So Delicate Yesterday

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So Delicate Yesterday

So delicate yesterday,

the nightsinging birds by the creek.

Their words were:

You may make

a jewellery flower 

out of gold

and

rubies

and

emeralds,

but

it will have not

fragrance.

Have You Forgotten ? Sir Dr. Muhammad Iqbal

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I am dedicating this to the HUMANITY and the Great Soldiers and Civilian died defending Pakistan sovereignty as an Islamic State, infact it is one of my top favorites ghazal and indeed the poet. Sir Dr. Muhammad Iqbal

Sir Dr. Muhammad Iqbal (علامہ محمد اقبال /

Allama Muḥammad Iqbāl; November 9, 1877 – April 21, 1938), commonly referred to as Allama Iqbāl (علامہ اقبال‎, ʿAllāma meaning “The Learned One”), was a Lahori Muslim poet, philosopher and politician in British India.

He wrote his works in Persian and Urdu. After studying in Cambridge, Munich and Heidelberg, Iqbal established a law practice, but concentrated primarily on writing scholarly works on politics, economics, history, philosophy and religion. He is best known for his poetic works, including Asrar-e-Khudi—for which he was knighted— Rumuz-e-Bekhudi, and the Bang-e-Dara, with its enduring patriotic song Tarana-e-Hind. In India, he is widely regarded for the patriotic song, Saare Jahan Se Achcha. In Afghanistan and Iran, where he is known as Eghbāl-e-Lāhoorī (اقبال لاہوری‎ Iqbal of Lahore), he is highly regarded for his Persian works. Iqbal was a strong proponent of the political and spiritual revival of Islamic civilisation across the world, but specifically in South Asia; a series of famous lectures he delivered to this effect were published as The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam.

One of the most prominent leaders of the All India Muslim League, Iqbal encouraged the creation of a “state in northwestern India for Muslims” in his 1930 presidential address. Iqbal encouraged and worked closely with Muhammad Ali Jinnah, and he is known as Muffakir-e-Pakistan (“The Thinker of Pakistan”), Shair-e-Mashriq (“The Poet of the East”), and Hakeem-ul-Ummat (“The Sage of Ummah”).

He is officially recognized as the national poet of Pakistan. The anniversary of his birth (یوم ولادت محمد اقبال‎ – Yōm-e Welādat-e Muḥammad Iqbāl) is on November 9, and is a national holiday in Pakistan.…

Have you forgotten?

Then my heart of old times

That college of LOVE

The whip that bright eyes hold

Have you fogotten?

Not in this spacious fold

Nor any calm nook

This world is weird

Neither cage nor nest

Have you forgotten?

Out of my flesh and blood

You made this universe

It quenchless fever,

The Martyr’s Golden Crown

Have you forgotten?

My days are supported

by your alms

I have no complaints,

against friends

nor the time scold

Then my heart of old times

That college of LOVE

The whip that bright eyes hold

Have you forgotten?

Have you forgotten?

,,,

,,,

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Beni Beni

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Allah, Angel, Arts, Azam Ali, Beauty, Current Issues, Death, God, Happiness, Heart, Human, Husband, India, Iran, Kurdistan, Life, Lord, Love, LOVE SONGS, Lovers, Man, Marriage, Men, Morocco, Music, Music Video, Music Videos, Niyaz, Persian, Persian language, Poetry, Recomendations, Relationship, Song Of The Century, Songs, Sufi's, Turkey, Turkish, Uncategorized, Urdu, Video, Videos, Wife, Wisdom, Woman, Women, World, Youth

Niyaz draws even more connections between Turkey and Kurdistan, between Iran and India. The word niyaz means “yearning” in Kurmanci, the language of the Kurds, in Farsi, the language of Iran, and Urdu, a major language of northern India and Pakistan. Over the centuries, the cultures of Kurdistan and Persia and India have shared not only words, but musical and spiritual traditions and people. Azam Ali is one of them, born in Iran and raised in India; and two of the songs on Nine Heavens are by Amir Khosrau Dehlavi, a 13th-century Persian mystic and poet who was also raised in India.

From your Door of Benevolence, cast your generosity upon me

Don’t let me mix into the world of matters

Overlook my rebellion, show compassion

Take me, O Friend, to my goal – the ultimate destination

(Take) me me me me, O Beloved, (take) me me
Take me, O Friend, to my goal – the ultimate destination

“Be!” You ordered, and You created every object
You brought the existance to Your perfection
You made the Ninth Heaven a throne, and placed Yourself there
Then you reduced me, O Friend, down into the struggle of the world

(Take) me me me me, O Beloved, (take) me me
You reduced me, O Friend, down into the struggle of the world

You gave unending pain after pain to Dertli* (poet’s nickname, meaning ‘The Painful’)
You gave neither the patience, nor the effort
Neither the reign to him, nor the state
Why on earth, O Friend, have you brought me to this world

(Take) me me me me, O Beloved, (take) me me
Countless thanks, O Friend, you made my way to a safe haven at last

(Take) me me me me, O Beloved, (take) me me
Take me, O Friend, to my goal – the ultimate destination

,,

,

,,,

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Demedim Mi

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Ali, Allah, Arts, Özer Özel, Beauty, Death, Demedim Mi, English Poetry, God, Happiness, Hate, Hayko Cepkin, Health, Heart, Human, Husband, Life, Lord, Love, Lovers, Maulana, Men, Music Video, Music Videos, Peace, Persian, Relationship, religion, Songs, Sufi's, Truth, Women, World, Youth

Beautiful lover, haven’t I told you*

You can’t suffer our grief
This is a morsel of acceptance
Haven’t I told you, you can’t swallow it

These who don’t eat remain irreparable

Spread blood out from their eyes
This is a phase, it comes and passes by
Haven’t I told you, you can’t hear (sense) it

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you?
This is a phase, comes and passes by
Haven’t I told you, you can’t hear (sense) it

Look at the state of that love*
It doesn’t hesitate to say whatever comes up in its mind
Haven’t I told you, you can’t commit your life
To the way of the truth

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you
Haven’t I told you, you can’t commit your life
To the way of the truth

Lovers are desolated ones*
(Dervishes are desolated ones)*
Find the honor at the stair of the truth
Friendly conversation is sweeter than honey
Haven’t I told you, you can’t get enough of it

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you
Friendly conversation is sweeter than honey
Haven’t I told you, you can’t get enough of it

Let’s turn ourself to Ali‘s body*
(Let’s comprehend the secret of Ali)*
(Let’s go to surrender ourself to Mansur’s hands)*
Let’s appear the arena
*

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you

I’m Pir Sultan and say “our shah”*
Our soul reach the truth
Twelve leaders are our sovereigns*
Haven’t I told you, you can’t conform to

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you
Twelve leaders are our sovereigns
Haven’t I told you, you can’t conform to

,,,

…

,,,

,,,

Kam Miyaaramet

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Just when I write something about you and transfigure you into words, I’m feeling the sorrow like a heavy burden on my shoulders

Just when you blossom like a flower within my diary, (I’m feeling) the warmth of your lips once more … (I’m feeling) my cheeks once more*

Just when I promise myself for the last time to forget about you. I am being hurt once more … I am starting to believe that I can’t (forget about you)

For always, I miss you, I can’t stop shedding tears for the sake of you

For always, I miss you, I can’t stop shedding tears for the sake of you

The crying is my duty, Don’t waste your (precious) tears

You can’t find a word (for describing my emotional state), Don’t look for it just like that

The distances have been made just for me**, Don’t distance yourself from me

Stay with me for understanding that, I can’t keep myself from crying (just for you)

For always, I miss you, I can’t stop shedding tears for the sake of you

…

 

My Misery

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Do not overlook my misery,

by blandishing your eyes and weaving tales,

My patience has over-brimmed, O sweetheart!
why do you not take me to your bosom.

Long like curls in the night of separation
short like life on the day of our union.

My dear, how will I pass the dark dungeon night
without your face before.

Suddenly, using a thousand tricks
the enchanting eyes robbed me of my tranquil mind.

Who would care to go and report
this matter to my darling.

Tossed and bewildered, like a flickering candle,
I roam about in the fire of love.

Sleepless eyes, restless body,
neither comes she, nor any message.

In honour of the day I meet my beloved
who has lured me so long, O Man!

I shall keep my heart suppressed
if ever I get a chance to get to her trick.

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