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Old Friday, December 23, 2005
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Arrow Pashto Poetry

Hell


It is the measure of man’s eye -
The black and the white;

The fancy of man’s tongue -
Both milkweed and honey.

The tapping of my fingertips,
A soft arm and smooth cheek -

These songs of my spirit,
Flowery and sweet.

My God has made this
Colorful wine from water;

For some a sea of wine
Is a droplet of zamzam;

For some a sea of zamzam
Is a glum evening of sorrow;

To some a small white candle
Stands bright as the moon;

Some hear the message of Gabriel
From the red lips of the beloved.

One crown turns crimson with blood;
Some throne blackened by night;

One found it on the cross;
The other on a red silken pillow;

Some discover, like Moses,
In a lifeless idol the face of the beloved -

One turns it into dread and tears,
The other into beauty and spirit.

Some from a flower, from a child’s face,
Create the lips of love;

Some find it by the narcissus,
Some among thorny bushes.

Happy the man who went
Laughing to the lap of his love -

Some tear from the bridal dress
A coffin for the beloved.

Lord! Lord! My lord!
I’m maddened by reflections -

How can I curse and tyrannize
The spring and crimson flowers.

How can I lend the Mullah an ear
And forget the lark and bulbul;

How upon your grace and light
Can I cast the veil of ugliness!

Turn the white morning of laughter
To a dark eve and tomb?

Turn man’s despair to
The red joy of afterlife?

From the fakir’s intrepidity
Create a king’s drunkenness?

From the fire and might of hell
Delineate your grace?

How can I believe you made
This world and the skies for this -

When Khayyam is driven by force
To the pilgrimage of ka’aba?

This heart so full of spirits was
Made just to harbor doubts?

Were beauty and love spun out
As a tale of retribution?

You made out of your grace
Beauty and doting;

The shade of your under-plumes
Is soft and colorful at each sundown.

You laughed that the rose’s color
Was borne away on a butterfly’s wing;

In your hand, Khayyam’s goblet
Took away abandon and love.

How do I bother Ghani with
The end and the judgment day?

Imbue spite in a bulbul’s heart
For springtime and flowers?

How can I lay the shawl of a vassal
On the fair face of Laila?

Fulfill the longing of a Negro
With the presence of a fairy?

How can I turn over to the hand
Of the beloved the dagger of betrayal?

How can I sink in a dark well
The secret of enamored eyes?

How can I submerge a beautiful world
In a single drop of night;

How can I turn the glow
Of candlelight to ashes!


Lord! Lord! My lord!
I’m maddened by reflections

How can I curse and tyrannize
The spring and crimson flowers!

.....................................



Da Adam de Nazar tul de
ke da tor de,ka da speen
De Adam de jabe khayal de
De soplma yo angabeen
......
Nu sanga omanum th jor ku
da jahan ao asmaan dy la

chi khayyam rawan pa zor ki
tawafonu la ka'abi la

Raba Raba zama Raba
Liwany shum pa fikrono



Abdul Ghani Khan

Last edited by Argus; Sunday, December 25, 2005 at 10:28 PM.
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  #2  
Old Sunday, December 25, 2005
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Thumbs up pushto language has very deep.......

dear adnan
Its very nice of u that u embark on something new project and this time u have posted pushto poetry.Really, the poetry of pushto is full of profound thoughts.hope u continue this to share with such deep thought with us.
Allah hafiz



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Old Saturday, May 23, 2020
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Argus View Post
Hell


It is the measure of man’s eye -
The black and the white;

The fancy of man’s tongue -
Both milkweed and honey.

The tapping of my fingertips,
A soft arm and smooth cheek -

These songs of my spirit,
Flowery and sweet.

My God has made this
Colorful wine from water;

For some a sea of wine
Is a droplet of zamzam;

For some a sea of zamzam
Is a glum evening of sorrow;

To some a small white candle
Stands bright as the moon;

Some hear the message of Gabriel
From the red lips of the beloved.

One crown turns crimson with blood;
Some throne blackened by night;

One found it on the cross;
The other on a red silken pillow;

Some discover, like Moses,
In a lifeless idol the face of the beloved -

One turns it into dread and tears,
The other into beauty and spirit.

Some from a flower, from a child’s face,
Create the lips of love;

Some find it by the narcissus,
Some among thorny bushes.

Happy the man who went
Laughing to the lap of his love -

Some tear from the bridal dress
A coffin for the beloved.

Lord! Lord! My lord!
I’m maddened by reflections -

How can I curse and tyrannize
The spring and crimson flowers.

How can I lend the Mullah an ear
And forget the lark and bulbul;

How upon your grace and light
Can I cast the veil of ugliness!

Turn the white morning of laughter
To a dark eve and tomb?

Turn man’s despair to
The red joy of afterlife?

From the fakir’s intrepidity
Create a king’s drunkenness?

From the fire and might of hell
Delineate your grace?

How can I believe you made
This world and the skies for this -

When Khayyam is driven by force
To the pilgrimage of ka’aba?

This heart so full of spirits was
Made just to harbor doubts?

Were beauty and love spun out
As a tale of retribution?

You made out of your grace
Beauty and doting;

The shade of your under-plumes
Is soft and colorful at each sundown.

You laughed that the rose’s color
Was borne away on a butterfly’s wing;

In your hand, Khayyam’s goblet
Took away abandon and love.

How do I bother Ghani with
The end and the judgment day?

Imbue spite in a bulbul’s heart
For springtime and flowers?

How can I lay the shawl of a vassal
On the fair face of Laila?

Fulfill the longing of a Negro
With the presence of a fairy?

How can I turn over to the hand
Of the beloved the dagger of betrayal?

How can I sink in a dark well
The secret of enamored eyes?

How can I submerge a beautiful world
In a single drop of night;

How can I turn the glow
Of candlelight to ashes!


Lord! Lord! My lord!
I’m maddened by reflections

How can I curse and tyrannize
The spring and crimson flowers!

.....................................



Da Adam de Nazar tul de
ke da tor de,ka da speen
De Adam de jabe khayal de
De soplma yo angabeen
......
Nu sanga omanum th jor ku
da jahan ao asmaan dy la

chi khayyam rawan pa zor ki
tawafonu la ka'abi la

Raba Raba zama Raba
Liwany shum pa fikrono



Abdul Ghani Khan
good one
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