Audio recordings
This page shows only audio recordings by فاطمه نیکو ایجادی.
Ghazaliyat by Hafez, in audio recordings by فاطمه نیکو ایجادی
Ho! O Saki, pass around and offer the bowl: For love at first appeared easy, but difficulties have occurred.
The rectitude of work, where? and, I ruined where? Behold the distance of the Path, from where to where?
O breeze! with softness speak to the beautiful fawn, Saying: Thou hast given to us desire for the mountain and the desert.
For God’s sake. O pious ones! forth from the hand, goeth my heart. For God’s sake: O the pain that the hidden mystery should be disclosed.
To the Sultan’s attendants, who will convey this prayer “In thanks for sovereignty, away from sight drive not the beggar?”
O Lord! that candle, night-illuminating, from the house of whom is? Our soul hath consumed. Ask ye, saying: “She, the beloved, of whom is?”
Memory be of that one, who, at the time of journeying memory of us made not: Who, by farewell, joyous our grief-stricken heart made not.
Save the love of those moon of face, a path my heart taketh not: To it, in every way, I give counsel; but it kindleth not.
Who is that one, who, by way of manliness, fidelity with me will make; In respect of an ill-doer like me, once a good deed will make?
Astonished at our glance-playing, those void of vision are: As I appeared so I am; the rest, they know.
The slave of thy intoxicated eye, crown-possessors are: Undone with the wine of Thy ruby lip, sensible ones are.
Those Mursheds, who, with their glance alchemy of the dust make, At us, eye-cornering, do they make?
If, in this way, heart-ravishingness, lovely ones make, In the faith of Zaheds, breaches, they will make.
I said: “Me, prosperous, Thy mouth and lip, when do they make?” He said: “By my eye whatever thou sayest even so do they make.”
The admonishers who, in the prayer-arch and the pulpit, grandeur make, When into their chamber they go, that work of another kind they make.
O breeze from such a one's street, me, a perfume bring. Weeping and sad of grief, I am ; me, ease of soul, bring:
Ravished is my heart by one like a singing girl, clamour-exciter, False of promise, slayer by nature, and colour (of deceit) mixer.
O breeze ! if by the bank of the river Araxes, thou pass, Upon the dust of that valley, a kiss express ; and thy breath (from the perfumed dust) musky make.
From the world's rose-garden one rose of cheek (is) for us enough : From this sward, the shade of that moving cypress (the true Beloved is) for us enough.
O heart! the companion of thy journey, fortune, well-wishing, (is) for thee enough : The footman of the path, the breeze of the garden of Shiraz (is), for thee enough.
Love's pain, I have endured to such a degree- that ask not . Separation's poison, I have tasted in such a way that ask not.
Of His black tress (the world), complaint I have to such a degree that ask not : For, on account of it, without means and resource, I am become in such a way that ask not.
(O Murshid !) come back; and of my straitened heart, the soul's sincere friend be: Of this consumed one (with love), the reposer of hidden mysteries be.
If thou be the compassionate friend, true of covenant, be: The companion of the closet (in grief) ; and of the hot bath and of the rose-garden (in ease) be.
In the (spring) season of the tulip (the murshid), the cup take; and void of hypocrisy be : With the perfume of the red rose (of 'Irak), a moment concordant with the breeze (the murshid) be.
Sufi ! a beautiful rose pluck ; and to the thorn the patched religious garment, give For pleasant tasting wine, this thy dry austerity, give
The gardener (the holy traveller) if, for a space of five days, (a life-time), the society of the rose (the true Beloved) is necessary for him, Against the tyranny of the thorn of separation, the patience of the (patient) bulbul is necessary for him.
The thought of the bulbul (the holy traveller) all is that, that the rose (the true Beloved), his beloved may be : The rose, in thought how, in her work, grace she may display.
Bitter (strong) wine, whose power is man-overthrowing, I desire : Perchance, a moment, from the world and its iniquity and clamour, I may rest.
O happy ! Shiraz, and its peerless site : O Lord ! it from decline, preserve.
When His (the true Beloved's) tress, ambergris-diffusing, the breeze (fate and destiny) dishevelled, Every shattered one, with whom it (the breeze) joined, his life fresh became.
O Lord! that fresh laughing rose whom to me, Thou entrustedest, To Thee, on account of the envious ones of the sward, I entrust.
From me, tranquillity, power, and sense took, The idol of stony heart, of silvern lobe (of ear).
At morn, from the invisible messenger, to my ear reached the glad tidings : " Tis the age of Shah Shuja ' (the soul) ; wine (love's tumult), boldly drink !"
Last night from the corner of the wine-house, an invisible messenger Spake : " Sin, they pardon : wine, drink !"
In the age of the king, fault-forgiving, crime-covering, Flagon-drinker, became Hafiz ; and cup-drinker, the mufti.
Last night, to me, a mystery-knower, keen of sense, secretly spake, Saying : " Concealed from thee, one cannot hold the mystery of the wine-seller."
O (true Beloved)! the form, all of Thine is beautiful ; and the place all of Thine, happy : My heart from the grace of the ruby lip sugar-eating of Thine, happy.
The water-bank, and the willow-root and the poetic nature and a friend, happy A companion, the sweet heart-ravisher, and the Saki, rose of cheek, happy.
O morning cypress ! without thee, with the rose and the rose-bud, what may I do ? The tress of the hyacinth, how may I draw; (with) the cheek of the lily what may I do?
Not that profligate am I that abandoning of the (true) Beloved and of the cup I make : An act like this, the muhtasib knoweth seldom do I make.
From the (true) Beloved, is my pain ; and my remedy, also: A sacrifice for Him, became my heart, and my life, also.
Heart given from the hand, lovers, void of grief, intoxicated, (selfless and powerless), we are : Fellow-associate of love, boon-companions of the cup of wine, we are.
Arise ! so that to the tavern, the sufi-khirka, we may take ; (So that) to the bazar of idle tales, the ragged religious garment and idle talk, we may take.
The Shah of those box-tree of stature, Khusrau of those sweet of mouth, Who, with His eye-lash, the centre (of an army) all rank-shatterers, shattereth,
By her two tresses, Salma bound my heart ; Yet, every day, my soul crieth to me : "Come and die ! "
Efforts, a thousand, I made that, my (true) Beloved, Thou shouldst be; (That) the desire-giver of my sorrowful heart, Thou shouldst be.
O heart! that moment when, intoxicated with wine rose of hue, thou art Without gold and treasure, with a hundred pomps of Karun thou art.
Came the breeze giving fragrance of Hima (the abode of the beloved) ; and my desire increased : Be my precious life a ransom for the dust of the Friend's door.
(O true Beloved !) Thy well-wisher, I am, and (this) I know that Thou knowest ; For, both the un-seen, Thou seest; and also the un-written (by fate), Thou readest.
