#persian
It was in the Mughal period
That a combined bathroom,
Shower & toilet put together,
Were called a Ghusl Khana.
Inside it proceeded many stuff,
Literally meaning cleansing,
Of both the body and soul.
Sat the emperor inside,
Busy in cleaning his body,
And his soul too with water,
And with the warmth of it,
He tried cleansing his soul,
After administrating the empire,
And being engaged in battles.
The battles of truth,
The battles of trust,
The battles of faith.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
هر موج نگاه و خنده ها زیبا است
از یار سخن لب شفا زیبا است
ای دوست چه عجب که بیوفا زیبا است
این عشق و حال مبتلا زیبا است
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 9:02 AM UTC
The Eager Traveler
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Even in the torture chamber, I was the lucky one;
When each lottery was over, unaccountably I had won.
And even the mightiest rivers found accessible refuge in me;
Though I was called an arid desert, I turned out to be the sea.
And how sweetly I remember you, oh, my wild, delectable love—
Like the purest white blossoms, on talented branches above.
And while I’m half-convinced that folks adore me in this town,
Still, all the hands I kissed held knives and tried to shake me down.
You lost the battle, my coward friend, my craven enemy,
When, to victimize my lonely soul, you sent a despoiling army.
Lost in the wastelands of vast love, I was an eager traveler,
Like a breeze in search of your fragrance, a vagabond explorer.
Published in the anthology Eastern Promise
I Cannot Remember
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I once was a poet too (you gave life to my words), but now I cannot remember
Since I have forgotten you (my love!), my art too I cannot remember
Yesterday consulting my heart, I learned
that your hair, lips, mouth, I cannot remember
In the city of the intellect insanity is silence
But now your sweet, spontaneous voice, its fluidity, I cannot remember
Once I was unfamiliar with wrecking ***** and ruins
But now the cultivation of gardens, I cannot remember
Now everyone shops at the store selling arrows and quivers
But neglects his own body, the client he cannot remember
Since time has brought me to a desert of such arid forgetfulness
Even your name may perish; I cannot remember
In this narrow state of being, lacking a country,
even the abandonment of my fellow countrymen, I cannot remember
Ranjish hi Sahi ("If it means Grief, so be it")
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Come, even with anguish, even to torture my heart;
Come, even if only to abandon me to torment again.
Come, if not for our past commerce,
Then to faithfully fulfill the ancient barbaric rituals.
Who else can recite the reasons for our separation?
Come, despite your reluctance, to continue the litanies, the ceremony.
Respect, even if only a little, the depth of my love for you;
Come, someday, to offer me consolation as well.
Too long you have deprived me of the pathos of longing;
Come again, my love, if only to make me weep.
Till now, my heart still suffers some slight expectation;
So come, ***** out even the last flickering torch of hope!
No Explanation! (I)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Please don't ask me how deeply it hurt!
Her sun shone so bright, even the shadows were burning!
No Explanation! (II)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Please don't ask me how it happened!
She didn't bind me, nor did I free myself.
Alone
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Why are you sad that she goes on alone, Faraz?
After all, you said yourself that she was unique!
Separation
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Faraz, if it were easy to be apart,
would Angels have to separate body from soul?
Time
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
What if my face has more wrinkles than yours?
I am merely well-worn by Time!
Ahmad Faraz [1931-2008], born Syed Ahmad Shah, was a Pakistani poet generally considered to be one of the greatest modern Urdu poets. Faraz was a poet accessible to ordinary readers due to his “fine but simple style of writing.” Ethnically a Hindkowan, he studied Persian and Urdu at Edwards College, then at Peshawar University, where he became a lecturer after receiving his Masters. During his time in college, Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Ali Sardar Jafri impressed him and became influences on his own work. Faraz was born in Kohat, Pakistan to Syed Muhammad Shah Barq. In an interview he recalled how his father once bought clothes for him and his brother on Eid. He didn't like the clothes meant for him, preferring the ones given to his elder brother. This lead him to write his first couplet:
Laye hain sab ke liye kapre sale se (He brought clothes for everybody from the sale)
Laye hain hamare liye kambal jail se (For me he brought a blanket from jail)
Faraz was an outspoken critic of Pakistan’s military dictatorship, saying, “My conscience will not forgive me if I remain a silent spectator of the sad happenings around us. The least I can do is to let the dictatorship know where it stands in the eyes of the concerned citizens whose fundamental rights have been usurped. I ... refuse to associate myself in any way with the regime ..."
Keywords/Tags: Ahmad Faraz, Pakistani, Urdu, Persian, translation, couplet, eager, traveler, love, mrburdu
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 4:58 AM UTC
The battle was imminent.
The forces were joined.
No longer was time standing idle.
Outnumber and ******
by 100 to 1,
the Spartans stood fervid and vital.
The Greeks were united,
though the Spartans alone
were the ones charged with their protection.
At Thermopylae pass,
300 men stood
together in imperfect perfection.
"Surrender your arms"
King Xerxes demanded,
"Surrender, and let the Persians betake them."
Leonidas replied "Molon Labe!" my foe,
"If you want them, then you come and take them."
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 8:45 AM UTC
Brother Iran
by Michael R. Burch
Brother Iran, I feel your pain.
I feel it as when the Turk fled Spain.
As the Jew fled, too, that constricting span,
I feel your pain, Brother Iran.
Brother Iran, I know you are noble!
I too fear Hiroshima and Chernobyl.
But though my heart shudders, I have a plan,
and I know you are noble, Brother Iran.
Brother Iran, I salute your Poets!
your Mathematicians!, all your great Wits!
O, come join the earth’s great Caravan.
We’ll include your Poets, Brother Iran.
Brother Iran, I love your Verse!
Come take my hand now, let’s rehearse
the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
For I love your Verse, Brother Iran.
Bother Iran, civilization’s Flower!
How high flew your towers in man’s early hours!
Let us build them yet higher, for that’s my plan,
civilization’s first flower, Brother Iran.
Published by MahMag (translated into Farsi by Mahnaz Badihian), Other Voices International, Thanal Online (India), Deviant Art, Portal Vapasin (Farsi). Keywords/Tags: Iran, Iranian, Farsi, Persia, Persian, brotherhood, culture, civilization, poetry, literature, poets, mathematicians, philosophers
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 3:06 AM UTC
Transliteration:
Kabul kab luti ye to na maaloom chal saka,
Magar kamobesh halchal to kabhi se thi.
Translation:
When Kabul was gutted it couldn't be known,
But the drift was more or less the same since long.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 5:04 AM UTC
Love from you, my darling,
In the darkest of days, I need it.
Love from you, my beautiful,
In the blackest of nights, I wish it.
Love from you, my inamorata,
In the loneliest evenings, I require it.
Love from you o my best friend.
Love from you, o my baby,
In the playful days, I enjoy it.
Love from you, my dilruba,
In my sorrowful time, I miss it.
Love from you, my humjoli,
In all my joyful time I cherish it.
Love from you, my humdum.
Love from you o my lover,
In the brightest days, I need it.
Love from you, my gorgeous,
In the whitest dreams, I desire it.
Love from you, my mehbooba,
In the busiest mornings, I yearn it.
Love from you, my Jaan-e-mann.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
Dil em tang shuda azi dunya awlay che kunum
Purson maikunum, ini aale now ra che kunum
Naona ika thur nako da chaye janum
Aftiden da chaah, maigin awlay che kunem
_________________________
Heart's feeling full of this life, what to do?
Asking hence, with the newbies, what to do?
Dip not fully the self, hey dear you shouldn't!
Drowing in the well de despair, crying what to do?
c. Teeri
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 11:52 PM UTC
Открытость твоего лица и твоих руки
И твой соглашающийся язык
И твой ароматный попутный ветер дыхания
От солнца твое питание
И от бога
И как красиво ты говоришь
برگشاده روی و دستانت
و بر زبان آری گویت،
و بر نفحات انفاس موافقت،
و از خورشیدت خورش
و از خدایت
و چه زیبا سخن می گویی ای مرد
و من می گویم
مرا ببالان
مرا فراخ کن
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 1:31 PM UTC
Forgotten
by Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh
O, witnesses of the night
Exile me
To the most distant point of the universe
In the complex area of the vacuum
Moment by moment
I think about my enjoyment
That night
The voice of the calligrapher's pen was heard
And I feigned sleep
I became tired
Time
Is my place to act
I have acknowledged my faith
I shall go to the cemetery
To dig a grave for myself
But,
The weather is cold
It's snowing
And umbrellas
Have put my burial ceremony off.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
She said to me:
“You asked me to dream new dreams.
My sweet love, you are that dream...
Waking up to you is that dream...
Holding you from the back while you brush ur teeth is that dream
Smiling at you, and you smiling back to me is that dream.
You ******* me like you mean it is that dream.
It is a dream to be in love with you; being loved by you is that dream.
You looking at me looking at you
through the windows of our souls
is the dream I never dared to dream.”
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 11:30 PM UTC
Oh! Woe to the poor captivated lover
Being trapped in love, but beloved gone
Oh! The moment I'm sitting as tulip alone
In my heart's blood, she is gone as wind
The voice of ax didn't come from Bistoon
Shireen is gone to Farhad's dream tonight
Oh! I will inform you of my painful alas
The day my enormous patience finally gone
Pity lover that flew your grapevine hair
With a hundred hopes come, gone unhappy
I am happy you abandoned all my rivals
Although, you left me as fistful of soil to wind
Mountains and deserts are mournful tonight
Lovers as Majnoon and Farhad gone forever
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 1:40 AM UTC
If you had only let us be,
just you & me...
This love...
We'd grow,
you know.
But God has plans
for seeds of love
unused.
Look at all the wildflowers
on this earth.
All the gardens
are born from
soulmate passion
& so "wasted" love
is fashioned
into lisianthus & persian roses...
& as they bloom..
under our noses...
My heart closes
for you my dear...
your naked ****
you never chose
God only knows
if we'll find happiness,
God only knows
God only knows.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 7:50 PM UTC
The Moving Finger writes;
and, having writ
Moves on:
nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to
cancel half a line
Nor all thy tears
wash out a word of it.
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 10:24 AM UTC
i'm taking a class on persian poetry
i don't speak persian-
my taste in poetry has always been
more bukowski than rumi
a little too western, a little too crude
*but then there's you
with poetry flowing
at the tips of your fingers
and the edges of your heart
you read poetry
as if it were the bible
making every word
sound holy and every
sentence more scripture
than art
and when you recite
it's like thunder
and ice
it's fire with
just enough passion
to burn for centuries*
you're the hafiz
to my plath
and i never quite understood
your language but
i loved it any way
and i tried to speak
it but my words were
always
too western, too crude
and yours
*yours like a burning candle
in the middle of winter
it's a small light
but enough to keep me warm
and the darker the night
the cooler the weather
the warmer the flame
that burns bright*
you were my ferdowsi
and khyyam
and i was still somewhere
between woolf and
dickinson
their worlds made sense
to me more than
persian passions
that i always wanted
could almost taste
but never swallow
but you feasted
i'm taking a class on persian poetry
i don't speak persian-
*but it brings me one step
closer
to you.*
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 3:45 PM UTC
Tales of riches in sequins
Like a lavish cloak of red
Swirling around to catch
The soft touch of raw skin
Each begins far away
A swarm of bees you can hear
But cannot see
And draws closer
Capturing your mind
And holding it
In an oscillating state
Between trance and attention
You see the rubies
Wish to steal them yourself
From the merchant
You wish to seek council
From the Grand-Visir
Thwart the wicked Sultan
And trick the Genius
The tales weave from one to another
They are a stream
Dispersing in a delta
But following each small stream
Meeting back at the source
In an unending circle
Of stories large or small
Stories of old men passing by
Of brother princes splitting land
Of merchants voyaging to trade
Of cunning daughters plotting
No corner of the world to far
No event not to be believed
No action too kind
No punishment too severe
No journey too long
No treasure too hidden
These tales are the life within human blood
The life that has no boundaries
And looks only for the sun
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
A frozen window,
Awaken all the last night,
Waiting for the Sun.
Dec 23, 2025
Dec 23, 2025 at 1:53 AM UTC
Persian, you live in my bones—
language of my mother, my first music.
I love you the way I love breath,
the way I love waking.
You make my poetry bloom,
color rushing into every line.
When I write in you, I am home.
When I leave you, I am homesick.
English, I respect you—
I've learned your weather, your rooms.
But Persian, you are the house itself,
the walls that hold my sleep.
I love you as much as my mother—
no, I love you because you are my mother,
the voice that named me,
the first poem I ever heard.
Jan 2
Jan 2, 2026 at 3:11 PM UTC