#punjabi
.Ricaraḍa- rāja ḍākaṭara
Rājū Rājū
~~~
Mērā pi'āra🦋
Vi'akatīgata rūpa vica
mainū pi'āra karana la'ī
Vi'akatīgata taura
tē tuhāḍē
dila dē nāla hai
Āpaṇē mana nāla
mainū pi'āra karō
paṇī rūha nāla,
mainū pi'āra karō.
Sirapha mainū pi'āra karō
Bināṁ śarama dē pi'āra karō
Mainū pi'āra karanā pāpī
nahīṁ hai❤️🦋
Kī iha prēma kavitā śaramanāka hai?
Tuhāḍē nāla pi'āra karana nāla kō'ī savaraga nārāza nahīṁ hudā.
Maiṁ tuhānū bahuta pi'āra karadā hāṁ maiṁ tuhāḍē bagaira
mara jāndā hāṁ.
Mainū pi'āra karana di'ō
Rājū raajoo🦋
~
❤️By; Karijinbba🦋
Aug 3, 2021
Aug 3, 2021 at 10:04 PM UTC
Two Men's vibes
burning reach my Evez ice.
Two my diamond cave enter.
underneath my water fall.
Vibration's from beyond,
two distinctive voices won,
ever twirling on and on;
deep as violins his pitch fiddle
his electrical guitar's timbre
command starry skies above!
My tantrick abyss below.
I love thee two, lovers mine.
Punjabi voice lover divine.
I thirst for yours all's mine
Our stars wisely magnetized!
Both cosmically energized.
A state of knowing is ours.
dancing eons on two poles,
to twirl on and ages on,
the mornings and eves long.
I twirl on two magestic poles.
Long shiny studs hard as steal!
First pole's twirl echoes longer
Kemah lover elite's older
ancient memory hunger!
Implant blue pill chip slumber.
From willow tree, past pole lover
to renewed beloved my forever Kemah twin oaks
two glistening poles
I am art twirl divine
from past to present LOVE
Lives on and on!
~~~
By Karijinbba
All Rights Revised 7-29-21.
Jul 24, 2021
Jul 24, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC
The Condition of My Heart
by Munir Niazi
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
There's no need for anyone else to get excited:
The condition of my heart is not the condition of hers.
But were we to receive any sort of good news, Munir,
How spectacular compared to earth's mundane sunsets!
Mystery
by Munir Niazi
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
She was a mystery:
Her lips were parched ...
but her eyes were two unfathomable oceans.
I continued delaying ...
by Munir Niazi
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I continued delaying ...
the words I should speak
the promises I should keep
the one I should dial
despite her cruel denial
I continued delaying ...
the shoulder I must offer
the hand I must proffer
the untraveled lanes
we may not see again
I continued delaying ...
long strolls through the seasons
for my own selfish reasons
the remembrances of lovers
to erase thoughts of others
I continued delaying ...
to save someone dear
from eternities unclear
to make her aware
of our reality here
I continued delaying ...
Keywords/Tags: Munir Niazi, Urdu, Punjabi, translation, Pakistan, Lahore, love, love hurts, heart, heartbreak, condition, mystery, pashto, relationship, delay, delays, delaying, mrburdu
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 2:57 AM UTC
My Apologies, Sona
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
My apologies, Sona,
if traversing my verse's terrain
in these torrential rains
inconvenienced you.
The monsoons are unseasonal here.
My poems' pitfalls are sometimes sodden.
Water often overflows these ditches.
If you stumble and fall here, you run the risk
of spraining an ankle.
My apologies, however,
if you were inconvenienced
because my dismal verse lacks light,
or because my threshold's stones
interfered as you passed.
I have often cracked toenails against them!
As for the streetlamp at the intersection,
it remains unlit ... endlessly indecisive.
If you were inconvenienced,
you have my heartfelt apologies!
Come!
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Come, let us construct night
over the monumental edifice of silence.
Come, let us clothe ourselves in the winding sheets of darkness,
where we'll ignite our bodies' incandescent wax.
As the midnight dew dances its delicate ballet,
let us not disclose the slightest whispers of our breath!
Lost in night's mists,
let us lie immersed in love's fragrance,
absorbing the musky aromas of our bodies!
Let us rise like rustling spirits ...
Old Habits Die Hard
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The habit of breathing
is an odd tradition.
Why struggle so to keep on living?
The body shudders,
the eyes veil,
yet the feet somehow keep moving.
Why this journey, this restless, relentless flowing?
For how many weeks, months, years, centuries
shall we struggle to keep on living, keep on living?
Habits are such strange things, such hard things to break!
Inconclusive
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
A body lies on a white bed—
dead, abandoned,
a forsaken corpse they forgot to bury.
They concluded its death was not their concern.
I hope they return and recognize me,
then bury me so I can breathe.
Keywords/Tags: Gulzar, Urdu, Hindi, Punjabi, Triveni, translation, life, death, love, ghazal, couplet, mrburdu
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 6:18 AM UTC
aundi ae osdi yaad kise peer di tarah ...
pathraan nu cheerde kise teer di tarah
....
ae sach ae ke o ranjha na bn sakeya ,
par ohnu main chaaya ik sacchi heer di tarah !
-aadi
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
lagdae tu kitti hoyi karaamaat rabb di...
teri jayi surat duniya ch na labbdi...
aaunda ae nzaara ik vakhre jahaan da...
kinna sohna mukhda ae sacchi meri jaan da !
-aadi
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
je tu chddan vaali cheez hunda ni yaara
ve tenu kadon daa hi chdd jaana si
-aadi
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 1:59 PM UTC
sochdi si geetan ch tera naa paa davaan
par ik dar jeya aa gya
kitte tu badnaam na ** jave
jedhi tere chehre te aai ae saanu chaddke
kitte o muskaan na kho jave !
-aadi
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 1:50 PM UTC
mere sar te ishq chdh reya shaayad
shayari bnaun layi shabd je ni milde !
-aadi
Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
Ankhian tu digan hanju, dil di sada ae
Rab kadi kise nu pere din na wikhaye
Ankhian tu digan hanju, dil di sada ae
Rab kadi kise nu v phuka na sulaye
Digan hanju ankhian tu // gham dunia ch sadian tu
darr dil ch basean kyun par // nafrat sab tu wada masla kyun
Zaalim dunia, jaali zamana // nava dor par hakim purana
jetan da laban bahana // haran da na karan samna!
Ankhian tu digan hanju, dil di sada ae
maran tu pehla jeena, zindagi dua ay
Ankhian tu digan hanju, dil di sada ae
Rab kadi kise nu pere din na wikhaye
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
Mama pulls up to the mailbox
You get out of the car
She drives up to the house
You'll check the mail and walk
Aren't you scared?
Of walking down the street alone
After all these years
of being seen the way you're seen
With your turban
How do you feel safe?
In a country where people believe you don't belong
Now, I get it
We look around
everyone is white
And you're so polite
And loving to everyone you meet
But you know
They might turn around at any time
saying go back to your country
go back, go back to where?
Maybe that's what you meant
when you told me
You'll never be white
I looked at my skin
of course
But you meant
You'll never be one of them
And you're nice
And they're nice
But the minute someone asks where you're from
It's us and them
Again
Maybe that's what you meant
Will I let it slide
if someone says something about what's on your head
Or will I say
that's my father
What if it's not words,
but a piercing gaze
how will we protect ourselves then?
If it's a policeman
What am I going to say?
You
have to face it
And you wish the universe could spare your children
That's what you meant
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 12:52 AM UTC
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job.
It feels like he has only known his rickshaw.
The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems.
He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride.
Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers.
None remembers or even cares to know his name.
He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife.
He told me a Punjabi tale of partition...
*"We were really happy when it happened,
I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife,
But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan,
Just so much wicked was this demand of his,
Punjab was alight due to some people's doing,
We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar,
In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes,
My beautiful wife was still so young at that time,
She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed,
In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body,
After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."*
His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped,
Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi,
*"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her,
Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling,
Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab?
What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow?
I have known all & none advocates ****
To which parents could they born?
Must be the devil & the witch."*
By now his nose was red and his sobs audible.
He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"*
The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said,
"Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife,
She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra,
Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse,
Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?"
==============
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC