آڈیوز
یہ صفحہ صرف صداکار فاطمه زندی کی دستیاب آڈیوز دکھاتا ہے۔
A world altogether, to pass life a single moment in grief is not worth: For wine, sell our ragged religious garment; for more than this it is not worth.
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In eternity without beginning, of glory, the splendor-ray of Thy beauty boasted. Revealed became love; and, upon all the world, fire dashed.
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In the morning when, his standard on the mountainous lands, the Khosro of the east pitched, With the hand of mercy, the door of hopeful ones, my beloved beat;
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Play a note, at the melody whereof, a great sigh, one can cast: Utter a verse, whereby the heavy cup of wine one can cast.
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If after Him, I go, He up stirreth calamity: And if I sit from search, in wrath, He ariseth.
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To our friend, in beauty of disposition and of fidelity, one reacheth not In this matter, to thee, denial of our work reacheth not.
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Desire of passion for Thy fresh down to whomsoever, shall be: Forth from the circle he planteth not his foot, so long as he shall be.
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I and refusal of wine! What a tale this is! Doubtless, this degree of reason mine; and sufficient is.
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Not all purity without alloy is the coat of the Sufi; O many a Khirka, that is worthy of the fire!
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Pleasant is Khalvat, if my beloved, the Beloved shall be Not if I consume and the candle of assembly, He shall be.
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How a verse exciteth afresh the heart that is sorrowful! A subtlety out of this book, we uttered; and is this very subtlety.
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Happy came the rose; and more happy than that aught is not. For, in thy hand, save the cup aught is not.
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Without the beloved’s face, the rose is not pleasant. Without wine, spring is not pleasant.
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Musk-diffusing, the breath of the morning breeze shall be: Again the world old young shall be.
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As for me, out of my head, love for those dark of eye will not go: This is the sky’s decree; and other way, it will not be.
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“The day of separation from, and the night of disunion with, the Beloved is ended:” This omen, I cast; the star passed; and the work of grief is ended.
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The star gleamed; and the moon of the assembly became: Of our affrighted heart, the consoler and comforter became.
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That my heart’s work should be ended, my soul melted; and it became not: In this immature wish, I consumed; and it became not.
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Friendship in none, I perceive. To friends what hath happened? Friendship ended when? To friends what hath happened?
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Last night, to the wine-house, Zahed, sitting in khalwat, went: From the head of his covenant, he departed; and to the head of the cup, went.
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Last night a messenger of news from His Highness Asaf came. From His Highness Soleiman, the order of joy came.
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Love for Thee, the plant of perturbation became Union with Thee, the perfection of perturbation became.
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When, in prayer, to me recollection of the curve of Thy eye-brow came. A state passed that, into lament, the prayer-arch came.
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O heart! glad tidings that the morning breeze hath come back, From the quarters of Saba the lap-wing of good news hath come back.
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For the congratulation of the Pir, wine-seller, the morning-breeze came Saying: “The season of joy, and of pleasure, and of freshness, and of sweet ness is came.”
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In the morning, to my pillow, vigilant fortune came: Said: Arise! For that thy dear Khosro hath come.
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Not every beloved one that up-kindleth his face the work of a heart-ravisher knoweth. Not every one who maketh the mirror, the work of a Eskandar knoweth.
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Whoever became the confidant of his own heart, in the sacred fold of the Beloved remained: He, who knew not this matter, in ignorance remained.
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Arrived the glad tidings that grief’s time shall not remain: Like that remained not; like this shall not remain.
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O thou whose pistachio, laugheth at the tale of candy! I am desirous. For God’s sake, one sweet smile, smile.
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Thou wrotest not the account of thy state; and, passed some time: Where a confidant so that to thee, I may send some message?
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Last night I saw that the angels beat the door of the tavern, The clay of Adam, they shaped and into the mould, they cast.
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Of coins, is it that they examination take So that, after their own work, all the cloister-holders take?
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If lawful the need of profligates, the wine-seller maketh, His sin, God forgiveth; and, repelling of calamity maketh.
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O heart! Consume. For deeds thy consuming maketh: The repelling of a hundred calamities, the midnight supplication maketh.
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For profligacy and love, my censure that foolish one maketh; Who, on the mysteries of men of hidden knowledge, criticism maketh.
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If again passing, the bird of fortune shall make. Again the Beloved shall come; and contentment with union shall make.
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One day, when recollection of us thy musky reed maketh, It will take reward: Two hundred slaves that free, it maketh_
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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?
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Inclination for the sward, the cypress of my sward, wberefore maketh not? The fellow-companion of the rose, becometh not? Memory of the lily maketh not?
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Astonished at our glance-playing, those void of vision are: As I appeared so I am; the rest, they know.
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Those of lily perfume cause grief’s dust to sit when they sit: Patience from the heart, those of Angel-face take when they strive.
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The slave of thy intoxicated eye, crown-possessors are: Undone with the wine of Thy ruby lip, sensible ones are.
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Those Mursheds, who, with their glance alchemy of the dust make, At us, eye-cornering, do they make?
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If, in this way, heart-ravishingness, lovely ones make, In the faith of Zaheds, breaches, they will make.
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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.”
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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.
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Thou knowest what tale that the harp and the lyre make? Secretly drink ye wine that thee precious they may make.
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