Audio recordings
This page shows only audio recordings by زهرا بهمنی.
Ghazaliyat by Hafez, in audio recordings by زهرا بهمنی
The rectitude of work, where? and, I ruined where? Behold the distance of the Path, from where to where?
If that Bold One of Shiraz gain our heart, For His dark mole, I will give Samarkand and Bukhara.
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 Sufi! come; for bright is the mirror of the cup: That thou mayst see the brightness of the wine of ruby hue.
O Saki! arise; and give the cup: Strew dust on the head of the grief of time.
The splendor of youth’s time again belongeth to the garden; The glad tidings of the rose reacheth the bulbul sweet of song.
Last night from the Masjed towards the wine tavern our Pir came: O friends of the Path! after this, what is our plan?
Saki! with the light of wine, up-kindle the cup of ours. Minstrel! speak, saying: “The world’s work hath gone to the desire of ours.”
O! the splendor of the moon-beauty from the illumined face of Thine! The lustre of beauteousness from the chin-dimple of Thine!
The morning blossometh; and the cloud bindeth a veil: O companions! the morning cup! the morning cup!
O fragrant morning breeze! The Beloved’s rest-place is where? The dwelling of that Moon, Lover-slayer, Sorcerer, is where?
Into the Magian’s cloister, came my Friend a goblet in His hand: With wine intoxicated, He with his eye intoxicated the wine-dirnkers.
The chamber of vision of my eye is the dwelling of Thine: Show courtesy, and alight, for this house is the House of Thine.
Since thy tress-tip, into the power of the breeze, fell, My distraught heart, into two pieces on account of grief, fell.
Thanks be to God that the door of the wine-tavern open, is. In such a way that, my face of supplication upon its door is.
That envoy, who arrived from the country of the Friend; And brought the amulet of life from the dark writing of the Friend.
Welcome! O Messenger of the Longing Ones, give the message of the Friend. That, with the essence of pleasure, I may make my soul a sacrifice for the Friend.
Thy face, none hath seen; and a thousand watchers are Thine, Still in the rosebud, Thine many a nightingale is.
More pleasant than the pleasure and the enjoyment of the garden and the spring is what? Where is the Said? Say: “The cause of our waiting is what?”
O nightingale! bewail if, the desire of being a lover with me, thine is. For, we two are, weeping lovers; and our work, weeping is.
From the city, my moon went this week; to my eye a year it is: The state of separation what knowest thou how difficult the state is?
The Zahed, outward worshipper! Of our state, knowledge is none. In respect of us, whatever he saith, room for abhorrence is none.
Now, that the fragrant breeze of Paradise bloweth from the rose garden. I and the wine, joy-giving and the Beloved angel.
My heart, in desire of the face of Farrukh, Is in confusion like the hair of Farrukh.
At morning time, a perfume from the Beloved’s tress, the breeze brought: Into action, our heart distraught for Thee brought.
When my Beloved the wine-cup in hand taketh, The market of idols, disaster taketh.
Thou wrotest not the account of thy state; and, passed some time: Where a confidant so that to thee, I may send some message?
Last night, at morning time, me freedom from grief, they (Fate and Destiny) gave. And, in that darkness of night, me the water-of-life they gave.
If lawful the need of profligates, the wine-seller maketh, His sin, God forgiveth; and, repelling of calamity maketh.
For profligacy and love, my censure that foolish one maketh; Who, on the mysteries of men of hidden knowledge, criticism maketh.
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?
Thou knowest what tale that the harp and the lyre make? Secretly drink ye wine that thee precious they may make.
In desire of that I am that, if, forth from my hand, it come, I may fix my hand upon a work such that the end of grief may come.
O intimate friends (the crowd of lovers)! from the (true) Beloved's (black) tress, the knot (the forbidder of glories) open make ye Happy is such a night ! it, with this union (with the tress), long make ye.
Joyous that day when from this desolate abode (this world), I go : The ease of soul (the true Beloved), I seek : and for the sake of the Beloved I go.
If, from this stage (this world) of travel towards the house (my native land, the next world), I go : When there again I go, wise and learned, I go.
Evil (of any) we utter not ; inclination to the injustice (of any) we make not : Black, the face of any one ; and blue, our own religious garment, we make not,
O light of my eye (the holy traveller) ! a matter there is, hear : "Since thy cup (of love for God) is full ; cause others to drink; and thyself drink.
(O beloved !) glance make ; and the market of enchantment shatter ; With the glance of splendour, the face of the (enchanter) Samiri, shatter,
One lofty of stature, bold, picture-player of mine Made short the tale (of renown) of the long austerity of mine.
When (to reach His skirt) the dust of His path, I become, His skirt He shaketh from me : If I say: "(In love), my heart, return," His face, He turneth from me,
If to the voice of the bulbul and of the turtle-dove, wine thou drink not; Thee, how may I cure? The last remedy is the cautery.
