Wali Dakkani: Ghazals 1–6

1. To remember that friend at every moment

To remember that friend at every moment
is the daily litany of my sick heart.

I have no longing for the fountain of Kausar (the river of Paradise);
my lips thirst for the sherbet of the sight of you.

I do not know what the end will be;
my heart has fallen captive to the heart-taker.

What praise can one give? Without equal is every
letter of the heart, that treasury of secrets.

If you have become a seeker of freedom,
do not be bound by rosary or sacred thread.

The cushion of the rose became the dew's resting place:
see the rank of the wakeful eye!

O Wali, to be sacrificed for the beloved
is the aim of the eye that rains pearls.

2. That delicate one is a miracle of grace from head to foot

That delicate one is a miracle of grace from head to foot,
in beauty set apart from the rose-cheeked ones from head to foot.

O playful one, I looked closely and saw in your eyes
a manner of killing lovers from head to foot.

The world's connoisseurs of grace, whose thought is lofty,
seeing your stature said: this is coquetry from head to foot.

How could the world's heart-takers be your equal?
In beauty and in grace you are a miracle from head to foot.

Sometimes, O you with the breath of Jesus, say one word with kindness;
your voice gives me life from head to foot.

On me, Wali, the heart-taker is always kind,
although, to all appearance, a flirt from head to foot.

3. I will tell the ruby of Badakhshan the praise of your lip

I will tell the ruby of Badakhshan the praise of your lip;
I will tell the gazelles that your eyes are magic.

God gave you the kingship of the city of beauty;
this, in the land of Iran, I will tell to Solomon.

The praise of your stature, straight as the letter alif, O beloved,
I will go and tell the cypress of the garden in a sweet voice.

Do not be cruel to me, O Laila of the lovely ones;
I am Majnun; I will tell the wilderness of my grief for you.

I have seen you in a dream, O treasure of beauty;
I will go and tell this dream to Joseph of Canaan.

Day and night I burn in grief for you, O beloved;
this burning of yours I will tell to the blazing torch.

Not one dot on the page of your face is out of place;
I will call this face of yours a page of the Qur'an.

The fairy-faced one was sacrificed, burned like a stick of wood;
this strange thing I will tell to the shining moon.

Never be impatient with this pain, O Wali;
I burn in your pain; I will tell it to the cure.

4. I am your Majnun, I swear by the desert

I am your Majnun, I swear by the desert;
I am in search, I swear by longing.

You are coquetry from head to foot, O fairy-faced one;
I swear by you, from head to foot.

God gave you a beauty that has the upper hand;
I swear by your tall cypress stature.

Your tresses have made the world mad;
I swear by the madness of your tresses.

Give up being two-faced, do not meet with everyone;
I adjure you by your graceful stature.

Love of you has made the world a Majnun;
I swear by you, the envy of Laila.

Wali longs for your glance;
I swear by your dark-grey eye.

5. Seeing your lip, the water of life comes to mind

Seeing your lip, the water of life comes to mind;
seeing your face, Canaan comes to mind.

When I gaze my fill at your two eyes,
then a garden of narcissus comes to mind.

Seeing the length of your tresses,
a winter night comes to my mind.

Seeing the emerald colour of your down,
a springtime of hyacinths comes to mind.

From seeing the garden of your face,
the paradise of Rizwan (the keeper of Paradise) comes to my mind.

Whoever sees this face within your tresses,
the candle of the bedchamber comes to his mind.

Whoever sees my eyes weeping,
the clouds of spring come to his mind.

Whoever sees the whirling of my state,
a turning whirlpool comes to his mind.

Wali, whoever sees my madness,
mountain and wilderness come to his mind.

6. The homeless one whose throne became the wilderness of desolation

The homeless one whose throne became the wilderness of desolation:
upon his head the whirlwind became a sultan's crown.

Why should he not gain purity who, like a mirror,
from the modesty of his own essence has become water through and through?

He who has everlasting life in the lasting world:
when did this passing world ever display itself before him?

In my forlorn state I am not alone for a single moment;
grief for you has become my bosom friend in my breast.

O Wali, why should the sun not burn with envy night and day?
In the world that moon has become the envy of the moon of Canaan (Joseph).