the secrets of thy love . Onthe way of love
, 0 Makhfi,walk alone . Even
if Jesus seek to be thy companion,tell him thou
desirest not his comradeship .
Here is one of her saddest poems,expressing
something of the tragedy of her life
INTRODUCTION
0 idl e arms ,Never the lost Beloved have ye caressedBetter that ye were broken than like thisEmpty and cold eternally to res t .
0 useless eyes ,Never the lost Beloved for all these yearsH ave ye beheld : better that ye were blindThan dimmed thus by my unavailing tears .
O foolish springs,
That bring not the Beloved to my abode ;Yea,
al l the friends of youth have gone from me,
Each has set out on h is appointed road.
0 fading rose,
Dying unseen as hidden thou wert bo rn ;So my heart ’s blossom fallen in the dustWas ne’er ordained H is turban to adorn .
She di ed in 1 689 afte r seven days’ il lness ,and was buried in her garden at Nawakot,near Lahore
,according to the instructions she
left . The tomb is desolate now,although once
it was made of fine marbles,and had over its
dome a pinnacle of gold ; it was ruined in thetroublous times of the dissolution of the MogulEmpire . The great gate still stands, largeenough for an elephant with a howdah to enter ,and within the enclosure is a tower with fourminarets
,roofed with turquoise and straw
yellow tiles . But the garden that was in itstime very splendid
, being held second only tothat of the Shalimar of Shah Jehan
,has dis
NTR0 1)UCTION
appeared ; and the walls rise up now from thewaving fields of grain .
The garden which she laid out in Lahore itselfand which was called the Chauburgi , or fourtowered
,can still be traced by portions of the
walls and gates remaining . Three of the turretsover the archway still stand
,ornamented with
tiles in patterns of cypress- trees and growingflowers
,and the gateways have inscriptions in
Arabic and Persian . One of these tells that shepresented the garden to her old instructressMiyabai .In 1 724, thirty-five years after her death ,
what coul d be found of her scattered writingswere collected under the name of the Diwan- i
Makhfi, literally, the Book of the Hidden One .
It contain ed four hundred and twenty-one ghazalsand several rub‘
ais . In 1 730 o ther ghazals wereadded . Many manuscript Oopies were made inboth India and Persia ; some beautift illum inated examples are known and preserved .
The Diwan- i -Makhfl shares the characteristicsof other Sufic poetry—the worship of God underthe form of the Beautiful Beloved
,who is adorable
but tyranni cal,who reduces the lover to abject
despair,but at last bestows on him a gleam of
hOpe when he is at the point of death . TheBeloved is the Hunte r of the Soul
,chasing
it like a deer through the jungle of theworld
I have no peace, the quarry I, a Hunter chases m e ,
It is Thy memory ;I turn to fle e , but fall ; for over me he casts his snare,
Thy perfumed hair.Who can escape Thy prison Tno mortal heart is free
From dream s of Thee .
The lover is the madman,who for his love
is scorned and mocked by the unsympatheticworld . The personified Power ofEvil , the Enemy,lurks at the devotee ’s elbow
,ready to di stract
him from the contemplation of God .
The poet was evidently acquainted,not only
with the theories of Sufism,but with the prao
tices of the faquirs as well . We read of theassembly of the devout
,as in the Dargah at
Ajmer to—day : how they greet the morningwith floods of tears and deep sighs
,how they
beat their hearts of stone till the sparks of divinelove fly out from them . The h
’
atchet to strikethe flinty heart is the symbol of the Sufic poet :one sees it in the portraits of Hafiz and others .
There is also the scoffing at the orthodox whome et within the mosque, and the glorificationof the more advanced soul to whom all the universe is the temple o f God, nay even God himselfWhere I make my prayer—at that place is
the Kiblah .
But the poems of Zeb-un—Nissa,in addition
to what they share with other Sufic poetry,have a special Indi an flavour o f
‘
the ir own . Sheinherited the Akbar traditionl o f the unification
of religions, and knew not only Islam,but Hin
duism and Zoroastriani sm also . Her specialtriumph consists in that she weaves togetherthe religious tradi tions and harmonizes themwith Sufic practices . In some of her poemsshe hails the sun as the symbol of deity. Constantly she speaks of the mosque and the templetogether or antithetically—saying that God isequally in both
,or too great to be worshipped in
either
No Muslim I ,But an idolater,
I b ow b efore the image of my Love,And worship her
No Brahm an I,My sacred thread
I cast away, for round my neck I wearH er plaited hair ins tead .
Sometimes she even combines the Hindu andMusulman idea :In the mosque I seek my idol- shrine .
On the Day of Judgment we should have hadmuch difficulty in proving that we were truebelievers , had we not brought with us our b eloved Kafir idol as a witness .The glorification or adoration of the pir, orspiri tual teacher, is also shown in her poems .He is the intermediary between God and man,and is sometimes symbolized as the MorningBreeze, bringing from the enclosed garden the
INTRODUCTION
fragrance to those,less privileged
,who can only
stand without the gate .
The Diwan-i -Makhfi is widely read in India,and is hi ghly esteemed . Its verse is chanted inthe ecstatic concourses which meet at festivalsat the tombs of celebrated saints ; so that,although her tomb has been despoiled of thesplendour which b efitted the resting-place of aMogul princess
,she has the immortality she
perhaps would have desired . In one of herverses she says -I am the daughter of a King
,
but I have taken the path of renunciation,
and this is my glory,as my name Zeb -uh -Nissa ,
being inte rpreted , means that I am the glory ofwomankind.
J . D . W.
DULWICH 'ILLAGE ,
March 1 91 3 .
IN THE NAME OF GOD , COMPASSIONATE,THE MERCIFUL
As slavesThe powers of the darkness for meWill obedi ent fly ;If a word of my praise be accepted by Thee
,
Like Suleiman I .
And nowN0 more do the ready tears startAs laments from my tongue
,
For like pearls the blood-drops that drawnfrom my heart
On my lashes are hung.
Bear thou,
O Makhfi, with patience thy pain,It is endl ess, and leave thou the nightOf thy passions for then shall not Khizr attain
Such a spring of delight.
O THOU Who all things mortal and divineHast fashioned
,and by Whom alone we live
,
May there still shineThe torch of hope that Thou to us didst give
Within us stirs the leaven of Thy love,
As streams of water of Thy mercy run .
Look from aboveAnd bless Mahmoud and all that he hath done.
Whether it be in Mecca’s holiest shrine ,Or in the Temple pilgrim feet have trod
,
Still Thou art mine ,Wherever God is worshipped is my God .
The morning I shall greet with tears and sighs,And from my heart that burns with holy fire
A breath shall riseTo burnish thus my mirror of desire .
Give me thy tears,O Makhfi
,let them rain
In quenching torrents on my burning heart ;So hot its pain
At every sigh I breathe the flames outstart.
27
O PROPHET,o’er the world
Thy soul- compelling banner is unfurledSee how thy faith hath spread
Till Iran and Arabia are led .
Thy lips uncloseLike petals of a newly-budded rose
,
And from them flowThy words of wisdom
,till not only know
The sons of men,
But birds within the garden sing againThy words of gold .
0 thou whose beauty I with j oy behold,Nature in truth
Made never loveliness like to thy youth .
Snared me it hathTill fain would I renunciation ’s path
With patience tread,
And follow where thy holy feet have led .
But how can IMy cherished joys to my poor heart deny
,
Or, even more ,My cherished sorrows can I yield
,for sore
My heart doth bleedWhere cruel love hath wounded it indeed .
28
Look thou and seeWhere from my wounds there drOps continually
A crimson floodBut fragran t flowers are springing from my blood,
And every thornWherewith my weary wandering feet are torn
Turns to a rose .
0 Makhfi,if the Kaaba keeper closeTo thee his door
,
Complain not thou possessest even moreA holy place ;
For look into the Well-Beloved Face,
Over His EyesArches more fair than Kaaba gates arise
Thy heart shall bend,
Itself an archway welcoming the Friend.
MY eager heart a pang of rapture stingsWhen the long-wandering wind unto me bringsThe perfume of thy presence on its wings .
And so I wait in this my sorrow’s night,
Until thou givest to my weary sightThy beauty for my longing eyes’ deli ght .
The world through Isla‘
m light in darkness sawAnd walked safe guided by thy Scroll of Law,
Bowing to God in hope and holy awe
To God,Who sinners can forgive and lead
,
Inscrutable Himself,yet Who can read
The hidden heart and comprehend its need .
0 Prophet, shining like a lonely gem ,
The fairest of Heaven’s highest diadem,
Look on men’s need and intercede for them .
Thou art the veil through which the light dothshine,
Nay, thou thyself the very torch divineNaught else behold these dazzled eyes of mine.
30
HERE is the path of love—how dark and longIts winding ways , with many snares beset '
Yet crowds of eager pilgrims onward throngAnd fall like doves into the fowler’s net .
Now tell m e what the grain that drew the dove‘3
The mole it was upon a cheek so fair.Tell me of what was wove the net of loveThe wandering curls of the Beloved
’s hair.
The festival of love is holden here,
The goblet passes ; drink thou of thi s wine,Yea, drain it to the lees , and never fearIntoxication that is all divine .
How easy ’tis to sigh and to complain 'All the world weeps to give its woe reli ef ;
But proudly in thy heart conceal thy pain,
And silent drink the poison of thy grief .
Here is the source of light,the heavenly fount
,
Here is the vision of eternal grace ;Brighter than Moses thou , when from the MountHe came
,God’s radiance shm m g in his face .
3 1
The wine at night unto the morning lendsIts exaltation
,morning to the ni ght
Its dream bequeaths in turn so never endsThe sequence of the happy soul ’s delight .
But,Makhfi
,tell me where the feast is made ’
4
Where are the merry-makers 2 Lo,apart
,
Here in my soul the feast of God is laid ,Within the hidden chambers of my heart .
I would that I my longing might outpour,My grief might turn to hymns
,my pain might tell
In psalms like that sweet singer sang of yore,
David of Israel .
Unto the fields like pecking birds I goTo gather up the ears of golden grain
,
But only tears, not corn, I gather—lo,They fall in floods like rain .
0 wise one , at the feast of love be glad,But careful too
,and guard thy cup of wine
In ecstasy I drank the share I had,0 Sage ,
'
take heed of thine .
With slumber, Makhfi, heavy are thine eyes,And though thy tale has not attained its close
,
So deep a languor on thy spirit lies ;Seek thou for it repose .
As at the coming of th e spring-tide rainsRivers of sap through growing trees upstart
,
So runs Thy love throughout my very veins,Yea
,to the tender tendrils of my heart.
I beat my flinty heart till from it fliesThe spark divine of the eternal fire ,And from the flashing gleams I see ariseThe lightning of Thy love—m y heart
’
s desire .
Come,O ye weak in faith
,for help is here
,
Behold these flashes from our hearts that fly,
Had ye the eye of faith they would appearLike the white light that gleamed on Sinai .
Come to the feast of love , for it is spread ;Share ye the wine-cup where we drink so deepBehold the wine—the tears that we have shed
,
The wine- cups are our eyes that e ver weep .
But,as we drink
,upon us falls the spell,
The dream , the vision , and the ecstasyThe wine of pain turns blood, nor can we tellIf we exist, or if we cease to be .
3 5
Within the jungle of this world of woeThe lion of desire stalks ravenous .Girded with faith let us as hunters go :If we resist him he will flee from us .
Ofttimes my heart can sing and can rejoi ce,Pouring forth hymns throughout my rapturous
daysAlas
,that powers of evil choke my voice
,
And blast my thoughts,and burn my psalms of
praise
FROM the glance Thou bestowed,O Beloved,
flows beauty no words can expressMy life—fl itwere li ttle to offer in thanks for Thy
bountifulness .How shamed were the pious assembly, how
grieved in their hearts when they heardThat for love of Thy fluttering tresse s the utter
most nations were stirred.
My heart is riven in fragments, ravaged by tearsof my grief,
But to one whom Thy lashes have wounded neverthere cometh reli ef .
At Thy feet, 0 haughty Beloved, I lay down the
pride of my brow,
I am ne ar to Thy heart as Thy raiment ; whysayest A stranger art thou
O Makhfi,walk boldly like Majnun in the valley
of grief undismayed,
Girt round with thy new dedi cation, the promiseof love thou hast made .
3 7
O SARI, do thy task ;Into this moon- like goblet pour
Thegolden wm e that, shining like the sun,From out the dusky flask
Comes till my goblet bubbles o ’er,As from the clouds the dawn when night is done .
Behold my luckless heart,So broken, so dissolved by pain ,
It even flows In tears between my lashesAnd yet how can I part
With it , while still to me remainIts shards—I wait till it is burnt to ashes .
I knew long, long ago,Your promises were less than naught
,
I blotted them for ever from my mind .
Why was I born to knowAn age above all others fraught
With love ungrateful and with fate unkind
But grasp thy joy who knows,
Makhfi, what may to thee befallTh e firm foundations of the earth may shake
,
The breeze that blowsMay
,if this empty life be all
,
The bubble of our vain existence break .
38
I ASK not from Heaven that it giveFortune or power,
I ask but a garden apart,Where for the brief hour
That we are appointed to live,Of earth the delight that is nearest
Might be mineTo live in the love of the friends of my heart .
The rapturous nightingale sings,Wooing the rose
In the midst of the garden new-bornBut only the gardener knows
Of the labour that bringsTo the garden its beauty ; he toiled in the
And his feetHave been wounded by many a thorn .
Immortal is beauty,for, see ,
Like the sun in his might,It illumines the worlds and all things
are madeWith the joy of its light
For this be our thanks unto Thee,
3 9
And for the great teachers vouchsafed in our needTo guide and to lead,
Their presence to be our safe shelter and shade .
Upon us Thy mercy bestowConsider how weak
,
How afllicted we are and how sorrowful ;then
When we passionate seekFor oblivion
,and Thou dost know
How time on our desolate spirit has beatAnd brought us defeat
O save us, nor let us endure it again .
0 happy the seer who knowsGood and evil are one
,
Who has learned how self-poised he may live,
Who is shaken by none,
To whom spring with its roseAnd autumn are . equal z—not him canst thou
teachOr, careless one, preach
To him ; thou indeed hast no counsel to give .
If perilous love doth thee lead,
If thou enter hi s track,In the desert like Majnun thou dwell ’st
evermore,
Thou shalt never look backNor even take heed
AWAKE, arise, my soul for it is springLet the narcissus, WIth its scent divine,Cast its bewitchment, let the Saki bringHis idol, for indeed he worships wine .
To the forbidden path turn not aside,
And, tyrannous Beloved, let thine eyeLook on thy victims trampled in thy pride
,
Who for a glance from thee would gladly die.
Some pay their worship at the Kaaba shrine,Some pray within the Templ e courts apart
,
But, Makhfi, think what secret joy is thine,To bear thine idol ever in thy heart .
42
FRIENDS had I, many friends, who shared with meDays glad and sad
,
Butmine they are no more, I am out freeFrom all I had .
Dust falls within the cup of KaikobadAnd King Jamshi d
,
Nor recks the world if they were sad or glad ,Or what they did .
Only to day have we , and through the sand ,With feet that tire ,
We march,but never reach the promised landOf heart’s desire .
I follow on where Wisdom ’s feet have led ,And firmly hold,
The while this hard and thorny path I tread ,Her garment’s fold .
How many hearts, 0 Love, thy sword hath slain,
And yet will Slay'They bless thee , nor to Godwil l they complain
At Judgment Day.
43
When in the mosque to seek thine idol thereThou wendest
,may
Thy steps fall gently,Makhfi,
lest thouThe birds away.
WHY should I argue that on SinaiCelestial radiance glows '
I cannot reason though the world deny,
My heart enlightened knows .
My heart is hot within me,yea, has burst
In flames of love the whileSo fierce that like a drop to slake my thirst
Were all the floods of Nile .
So deep in sin am I - I cannot wendWhere holy pilgrims fare
To Mecca, even if Abraham ,God’s friend
,
Shoul d come to lead me there .
I tire of wisdom’s kingdom which is mine ,I tire of reason’s sway :
Passion of love, 0 carry me to thine,A hundred miles away.
Lo,when I come unto the water’s sideThe obedient waves retire,
My flaming heart exultantly shall guideLike Moses’ torch of fire .
45
Though evil days are mine,of joy bereft
,
With pain that never ends,
Fate,do with me your worst
,there still is left
The Friend beyond all friends .
Tell me,O Makhfi, is it I who sin 2
Is this my sin I bearIs it the body’s or the soul’s within
That lived and sinned elsewhere 7
O FOOLISH heart,Thy carelessness how can I comprehendHast thou no strength , no will, to tear apartThe barrier that divides me from my Friend
See how the budding flower,
Emerging fair from out her torn green dress ,Is beauteous in the garden for her hour
,
As Yusuf in his youthful loveliness .
Go,bree ze of spring,
Haste to tell Yakub,blinded by his tears ,
The tidings that shall end his sorrowmgAnd lift the darkness from his troubled years .
Treading love’s path so long,Under such heavy burdens did I bow
,
At last my chastened heart has grown so strong,No task, no pain, can bend my spirit now.
0 fortunate,More blessed than Alexander’s lot is mine .Come to me
,O ye thirsty : this -my fate
To know the giver of ce lestial wine.
47
I have wiped clean my heartFrom actions
,yea, and from desires as well,
And yearn alone for peace,to have no part
At Judgment in Heaven or Hell .
Gushed from my stricken, widowed heart innever-ending flood :Yet to me
,purged by grief
,does hOpe arise ,
My withered chaplets change to fragrant flowersof Paradis e .
Love holds me in these cruel fetters bound,
My faithfulness to Thee beside Thy fee t,a
beaten hound,
I crouch and fawn for crumbs of love from Thee .
O Makhfi, if thy sighs could reach the bosom ofthe sea,
Even within the cold and lightless deepCaught from thy heart a quenchless flame should
leap .
0 LO'E , I am thy thrall.As on the tulip ’s burning petal glowsA spot yet more intense
,of deeper dye
,
So in my heart a flower of passion blowsSee the dark stain of its intensity
,
Deeper than all .
This is my prideThat I the rose of all the world have sought
,
And,
’
still unwearied in the eager quest,
Fainted nor failed have I , and murmured not ;Thus is my head exalted o ’er the rest,My turban glorified .
O blessed pain ,0 precious grief I keep, and swee t unre st,Desire that dies not
,longing past control '
My heart is torn to pieces in my breast,
And for the Shining diamond of the soulI pins in vain .
Behold the lightThat from Thy torch of mercy comes to blessThe garden of my heart
,Beloved One
,
With the white radiance of its loveliness,
Till my wall’s shadow shall outvie the sun,
And seem more bright .
5 1
I humbly sit apartThe Kaaba courts the true believers tread
,
I dwell outside,nor mix my praise with theirs
Yet every fibre of my sacred threadMore precious is to God than all their prayers
He sees the heart .
0 Makhfi sorrowing ,Look from the valley of despair and painThe breath of love like morning zephyr blows
,
Pearls from thine eyelids fall like gentle rainUpon the garden
,summoning the rose
,
Calling the spring .
XVII
THE wine of my delight has lost its tasteThe earth of my existence turns a waste
,
No wholesome grass grows there,but only weed ;
My flaming spring of life has passed indeed .
I searched for joy,but never found the end ;
My empty hands , outstretched, can greet no friendAnd if God’s pardon never come to me
,
Then less than withered grass my prayers m il stbe .
But,Makhfi, look with a discerning eye
Deeper than thy despair thy bliss may lie ;Though on the path o f l ove thy feet may tire
,
New strength shall come to thee, and new desire .
53
XVIII
TYRANNICAL Lave , that goads me and gires meno rest,
As proud as thine arrogant self is this heart inmy breast,
It will keep in its painIts faithfulness, though it be trampled beneath
thy disdain.
This mirror, my heart, is '
broken against mydesire ;
0 Heaven, give me not of your pity, nay, rather
My soul that 1s proud ,
My .head, though I beat it in sorrow, has neverbeen bowed .
Think not that with joy and with ease I pursuemy desire
With heart that is weary, with footsteps thatlag and that tire ,
I follow my quest,To attain through the difficult way to the kingdom
of rest.
54
Yet, Makhfi, look up from thy desolate region ofnight,
And see how the army of sorrow has taken toflight ;
Dawn comes,and despair
Has vanished before the miracul ous arrows ofprayer .
DESOLATE one , 0 whenShalt thou the shining garden see again 7
Keep thou within thee,holy and apart
,
The garden of thy heart ;
As the long-sprisoned bird,Forgetting that it ever flew
,and heard
Songs of the wild, and pini ons wi de unfurled,Makes of the cage its world .
No fear indeed thou hast,
0 heart within the net of love held fast,Of separation ’s bitter agony
Thy love is one with thee .
Sadly we wait and tire,
And sight of the Beloved Face desireIn vain , till in our hearts the hope is born
Of Resurrection morn .
0 heart, thine be no lessThan the ascetic Brahman’s faithfulness
,
The knotted veins his wasted body bearsAs sacred thread he wears .
56
SAFELY the kings had kept their regal seat,Nor ever known the poison of defeat
,
Had not the Turks the invading army led,
And the crown toppled from each kingly headSo were we not, 0 Master, led by theeVain were our struggles
,scant our victory
How strong thou hast become,O moth
,how
great ,Worshipping thus the flame this is thy fateVainly to love and di e , yet thou canst bearThe burning sparks and ever scorn despair
Thou knowest,fluttering nearer to the fire
,
In death thou shalt be one with thy desire .
O cruel Love, —when on the Judgment DayThy tyranny God shall in full repay,And all the blameless blood that thou hast shedShall be revenged upon thy haughty head
Black Shall the place of judging be , no lessThan Kerbe la
’
s accursed Wilderness .
Haply indeed , 0 Judge, Wilt thou be kind,And pity in thy heart for sinners find ;
58
Think of the memory of their disgrace,How dark humiliation stains their face
,
The shame that stings and goads them to repentWill these not be sufficient puni shment 2
Within the desert of the world astray ,How many weary wanderers lose their Way 'But Love with beckoning hand appears
,to
bless,
Finds them a pathway through the Wilderness,And though , like Majnun, in the wild they roam,
Leads them through and tribulations home .
UNTO the garden of attainment ne ’erOur pathway led ,
And never were our eyes anhungered fedWith vision of Thy blessed countenance ,
Never a glanceAttained we of that face for ever fair .
Wherefor my tears fell down in floods like rain ,And as I sighed
I thought of my desires unsatisfied,And memory summoned up with vain regret
The garden where we met,
But mee t no more, I tell my heart with pain .
What have I then to do with high estate 2Fortune I lay aside
And all Wherein the world has taken prideYet in this day of my humility
Precious to meAs wine of kings I hold my cup of fate .
60
Despair not,sorrow-laden Makhfi,
thoughNo grass appears
Within thi s desert watered by thy tears .Why with their arguing do learned men
Question God’s mercy
,when
His works His compassion Show
XXII
GREEN is my garden , watered by my tears,And through my soul the perfume of the roseKindling my heart with its enchantment flows
O Saki,bring the cup
,for there appears
Gleaming within the garden through the nightA radiance fair our feasting to illumeWhat is this glamour shining through the
gloom 2
My heart’s blood, glowing, yields the heavenly
O,I have drunk my cup of cherished grief,And love the torment of my wounded heartAs the scars heal I tear their lips apart
,
And in my pain find rapturous relief .
Why should I then permit the winds of careTo ruffle thus my soul, as airs of springThrough the Beloved’s tresses wantoning 2
For I have risen to fortune from despair .
0 fear not, if within the house of prayerThe feeble camphor candl e fail s and diesFrom out the flaming furnace of my sighs
Will rise another light,more fierce , more fair .
The perfumed winds that with the dawn arise,
Have they not,Makhfi,
caught thy soul awayAnd drenched it with delight , so all the dayThere cling about thee airs of Paradise 2
XXIII
FOR my love’s madness all the world on meHath heaped its scorn ; so from its ways I flee
,
To find a refuge from its cruelty .
A hermitage,with peace my soul to bless
,
Here in a corner of the Wilderness,Unseen by secular eyes shall I possess .
Who is the man who boasts to be Love’s slave ,And yet this petty li fe of his would save 2
Poor Love,whose votaries are not more
brave
When I was young I asked, and Love gainsaidWhat slips
,what wanderings, on Love
’s road Imade
,
Until I summoned Wisdom to my aid '
The mirror of my heart I burnish brightUntil
,reflected fair for my delight,
The Self ’s eternal beauty greets my sight.
Like Yaqub blinded by his agony,
N0 face in all the world is aught to meWhat use have eyes except to look on Thee 2
64
XXV
WHEN I behold the garden in the Spring,Rejoicing like a nightingale I sing ;And if the cruel gardener
,with h is guile,
Try to ensnare me—like a rose I smile .
The morning breeze that from the gardenCan give no joy
,no gladness
,to my eyes ;
For, useless breeze , never to me he bringsThe fragrance of Thy garments on his wings .
But here before the garden door I wait ;Why should I d eem myself unfortunate 2For by Thy holy threshold shall I stay
,
And with my lashes sweep its dust away.
This bird,my heart, is taken in Thy net
And flutters unavailingly ; but yet,Thy captive though it be
,how canst Thou keep
Prisoned the sighs that from my bosom leap 2
O rare and precious Phoenix of the soul ,Vainly I sought for thee beyond controlMy heart has yearned for thee ; ever thy wingsHave hung above m y soul
’s imaginings .
66
Thou Enemy, that ho ld’
stme from my quest,
If even in the sea thou enterest
When from my anger thou dost seek to flee,
My burning soul will find and conquer thee .
O bulbul , glad within the garden sing ,’Tis Makhfi who has won for thee the springThat blossoms in thy heart but in her ownThe barren winds of lonely autumn moan .
XXVI
0 LO'E , tell me what is Thy nature, that out ofmy kingdom of pride
,
Thou canst ravish my soul and canst hold it,and keep it enslaved at Thy side
Who knows of Thy infinite wisdom,who knows
what Thy lovers have borneWhen madmen the world has p roclaimed them
and cast them derision and scorn 2
To drink of my blood I am thirsting,to Shed it
abroad like a sea,
To sacrifice all am I seeking,to die as a victim
for Thee .
My heart through the anguish of loving hasswooned ’neath the load of its grief
,
Come thou with thy magic, 0 music , and give
to my spirit relief .
Like Ayub I sit in the ashes o ’
erwhelm ed by thewrath of the skies
,
Yet out of the night of my sorrow shall hOpelike the morning arise :
68
and longing possessed,
I have wandered with pain and with yearning ,with hope and despair in my breast .
Yet, Makhfi, unveiled is thy secret, abroad allthy passIOn 18 told :
Who saw not the beauty of Yusuf when he inthe market was sold 2
XXVII
I HA'E no need for wineTo me the languorous and mag ic scentBreathed by the flowers within the garden
,lent
Intoxication that is more divine .
Forgive me then , I pray,That I no Wine in the assembly quaffed
,
For I have drunk of a diviner draught,
Its fragrance ever haunts me , night and day.
My heart a bird doth seemThat never joyfully can soar and sing
,
For, shut within its cage of sorrowing ,It sees the garden only in a dream .
Shall I not then complainWhen every atom of my body criesAgainst your tyranny, O cruel skies ,That yield me days so dark and full of pain 2
Grant me, O Fate ,this boon
,
Give me a little day of joy,of spring
,
When even in its cage my heart might singGlad as a bird Death comes, thou knowest, soon .
70
Although I seem so poor,Pity me not for empty-handedness ;My haughty eagle soul I still possess,And I have had the courage to endure .
How many,many years
Within the prison walls of lonely griefShall I remain and never kn ow relief
,
Like Yaqub,blinded by my useless tears 2
Though my proud soulTorn from its saddl e low into the dustMay be by cruel hands of fate downthrust
,
I know my feet will somehow reach the goal .
As through life’s desert fareLove’s pilgrims
,Makhfi,
may it be thy prideUnto Love ’s realm their caravan to guide
,
Thy footsteps be the bell to lead it there .
XXVIII
How uselessly and long I struggled hardWith thee, mine Enemy, nor from the fight
Aught have I won my trait’rous heart I guard,And turn away for ever from thy sight .
What wonder if the fire Within me riseInto a flame outleaping fierce and swift
,
And that the heavy vapour of my sighsUnto the darkened eyes of Heaven should drift '
Think not,though at the feast no more I sit,
That I have done wi th joy there still remainsThe dream that once was mine—I cherish it,Like wine its memory courses in my veins .
What though Within this valley of DespairFrom sorrow I can never find surcease,
May I be given,in answer to my prayer
,
One day at least of rest,one night of peace '
So sad my fate that , though I long and toilUntil my forces flag and faint and tire
,
I cannot burnish o ff the stains that soil,
The rust that dims my mirror of desire .
72
XXIX
IMPATIENT were my hands , and in their hasteNever could they untie the knot of fate
,
So vain it is to wail my life laid waste,
My hours unfortunate .
And strange it is that even in my heartThe sweet tormenting flame of my desireIs; quenched impatiently I pulled apart
The brands and kil led the fire .
'
And never did the blossoms of successWithin my hope ’s enchanted garden bloom
,‘
And my fair beacon- light of happinessIS sunk in gloom .
Faithless Beloved,many friends are Thine ;
So many love and have been loved by Thee,
They give their hearts,what carest Thou for mine 2
What need hast Thou of me 2
XXX
0 RI'AL, snatch not from my lips awayThe cup that holds the win e of my delightThe mirror of my joy turns cold and grey,Darkened before my sight .
As through the gloom the radiant sun aboveComes brightening the world
,and shades depart
,
So do I burnish with the oil of loveThe rust from o ff my heart .
I vainly stretch imploring hands that longTo touch Hope’s gleaming garment as she fliesThough my desire may fail , yet Hope is strongAnd keen , and never dies .
When on the cup that held the drink divineOf last night’s feast the light of morning falls
,
The joy of night, the magic of the wine,The goblet ’s sight recalls .
Like thee, O Ferhad , in my lonelinessToiling upon the mountains I have been
,
But never drank the sherbet of success,
Sweet as thy lips, Shirin .
75
Mortals we are,and
,fashioned thus of earth
,
Vain,Makhfi,
is this world in which we trust,
Dust is the rank of kings , the pride of birth,Yea, thou thyself art dust .
XXXI
DOWN in the dust and sunken in disgraceMy honour lies for all the world to see
,
But why shoul d I bear shame upon my face 2What is the honour of the world to me 2
Although the times on my unhappy headHave heaped the burdens I can hardly hear
,
I have not wept ; I smile in pride instead ;Upon my brow are graved no lines of care .
For many years hath sorrow dwelt with me,
Yet I repin e not,and so fiercely wage
My war against despair,it turns to flee
I am the Rustum of this later age .
Though callous Fate upon me vengeance wreak,O breezes blowing from the heavens above
Bring unto me what I , like Yaqub , seekThe perfume of the garments of my Love .
XXXII
HASTEN, O Saki, bringThe wine that it may grant its quickeningTo my dead heart, and to the withered flowers
Come like the showersThat give the resurrection of the spring .
What weary daysAre these
,that never in the perfumed ways
The bulbul sings among the cypress treesOnly the morning breeze
Finds entrance there,and with the roses plays .
Masiha, thou canst heal,Thou wise Physician
,hear our heart ’s appeal '
Give us the bitter draught to cure our grief,
And grant reliefBlame not the shrinking from thy cup we feel .
Glimmer not,pearly dawn
,
Let not the veil of night be yet withdrawnI long to send, with arrows of my sighs,
Unto the skiesMy eager prayers before the night be gone .
78
From griefs that burn and pains that nevercease
,
But all my cries to Heaven were empty breath ;Not even Death
Com ing at last,could give my spirit peace .
If,on the Judgment Day
,
Grieving for my transgressions,I shall pray
For mercy for the evi l I have done,
0 Self-Existent One,Grant that my tears shall wash the sin away.
0 Makhfi,for thy fate
Be not thou fearful nor disconsolateHigher , upon the Day of Reckoning,
Faquir than king,
There shall be then none lowly and none great.
XXXIII
CAST not, Beloved, on meSuch angry looks from thy narcissus eyes
,
Already conquered by their sorceryBefore thy feet my heart a captive lies .
Knotted within my heart,
The very chords that answered to thy touch,
My heart—strings at thy presence thrill and start,
For I have sighed and have lamented much .
0 ye who sleep in peace ,You know not of the troubles Love can send
,
The days whose tribulations never cease,
The weary nights that drag without an end .
Where , then , does Mecca lie 2
Here is the Kiblah where I make my prayerTell me the physio for my maladyThe anodyne for grief is everywhere .
0 Love, where dost thou lead,Upon what travel fares our caravan 2
By Hedjaz desert shall thy footsteps speed,
The longest j ourney since the world began .
80
XXXIV
WHY should we but in the assembly pray 2Only when friends are gathered call for wine 2
LO, I have done with this hypocrisy,And ever pray and drink the cup divine .
The fountain of my spirit has run dry,
So that in tears no more my sorrow flows,Mute is the heart that wailed continually,Silent the bulbul in the garden-close .
Here , as we tread the pilgrim’s way
,we find
The torch of inspiration like a fire,
Men see it not,so dull they are and blind,
They yearn not for the garments of desire .
To each was given on the Creation-dayHis fitting portion
,his appointed share
,
Why should ’st thou then.
demand from destinyMore joy than others have
,less pain to bear 2
O Makhfi, for thy counsel all have come,Their secrets thou hast kept concealed
,apart,
But why should’st thou,who for their sakes art
dumb,
Tell sham elessly the secrets of thy heart 2
82
XXXV
How long upon this soul that dwells in painThy vengeance , O Tormentor, shalt thou pour 2Coul d I the Land of Love in peace attain
,
Thy poisoned sting shoul d torture me no more.
No unguent salves these wounds upon my heart,
The diamond lancet’s healing pang I crave,
So keen my pain I tear my scars apart,
Come with thy kindly cruelty, and save
From out my keeping has my heart been reft,Why
,let it go then : wherefore should I weep 2
Over the empty hut a faquir leftNo watchman comes hi s careful guard to keep .
Hearken,the time of parting sounds for thee .
How long, 0 Makhfi,
wavering like the fire,A Kafir Shall thy restless spirit be,Blown like a flame
,tormented by desire 2
83
XXXVI
How hard to read, 0 Soul,The riddle of life here and life beyondAs hard as in the pearl to
,pierce a hole
Without the needle-point of diamond .
Chide not that ’mongst the flowersThe bulbul doth ecstatically sing ;His passion, yea and his delight, are ours ,Along the garden paths meandering .
We,by our pain made brave
,
Seek not despair nor hope ; neither outlastTheir little day . We take but what Fate gave,Not as Zule ikha, brooding o
’er the past .
0 careless ones,in vain
The treasure of your lif e has p assed away,Headle ss that nothing of your years remain,You talk like children of another day.
How vain the tears you weep 'Your sorrow fruitless
,your remorse too late
The threshold with your lashes wherefore sweep,
When, Makhfi, see, the shrine is desolate 2
84
XXXVII
WHEN thou unve il’st thy shining countenance
,
Burnt are my lashes by thy lightning glance,And all the night I passionately weepWhile o ’er my heart tempests of longing sweepAnd if I see it not
,desiring it ,
My heart is darkeii ed like a lamp unlit .
I have no hOpe , no comfort, anywhere,Caught by the fluttering tresses of thy hair .
No flower can open in my garden bedUntil my heart’s blood dyes its petals reek
Sing softly of thy love, or Silent be ,0 Makhfi,
lest the Hunter secretlyShall come and hear thy voice , and capture thee .
THE love of Thee the bul bul sings,The moth that burns its silken wings
Thy love has drawn into the fire,
And, see , the wine of Thy desire
On every goblet’s lip it clings .
N0 case , no respite anywhereIs now for me, for in Thy snare
Blindly or willingly I fall,
No liberty have I at all,
Bound by the fette rs of Thy hair .
So m any tears mine eyes have shed,Such streams of blood my heart has bled
,
That now mine eyes can weep no more,
Nor can the failing fountains pour,
For dry the source from which they fed .
Thou, Makhfi, in the burning fireOf love and unassuaged desireTossing in wild remorse, shalt dwell ;Love’s secrets weakly didst thou tell
,
So thou shalt pay with p enance dire .
86
XXXIX
No r fierce enough, 0 moth , the flame to burn
those yearning wings of thine,
Not bright enough the torch of love within ourpalace halls to shine .
Mine eyes have scattered pearls of tears,no
consolation did they gain ;The matchless jewel of my soul is given away
,
and all in vainLong is my bitter tale of grief, of separationfrom my Friend
,
Unfini shed is it even yet, although my li fe hasreached its end :
Useless , O Saki, is thy cup , no wine of comfortflows
'
for meWho drink alone the wine of blood ; to others
give thy remedyTale after tale of love is told
,linked all together
like a chain .
The fetters hold my heavy heart, of liberty Idream in vain :
Under the angry storms of death my boat oflife has foundered deep ,
My house is fallen, round its dust winds of annihilation sweep .
87
Yet,Makhfi
,if within thy heart the flame of
heavenly love arise ,Thy lonely desert shall be fair as garden
of
Behold the pages of my book of lifeBlotted its record, black with sin and strife,As if th e woe of all the world should beEver pursuing me.
O Makhfi, from this goblet thou shalt gainNo exaltation, no surcease from pain ;For tears of blood that flow from eyes grown
dimit unto the brim .
THOU bringest never, long- lost happiness,To still my heart ’s distressThe remedy I crave . Why to the crowdShould I thus voice aloudMy sadness
,drawing scorn upon my name
,
Telling the world my shame 2
If in the close-hung darkness of the nightThere shine no thread of light
,
What matter 2 Though no torches flame for me,My sorrowing heart can seeIllumined by the fire of grief it bears .Why tangled in the caresOf worldly hopes , 0 heart unsatisfied ,
Restless wilt thou abide,
Seeking those things that thou shalt never gain 2H elp askest thou in vainFrom useless friends , and far into the skiesPeace like the Phoenix flies .Behold, no herb of sweet content has grown ;For we have only sownIn far- o ff springs the seeds of our disgrace .
How could we bear to faceThe direful Judgment Day
,did we not bring
Our idol,witnessing
91
That by this Kafir worship which we giveWe true believers live 2Upon the sea of bliss our boat is set,But comfort comes not yet ;Over the soul waves of the tempest riseMenacing to the skies .
So weary,Makhfi, are thine eyes with tears ,
Darkened the world appears ,Nor can they tell , by grief and watching worn ,The rosebud from the thorn
XLII
O SELF-E'ISTENT, giveUnto Thy faithful ones their heart ’s desire
,
And visit not with Thy consuming fireO ’er-burdened souls
,too sorrowful to live .
N0 longer can I bearThe separation and the bitter griefAfflicted am I- grant my soul reliefWeary and broken— look on my despair
0 Thou, whose praise we tell,Sever the tyrant bonds
,give to the slave
His freedom,save him
,Lord
,as Thou did ’st save
Yusuf,the Moon of Canaan
,from the well '
My tears fail,for they must ;
The spring that fed their fountains has run dryGive me Thy peace
, 0 Lord ; for what am I 2Only a handful of afflicted dust.
But flowers of hope returnTo bloom within my garden of desire ,For God can call even from flames of fireTulips like torches to arise and burn .
93
XLIII
ON my tormented heart appearsAnother deep and glowing stain,
Again there dawns my day of tearsOf misery
,of weary pain .
So much of mine own blood I shed,So long the j ourneys I have done
,
So difii cult the path I tread,To catch the garment of the sun '
New balm within my heart is borne,New lightnings from my glance arise,Why then your anger
,and the scorn
Flashing from your narcissus eyes 2
Out of my heart you reft awayThe life
,my heart from out its place
You ravished,and I can but pray
O lift the veil that hides your face '
XLIV
LONG,long am I denied
The vision of thy face, for o’er it flows
The musky darkness of thy waving hair,
AS though a temple- curtain should encloseThe Kaaba
,and our hearts
,unsatisfied
,
Could never see it there .
0 Reason , that can speedA runner in the valley of desire
,
We need not strength like thine , for we possessA remedy to cure us when we tire ;The thorns and brambles are the salves we need
For pain and weariness .
Night after endless nightI sat in lonely gri ef remembering thee ;Tears fell into my heart disconsolate .
How long have I , in striving to be free,Broken my bleeding nails , but never quite
Untied the knot of fate '
95
Lo,where the feast was spread
,
What better could I offer to my guestThan wine and music when we revelled long 2Of all the wines the wine of tears was best,One song of sorrow to another led
,
Making continual song .
Thou shalt attain success,
0 happy lover,walking on the height ;
Thy shadow greater shall be evermoreThan King Jam shid
’
s,and plume s and pinions
brightAs hath the Phoenix
,shall thy soul possess
,
Arrogantly to soar .
By sorrow crucified ,
A true believer lost hi s lif e for thee,And yet di d not attain what I attainThis new delight which is bestowed onEven the friends who travelled by my
Could never know nor gain .
Red with its fount of tearsThy rosy face doth like a tulip show,
To tell what dreams within thy heart arise .
My tears have washed with their unceasing flow,The magic cup wherein the world appears
Displayed before mine eyes .
96
N0 way of j oy and ease is mine to tread,The road of shame and madn ess joy q y I choose
insteadAnd from my heart such streams of bloodshall pour
Upon the Day of Judgment,that the Desert
crimsoned o ’erShall all the rosy hues of heaven outvie
,
And Paradise be darkened, envious of its flamingdye .
If,penitent
,I shed one tear of shame
,
Then shall be cleansed the follies and the sins thatstained my name
For God shall show compassion in that day,
My record of transgressions shall be wholly sweptaway .
The tree of World’s Desire has set its rootsDeep planted in the darkness sin and shame its
bitter fruits ;Then barter not the wealth contentmentbrings
For all the wide domini ons of a thousand mightykings .
98
If from my heart I loose my heavy sighsBlack whirling from the Desert shall the blinding
dust arise .
Though,Makhfi
, God shall pardon at the last,The Skirt of Intercession hold within thy fingers
fast .
XLVI
O GI'E me, friends , your care ,Lest in my madness loudly I proclaimThe secrets of the Lord
,that all may know .
Like wax I melt within Love ’s eager flame,But in my breast a heart of stone I bear
,
Mocking its glow.
Down unto death I went,The Heavens upon me showered their cruel blows .Pity me
,O ye Chosen Ones of God
0 Enemy,when shall I gain repose,
How long shall I groan under chastisement,Win ce ’neath the rod 2
How darkened is my fameExtravagantly have I spent my store,And empty—handed in the market standA dervish am I, and can give no more,No emperor
,with glory round my name
And lavish hand .
100
Upon the feasting dayFriends joy q y in the assembly meet,But Makhfi in the lane of sorrow goesSlowly and loth, with melancholy feet,No rest
,no ease, no peace upon the way,The faquir knows .
XLVII
UNTO the garden floats the wandering airTo tell the roses that are waiting thereThe tidings of thy coming soft and sweetTheir petals open as they kiss thy feet .
If from thy moon- like face the veil arise,N0 more will Yusuf turn regretful eyesHomeward to Canaan : he will only seeThy face, and offer all his love to thee .
No remedy can heal the heart ’s distressExcept the vision of thy loveliness .Here, suffering soul s, the solace that you need 'Tear not your wounds
,no longer make them
bleed .
How difficul t the hunted deer to find,
Although hi s scent be left upon the wind ;How hard to reach thee
,though thine every tress
Breathes musk of Khotan through the wilderness '
0 happy Makhfi fortunate thy day 'For thou at the Beloved ’s feet may layThy song in homage ; happier Stil l , if thouSing rapturously evermore as now 1
103
XLVIII
S0 tyrannous thine eyes,Even the morning breeze is hot with wrath,No soft assuagement in its breath it hath,
It only faints and dies .
Like Khizr,strong and fair
,
Whose soul is steeped in the immortal spring,The well of lif e
,thou shalt be worshipping
With holy words of prayer .
Born to the Khalif ’s place,None other heired such high estate as thine,Thou hast the beauty that is all di vine,
Fairer than peri’s grace .
From hope I turned in hateNO further now false hope can cozen me .
I know the cruel Heavens conspired with theeTo darken thus my fate .
Makhfi, thy lif e flows fast,The days from out thy hand drop evermore0 turn no weary traveller from thy door,
Give him what cheer thou hast .
104
Be silent : in the desert sandsHe learnt hi s lore . Break not the restOf the afflicted and oppressedWith poisoned arrows in hi s breast.
O MIGHT I have as surma for mine eyesThe dust that on her happy threshold lies
,
And there might waiting kneel to kiss at lastHer feet like those of angels fluttering pastMy soul has girt around it sufferingAnd wears it as the garment that a kingGives to his servant
,decking him with pride .
0 Enemy that waitest by my side,How long shall I be bent beneath thy rod,And walk the path of pain my friends have
trod 2
The storm sweeps round my house,its ramparts
fail ,Its deep foundations sway before the gale .
I am a bird, who , flying home to rest ,Finds that the waters have o ’
erwhe lm ed his nest .
Sell not the jewel of thy soul so cheap,
N0 friends can help thy heart its wealth to keep .
0 King of all the roses , be thou kindUnto the bulbul
,whose unquiet mind
Makes him a mad faquir in loving theeFor even kings who ride in majesty
107
Will stop their chariots e ’er a faquir stir.
Blessed is Makhfi God has given to herThe pearl of words
,j ewel of song
Fairer than spoils of ocean or of mine .
NOTES
length of a ghazal varies,but it is not supposed to be
longer than eighteen couplets . Often the coupletswithin a ghazal have no apparent conn ection, and arecomplete in themselves . The last couplet usually
the name of the poet .Hatim , or Hatim Tai an Arabian chief fam ed for his gene
rosity : he never refused a request . H e was born inYemen , in Arabia Felix,
in pre Musulm an times . Someone asked for his head
,and he gave it
,and so died .
H edjaz the greate st desert in Arabia along its length passthe principal caravan routes .
J am shid the type of the magnificent king. H e belongedto the mythi cal Peshdadian dyn asty, and flourishedabout 800 B .0 . H e was reputed to be the builder ofPersepolis . H is reign was a kind of golden age , whensicknem and death were unknown . The angel Siroushdescended from Heaven to visit him
,and left him a robe
and,an enchanted girdl e . H e was gifted, like Moses,
with a ray of divine light ; so that once, when he wasdescending Mount Alborz
,the crowd imagined that
there were two suns in the world . H is ring and throneb ad magic powers : when he looked into his seven-ringedgoblet he could see what was passin g in all the worlds .
But pride came into his heart,and he forgot God ; his
subjects revolted agains t him and drove h im from his
kingdom,and he roam ed the earth an outcast for a
hun dred years . H e repented, and was restored , withundim inished youth, to his kin gdom and power.
Kaaba . the chi ef sanctuary of Mecca,the holy ci ty of the
Musulmans . The Kaaba was revered before the timeof Muhammad
,and was then a rude stone building ;
its name came from a word m eamng an astralagus , ordie, because of its roughly cubical shape. It has beenseveral times rebuilt
,but the old form has been pre
served except in secondary details . Into its wall isbuilt an ancient black stone
,possibly an aerolite , said
to have been given by the angel Gabriel to Abraham .
Kafir . an unbeliever one who is not a Musulman .
K aikobad . a Sultan of the Seljukian dyn asty, renownednot only for his successful wars , but as a great builderof palaces .
NOTES
K erbela the place of the massacre of Hussain, the grandsonof the Prophet, and his children, by the Omm eyyad es .
It is situated in Mesopotami a, near the western bankof the Tigris
,twenty-eight miles from the ruins of
Babylon . It is a great place of pilgrimage for theShiahs
,who hold that the spiritual leadership of Islam
devolved upon Ali ; the son-in -law of Muh ammad,and
his descendants . The tomb of Husse in is in a largemosque ; and each year two hundred thousand pilgrimsfrom all parts of the Musulm an world visit it, sometimes carrying the bones o i their ancestors to be buriedthere . The story of the death of Hussein is annual lyread
,and sometimes enacted as a miracle-play, in
Shiah communities , with much wailing and sorrow,on
the tenth day of the Mohurrum celebrations .K hizr the angel-guardi an of the spring of immortality.
K iblah the direction in which Mecca lies,indi cate d by the
mehrab,or ni che
,in the wall of a mosque, to which
the worshippers turn in prayer.Le i la and Maq
'
m m the heroine and hero of the celeb ratedArabian love-story told by many poets
,of whom the
most famous are Jami,Nizami
,and Hatifi . Kais was
the son of an Arabian chief,but , madly lovingLeila, the
daughter of a neighbouring chief,he was called Majnun,
or the mad one . Leila was married to a more powerfulsuitor
,and Majnun wandered for years in the desert,
where he taught the secrets of love to the birds and beasts .M ahm oud the praised one
,a name of the Prophet.
M aj nun the lover of LeilaM akhfi the hidden one .
M ansur Mansur al-Hallaj,a Persian saint of the ninth
century,who was crucified at Baghdad for declaring that
he was one with God.
M as ika Messiah . Jesus is known in Musulman traditionas the Healer.
Pham ix a fabul ous bird of great size and beauty,habitually
dwelling in the Caucasus Moun tains,but appearing at
very rare intervals . If it spreads its wings over the headof a man
,he becomes a king . It was s upposed to live
for seventeen hundred years,and onl y one exis ted in
the world at a time.
N OTE S
Rustum son of Zal , Prince of Seistan : a traditional h eroof Persia
,famous for his indom itable strength and G
b ravery. H e conquered the Dives , or evil spirits ,performed other miracul ous deeds , comparable tolabours of H ercul es . H e is the hero of the Shah-Nam ehof Firdausi .
Sake the cupbearer.Shirin the beloved of Ferhad The nam e means
sweet.Sule im an King Solomon ; in Musulman legend lord over
angels and demons , of great wisdom and power, understand ing the language, not only of all men, but of th ebeasts and birds . H is power lay in his possessing theseal with the name of God .
Surma kohl , or collyrium,a black powder used in Egypt
and the East for darkening the eyelids and thus givinglustre to the eyes .
Turks the Turcomans from Turkestan,who ravaged Central
Asia from Persia to India and east to China , the GreatWall of which was built as a protection agains t them.
Yaqub Jacob,who in Musulman tradition became blind
by weeping for the loss of his son Joseph, who had beensold by his brothers as a slave into Egypt he regainedhis sight when he smelt the garment of his son whichhad been brought to h im .
Yusuf Joseph,who is regarded as of superhuman lovelinem ,
surrounded by celestial light, the emblem of divine perfe cti on . H e possessed nine-tenths of the beauty allottedto the whole world .
Zaleikha daughter of TaM us , King of Mauretania. In
a dream she saw and fell in love with the im age ofYusuf ; she was not told his name , but only that hisabode was Egypt . She went to Memphis to marryAs iz Potiphar , the Grand 'izier of Pharaoh , im aginingher future husband was the vision of her dream. Yusufwas sold as a slave, and was purchased by her ; b ut,being warned by the angel Gabriel in the likeness o f
his father Jacob,he fled from her. She is represented
as always brooding over her lost happiness .
Printed by Hazel l , Watson 4: 'incy, Ld . , London and Ayla bury.