Strange Currents
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

O Khusrow, the river of love
creates strange currents:
the one who would surface invariably drowns,
while the one who surrenders, survives.

There are a number of translations of this poem, and they all involve some degree of interpretation. I can't claim that my interpretation is "correct" and sometimes poets are intentionally ambiguous. I based my translation on this explanation by Madhu Singh: “Ubhra-Floats: He who floats actually sinks (is lost) & and he who drowns actually reaches the other side (gets salvation).” In other words, one must stop struggling and surrender to the river of love. And this makes more sense to me than some of the other translations do.

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Becoming One
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I have become you, as you have become me;
I am your body, you my Essence.
Now no one can ever say
that you are someone else,
or that I am anything less than your Presence!

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I Am a Pagan
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I am a pagan disciple of love: I need no creeds.
My every vein has become taut, like a tuned wire.
I do not need the Brahman's girdle.
Leave my bedside, ignorant physician!
The only cure for love is the sight of the patient's beloved:
there is no other medicine he needs!
If our boat lacks a pilot, let there be none:
we have god in our midst: we do not fear the sea!
The people say Khusrow worships idols:
True! True! But he does not need other people's approval;
he does not need the world's.

*****-e-ishqam musalmani mara darkaar neest
Har rag-e mun taar gashta hajat-e zunnaar neest;
Az sar-e baaleen-e mun bar khez ay naadaan tabeeb
Dard mand-e ishq ra daroo bajuz deedaar neest;
Nakhuda dar kashti-e maagar nabashad go mubaash
Makhuda daareem mara nakhuda darkaar neest;
Khalq mi goyad ki Khusrau but parasti mi kunad
Aarey aarey mi kunam ba khalq mara kaar neest.

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Amir Khusrow’s elegy for his mother
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Wherever you shook the dust from your feet
is my relic of paradise!

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Paradise
by Amir Khusrow (1253-1325)
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

If there is an earthly paradise,
It is here! It is here! It is here!

Amir Khusrow (or Khusro) was born in 1253 A.D. in Patiyala, India, His paternal ancestors belonged to the nomadic tribe of Hazaras. Khusrow called himself an Indian Turk (Turk-e-Hind). He was a Sufi mystic, musician, poet, composer and scholar who wrote in Persian (Farsi) and Hindavi (Hindi-Urdu). Khusrow has been called the “Voice of India” and the “Father of Urdu literature.” He introduced the ghazal to India and made significant contributions to its development. He also wrote in other musical and verse forms, including qawwali, masnavi, qata, rubai, do-baiti and tarkib-band.? Keywords/Tags: Amir Khusrow, Khusro, India, Urdu, Hindi, Farsi, Sufi, ghazal, love

My earth
rises
to meet your sky
And, it rains

the flowers of your longing
are blooming
in the forest of my soul
Don't pluck them, beloved
it hurts

Once, I saw myself looking at you
An entire life flashed me by
In this moment, I created a destiny

There isn't a need to be jealous
the power lies in us
that transcends all understanding

However be warned
My happiness is a generic fantasy
Loneliness is my true destiny

Come back, look around you
See & feel the love all over
in what's known as reality.

i like to stay awake late in the night
you see, I wait for twilight time
when sun & moon agree with each other
my mind is flooded with clouds
in this time I am truly in peace

i wait patiently
the call to prayer comes
the sun takes over
i am ready to dream now

i was born the day I saw you
the universe is proof of this

her smile set me free
the birds in the sky prove this

her hair taught me all that I know
the flowers understand this

my friends, every day the sun & moon compete against her eyes

all of this from one look
come, let me hear your voice...

I’ve reached a stage in my life where I only want people around me who believe in God and higher powers
People whose stench reek of spirituality and enlightenment
Everything else just seems like a distraction
Temporary pleasure
An environment where I’m constantly reminded that I’m powerless by myself,
an insignificant being
That I’m at my most powerful when I’m connected to the universe’s frequency and surrender myself to Him.

"A "Sufi" doesn't question any one..
Otherwise he is not the One..
Let the World run its Run,
It has its own caretaker, from whence we all come,
Who are you and me to decide why all this fun."

(BAK)

bahir sufi naach nachawey,
andar ishq dhamaalan paave

Your exhausted heart longs
for the pillow
of my beating one
As much as
your weary head
yearns to rest
there too

But do not cry,
my love
That we are apart
in this world.
What is separation
for a single soul?

We are two aspects
of a single breath
Think of
how deeply we are exhaling
Oh,
  what a relief it is
to have found you!
though you were in me all along

We are not apart
No, not really
For we cannot be parted
How does one sever an ocean
Or an eternal flame?
You are not my life
But we are life itself
Together

And look how much we are living it.

Life is a veil
And we are the riders
Carrying opposite corners
to vast expanses
Spreading it over the world
and coloring gardens beneath
in the deep scarlet
of our undying hearts

Do not cry, my love.

We are a compound
that cannot be split.
    We were always
    one element
    anyway.

@Sheherazad.poetry