He breaks the Law, he burns the Book,
he sends the Moolah back to school;
Laughs at the beards of Saintly men;
and dubs the Prophet dolt and fool,
Embraces Cypress’ taper-waist;
cools feet on wavy breast of rill;
Smiles in the Nargis’ love-lorn eyes,
and ’joys the dance of Daffodil;
Melts in the saffron light of Dawn
to hear the moaning of the Dove;
Delights in Sundown’s purpling hues
when Bulbul woos the Rose’s love.
Showing posts with label Law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Law. Show all posts
9.22.2010
THE KASÎDAH IX, 25, 36
Labels:
Book,
Bulbul,
Cypress' taper-waist,
dance of Daffodil,
Dawn,
Dove,
Ghazal,
KASÎDAH,
Lata Mangeshkar,
Law,
Meri Tasveer Me Rang,
Moolah,
Nargis' love-lorn eyes,
Prophet,
Rose's love,
Saintly men,
Sufi
8.23.2010
THE KASÎDAH VII, 61, 76
Vain cavil! all that is hath come
either by Mir’acle or by Law;—
Why waste on this your hate and fear,
why waste on that your love and awe?
Why heap such hatred on a word,
why “Prototype” to type assign,
Why upon matter spirit mass?
wants an appendix your design?
Is not the highest honour his
who from the worst hath drawn the best;
May not your Maker make the world
from matter, an it suit His hest?
Nay more, the sordider the stuff
the cunninger the workman’s hand:
Cease, then, your own Almighty Power
to bind, to bound, to understand.
either by Mir’acle or by Law;—
Why waste on this your hate and fear,
why waste on that your love and awe?
Why heap such hatred on a word,
why “Prototype” to type assign,
Why upon matter spirit mass?
wants an appendix your design?
Is not the highest honour his
who from the worst hath drawn the best;
May not your Maker make the world
from matter, an it suit His hest?
Nay more, the sordider the stuff
the cunninger the workman’s hand:
Cease, then, your own Almighty Power
to bind, to bound, to understand.
Labels:
"Prototype",
Almighty Power,
Baul,
baul gaan,
His hest,
KASÎDAH,
Law,
Maker,
Miracle,
Monner Dukko,
Roshid Shorkar,
Sufi
8.11.2010
THE KASÎDAH VI, 61, 72
But is it so? How may we know?
Haply this Fate, this Law may be
A word, a sound, a breath; at most
the Zâhid’s moonstruck theory.
Yes Truth may be, but ’tis not Here;
mankind must seek and find it There,
But Where nor I nor you can tell,
nor aught earth-mother ever bare.
Enough to think that Truth can be:
come sit we where the roses glow,
Indeed he knows not how to know
who knows not also how to ’unknow.
Haply this Fate, this Law may be
A word, a sound, a breath; at most
the Zâhid’s moonstruck theory.
Yes Truth may be, but ’tis not Here;
mankind must seek and find it There,
But Where nor I nor you can tell,
nor aught earth-mother ever bare.
Enough to think that Truth can be:
come sit we where the roses glow,
Indeed he knows not how to know
who knows not also how to ’unknow.
8.07.2010
THE KASÎDAH VI, 33, 48
E’en if I could I nould believe
your tales and fables stale and trite,
Irksome as twice-sung tune that tires
the dullèd ear of drowsy wight.
With God’s foreknowledge man’s free will!
what monster-growth of human brain,
What powers of light shall ever pierce
this puzzle dense with words inane?
Vainly the heart on Providence calls,
such aid to seek were hardly wise
For man must own the pitiless Law
that sways the globe and sevenfold skies.
“Be ye Good Boys, go seek for Heav’en,
come pay the priest that holds the key;”
So spake, and speaks, and aye shall speak
the last to enter Heaven,—he.
your tales and fables stale and trite,
Irksome as twice-sung tune that tires
the dullèd ear of drowsy wight.
With God’s foreknowledge man’s free will!
what monster-growth of human brain,
What powers of light shall ever pierce
this puzzle dense with words inane?
Vainly the heart on Providence calls,
such aid to seek were hardly wise
For man must own the pitiless Law
that sways the globe and sevenfold skies.
“Be ye Good Boys, go seek for Heav’en,
come pay the priest that holds the key;”
So spake, and speaks, and aye shall speak
the last to enter Heaven,—he.
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