AND YOU WILL NEVER THIRST, HUNGER OR DESPAIR!
A Gift of Love to Muhammad Cédric Frémaux-Soormally, Kate Bates (Kaamilah Bint Qadar), Susan, Wendy, 'Family' & 'Friends'
And especially to Sarah Amanda, Jumaymah, Aïshah, Layana and all the Frémaux-Soormally and Parker Bates Family including their loving pets - and now to Drishtika, Kenji, and more 'family' and 'friends', including
Not forgetting Beautiful, Ageless, and Weightless Dorine Béchet, a devout spiritual Christian, one of a kind!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87T7notRbZ0
Muslim Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe - SUBMISSION TO GOD - WE ARE ALL MUSLIMS!
Poet, philosopher, novelist,
natural scientist, playwright.A devout
scholar who propagated the message of submission to GOD, the almighty
creator, through out his works.
Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan - Bandit Queen Vol. 51
Tomo Thompson (Randy Johnston) & his two kids victims of a "blind, psychotic, narcissistic CUNT OF A MOTHER..."!
Randy Johnston to Tomo Thompson
"My beloved son broke his leg today. He's three years old. Go on, ask me what I'm doin to alleviate his pain. Perhaps ya want some specifics on the incident.
When a father can't be there for his kids due to a blind, psychotic, narcissistic CUNT OF A MOTHER who uses MY children as not only sympathy tickets, but as pawns to SOMEHOW prove she's the better parent, (coz you kno, she was able to get a JP to sign off on a heap of situations not only blown outta proportion, but initiated by her fukken stupid actions to start with, which automatically makes those pages of false happenings able to be tended as 'cough cough' evidence, so OBVIOUSLY she's the good parent), you know the system is not only fukkkkkkd, but they know and smile whilst waving, 'hava nice day pal'. There's only one more 'worst case scenario' to unfold, my second and third worst have already unfolded for all to be damaged by, really makes ya wonder why you're bothering to survive.
Save your sympathy for some other cunt, the Lord knows JEVs always got her fukken hand out, ready to collect..."
MY RESPONSE, Friday 30 August 2019:
"Friday, 27 February 2015
https://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/.../i-saved...
I SAVED MYSELF THE WAR OF THE ROSES IN 1997, THANK GOD, BUT OUR SON PAID THE PRICE!
P.S. My French wife deliberately, and with the help of corrupt lawyers and Freemasonic Zionist Court Systems in both France and Britain, DAMAGED our son, embezzled our funds, and kicked both of us out of our home! I have been through this ordeal of an unfaithful and treacherous wife since 1983!
I do not see what to add to this, my friend!
And this has also damaged our grandchildren!
With Christic Love.
Basheer 😍
When a father can't be there for his kids due to a blind, psychotic, narcissistic CUNT OF A MOTHER who uses MY children as not only sympathy tickets, but as pawns to SOMEHOW prove she's the better parent, (coz you kno, she was able to get a JP to sign off on a heap of situations not only blown outta proportion, but initiated by her fukken stupid actions to start with, which automatically makes those pages of false happenings able to be tended as 'cough cough' evidence, so OBVIOUSLY she's the good parent), you know the system is not only fukkkkkkd, but they know and smile whilst waving, 'hava nice day pal'. There's only one more 'worst case scenario' to unfold, my second and third worst have already unfolded for all to be damaged by, really makes ya wonder why you're bothering to survive.
Save your sympathy for some other cunt, the Lord knows JEVs always got her fukken hand out, ready to collect..."
MY RESPONSE, Friday 30 August 2019:
"Friday, 27 February 2015
https://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/.../i-saved...
I SAVED MYSELF THE WAR OF THE ROSES IN 1997, THANK GOD, BUT OUR SON PAID THE PRICE!
P.S. My French wife deliberately, and with the help of corrupt lawyers and Freemasonic Zionist Court Systems in both France and Britain, DAMAGED our son, embezzled our funds, and kicked both of us out of our home! I have been through this ordeal of an unfaithful and treacherous wife since 1983!
I do not see what to add to this, my friend!
And this has also damaged our grandchildren!
With Christic Love.
Basheer 😍
Not forgetting Beautiful, Ageless, and Weightless Dorine Béchet, a devout spiritual Christian, one of a kind!
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Shaila Drishtika Bidoo
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQ1RZDFpQ8I
Lyrics by Jaan Nisar Akhtar and sung by Muhammad Rafi
Music by OP Nayyar from Film USTAD (1957)
Transliteration and translation by Jitender Siwach (slightly edited by BAFS)
Aaaaaaaaaa! Aaaaaaaaaa! Aaaaaaaaaa!
Jaan saké to jaan!
Imagine it if you can!
Téré mann mein chupkar baithé dekh téré Bahgwaan
In your heart God is seated silent, unseen, and watching
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Sadiyan biitiin lékin téra diip na bhunjé
Imagine it if you can!
Téré mann mein chupkar baithé dekh téré Bahgwaan
In your heart God is seated silent, unseen, and watching
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Sadiyan biitiin lékin téra diip na bhunjé
Seasons come and go, but Your Lamp never gets extinguished
Téri puunji mann ki daulat, sabsé unchi Maya
The treasure of your mind is your capital, the greatest wealth.
Téri puunji mann ki daulat, sabsé unchi Maya
The treasure of your mind is your capital, the greatest wealth.
Siita jaïsi shakti tuj mein. Siita jaïsi shakti tuj mein
Within you is Sita-like power. Within you is Sita-like power.
Parvati ki shaan, jaan sake to jaan!
The grandeur of Paarvati, imagine (realize) it if you can!
Téré mann mein chupkar baithé dekh téré Bhagwaan
In your heart God is seated silent, unseen, and watching
Within you is Sita-like power. Within you is Sita-like power.
Parvati ki shaan, jaan sake to jaan!
The grandeur of Paarvati, imagine (realize) it if you can!
Téré mann mein chupkar baithé dekh téré Bhagwaan
In your heart God is seated silent, unseen, and watching
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Koï na tééra, koï na mééra, saaré naaté jhuuté
No one is yours; no one is mine. All relationships are false
Tuuté jag ki aas to kya gham, aas na uski tuuté
Do not worry if worldly hope is shattered, HOPE in Him will never be broken (lost)!
Wo hi tééra Saccha Swami, maan aré Insaan!
(He Alone is your True Lord. Have Faith, Ô you humans!
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Ghar bhi chuuta, dar bhi chuuta, dhuundé raèn baséra
Expelled from your home, shown the door, seeking shelter for the night.
Imagine it if you can!
Koï na tééra, koï na mééra, saaré naaté jhuuté
No one is yours; no one is mine. All relationships are false
Tuuté jag ki aas to kya gham, aas na uski tuuté
Do not worry if worldly hope is shattered, HOPE in Him will never be broken (lost)!
Wo hi tééra Saccha Swami, maan aré Insaan!
(He Alone is your True Lord. Have Faith, Ô you humans!
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Ghar bhi chuuta, dar bhi chuuta, dhuundé raèn baséra
Expelled from your home, shown the door, seeking shelter for the night.
Gham ké gehré baadal chaé; chaaron aur andhéra.
Overwhelmed by deep dark clouds of sorrow from all four directions that have cast total darkness
Nirdhan ké dukh dard ko kyunkar jaan saké dhanwaan
How can the pain and suffering of the destitute ever be felt by the wealthy (oppressor)?
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
Overwhelmed by deep dark clouds of sorrow from all four directions that have cast total darkness
Nirdhan ké dukh dard ko kyunkar jaan saké dhanwaan
How can the pain and suffering of the destitute ever be felt by the wealthy (oppressor)?
Jaan saké to jaan
Imagine it if you can!
YE ZINDAGI KE MELE
MUHAMMAD RAFI - MELA 1948
Lyrics by SHAKEEL BADAYUNI & Music by NAUSHAD
Zikr (Allah Rakha Rahman) - National Taiwan University Chorus
46,040
It all started with my personal love for humanity - at great costs and sacrifice.
It was love understood, dreamed of, given and shared.
And it will always be LOVE as God, sincerity, loyalty, perseverance and patience were its only masters.
Basheer Ahmad Frémaux-Soormally
Ghyslaine ROC
1st of January 6015
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-J1hVGzWro&list=RD02X-idP23bHCg
Sufism - Shaykh Hamza Yusuf
André Rieu 2011 - And The Waltz Goes On composed by Anthony Hopkins
NICOLA MILLS - When compassion meets with talent
Published on 9 Apr 2016
Indicated to me by Br S.R.
ISLAM IS NOT MEANT AS A LAW ENFORCER, BUT TO COMPETE IN GOOD DEEDS, TO SPREAD PEACE AND FEED THE NEEDY! THE HOLY QUR'AAN IS A BOOK OF WISDOM.
Love from Uzbekistan
Батыр Закиров пришел в сей мир 26 апреля 1936 года. Дата же его смерти - 23 января 1985 г. Был узбекским советским певцом, писателем и поэтом. Прославился, как художник, а также актёр. Его помнят, как родоначальника эстрадного искусства своей восточной республики. Народным артистом в Узбекской ССР он стал еще в 1965 г. Был старшим братом певца Фарруха Закирова.
Батыр Закиров пришел в сей мир 26 апреля 1936 года. Дата же его смерти - 23 января 1985 г. Был узбекским советским певцом, писателем и поэтом. Прославился, как художник, а также актёр. Его помнят, как родоначальника эстрадного искусства своей восточной республики. Народным артистом в Узбекской ССР он стал еще в 1965 г. Был старшим братом певца Фарруха Закирова.
Батыр Закиров - Никто не виноват (Э.Салихов - Ю.Энтин).
Батыр Каримович Закиров родился 26 апреля 1936 года.
Обучался в консерватории и в театральном институте на режиссерском факультете.Концерты, выступления на радио и телевидении Закирова пользовались большим успехом у публики. Репертуар певца весьма разнообразен: оперные арии, узбекские народные песни, песни советских композиторов, зарубежные шлягеры в переводе или на языках оригинала. Его знаменитое "Арабское танго" до сих пор не забыто любителями ретро.
C именем Батыра Закирова неразрывно связано становление и развитие эстрадного искусства в Узбекистане. В 1972 г. им в Ташкенте был создан первый на Востоке и третий в Союзе Мюзик-холл, в котором Закиров выступал не только как певец, актер и художественный руководитель, но и вместе с известным московским режиссером Марком Захаровым был режиссером-постановщиком программы.
Также Б.Закиров был известен как талантливый художник и незаурядный литератор.
Батыр Закиров - Народный артист Узбекистана.
Умер певец 23 января 1985 года.
Maria Callas - Habanera - Carmen - Bizet - french subtitles
2013 - Basheer, Kevin and his dog Charlie.
Monday 1st of July 2019
Born KEVIN OWEN HODGES, Kevin was adopted when he was 4 years old. His brother Ralph was on drugs and he died at 28. Kevin's own son Brandon was born 16 weeks premature on Father's Day, and he died.
KEVIN James Owen LEGATE - Monday 1st July 2019
(Addressed to all my 4 grandchildren who know Kevin since their childhood)
With GAVIN on 13 May 2018
(Raphael, the Polish young man has passed away a year or so ago at the age of 36!)
GAVIN & LAYANA 13 May 2018
GAVIN, LAYANA & KENJI AT 12:33 PM
We brought Gavin some side breast chicken and chips as he had not yet eaten and was hungry.
With Polish KAROL- March 2019
Gavin - December 2018
Jason HARDY, December 2018.
(Charlie is now deceased)
Monday 1st of July 2019
Born KEVIN OWEN HODGES, Kevin was adopted when he was 4 years old. His brother Ralph was on drugs and he died at 28. Kevin's own son Brandon was born 16 weeks premature on Father's Day, and he died.
KEVIN James Owen LEGATE - Monday 1st July 2019
(Addressed to all my 4 grandchildren who know Kevin since their childhood)
With GAVIN on 13 May 2018
(Raphael, the Polish young man has passed away a year or so ago at the age of 36!)
GAVIN & LAYANA 13 May 2018
GAVIN, LAYANA & KENJI AT 12:33 PM
We brought Gavin some side breast chicken and chips as he had not yet eaten and was hungry.
With Polish KAROL- March 2019
Gavin - December 2018
Jason HARDY, December 2018.
(On American Mothers' Day - 10 May 2015 - we had an insurmountable disagreement about my meaning of love, but I'll leave this world without changing my views about both women and mothers! BAFS)
"Mawlana Jalaluddin Rumi Balkhi was a 13th century Muslim Sufi Saint.
After so many centuries his message of Love is being rediscovered and spread by people around the world.
Mawlana Jalaluddin Rumi Balkhi or as commonly known as Rumi has written a few books among them is his famous Masnavi in Persian language.
His main theme in his books are Love, Divine love, love for humanity and Nature.
In his love of Divine he has written many poems and couplets.
This Divine Love was instilled in his heart by his spiritual teacher Shams e Tabrizi who took Rumi as his only student throughout his life.
To this day Rumi's spiritual tradition continues known as Mevlavi Spiritual Order of Islamic Sufism ( similar to Naqshbandia, Qadriya, Chistia, Soharwardia spiritual orders), they are also known as whirling dervishes.
Rumi's message is of Love which people need the most in these days.
There is great wisdom in his poetry and his message of Love is for all."Youtube
Евгений Дятлов
и Николай Криворучко
Песня "Необыкновенные глаза" - музыка А Бабаева, слова К. Сейтлиева, перевод А.Кронгауза
Песня "Необыкновенные глаза" - музыка А Бабаева, слова К. Сейтлиева, перевод А.Кронгауза
Published on 31 Mar 2013
Ô bien-aimé !
Écoute, ô bien-aimé !Je suis la réalité du monde,
le centre et la circonférence,
J’en suis les parties et le tout.
Je suis la volonté établie entre le ciel et la terre,
Je n’ai crée en toi la perception
que pour être l’objet de Ma perception.
Si donc tu Me perçois, tu te perçois toi-même
mais tu ne saurais Me percevoir à travers toi.
C’est par Mon oeil que tu Me vois et que tu te vois,
ce n’est pas par ton oeil que tu peux Me concevoir.
Bien aimé,
tant de fois t’ai-Je appelé,
et tu ne M’as pas entendu !
Tant de fois Me suis-Je à toi montré,
et tu ne M’as pas vu !
Tant de fois Me suis-Je fait douces effluves,
et tu n’as pas senti,
nourriture savoureuse
et tu n’as pas goûté.
Pourquoi ne peux-tu M’atteindre
à travers les objets que tu palpes ?
Ou Me respirer à travers les senteurs ?
Pourquoi ne Me vois-tu pas ?
Pourquoi ne M’entends-tu pas ?
Pourquoi ? Pourquoi ? Pourquoi ?
Pour toi Mes délices surpassent
tous les autres délices,
et le plaisir que Je te procure
dépasse tous les autres plaisirs.
Pour toi Je suis préférable
à tous les autres biens.
Je suis
la Beauté
Je suis
la Grâce
Bien-aimé, aime-Moi….
(Ibn Arabi)
A Gift of Love by Dr Deepak Chopra & Friends
A Gift of Love by Dr Deepak Chopra & Friends
The Moods of Afghanistan’s RUMI *JALAAL UD DIIN MUHAMMAD BALKHI*
New translations by Farsi scholar Fereydoun Kia, edited by Dr Deepak Chopra
My Burning Heart
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
My heart is burning with love.
All can see this flame.
My heart is pulsing with passion
like waves on an ocean.
My friends have become strangers
and I'm surrounded by enemies.
But I'm free as the wind
no longer hurt by those who reproach me.
I'm at home wherever I am
and in the room of lovers
I can see with closed eyes
the beauty that dances.
Behind the veils
intoxicated with love
I too dance the rhythm
of this moving world.
I have lost my senses
in my world of lovers
The ruling hegemonic West has the right exterminationist concept about weapons of mass destruction (they would never hesitate to use against their unwanted humanity, especially against Muslims!), but they have the wrong concept about MENS' (REAL MEN's!) GODLY LOVE FOR WOMEN! And why too many women throughout the ages promise everything, but rarely deliver! (BAFS)
Бaтир Зокиров - Мухаббат
Looking at your face
Read by Jared Harris
From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it.
Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for.
Today I have found you
and those who laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did.
I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you
with a hundred eyes.
My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold.
I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine.
Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden.
You have breathed new life into me.
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow.
My soul is screaming in ecstasy.
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you.
Your effulgence
has lit a fire in my heart
and you have made radiant
for me
the earth and sky.
Mv arrow of love
has arrived at the target.
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer.
Lost in the Wilderness
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
Oh lovers!
Where are you going?
Who are you looking for?
Your Beloved is right here.
Sh e lives in your own neighborhood.
Her face is veiled.
She hides behind screens
calling for you
while you search and lose yourself
in the wilderness and the desert.
Cease looking for flowers!
There blooms a garden in your own home.
While you look for trinkets
the treasure house awaits you in your own being.
Th ere is no need for suffering.
God is here.
Lovers’ Passion
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
A lover knows only humility.
He has no choice.
He steals into your alley at night.
He has no choice.
He longs to kiss every lock of your hair.
Don't fret.
He has no choice.
In his frenzied love for you
he longs to break
the chains of his imprisonment.
He has no choice.
Батыр Закиров, Луиза Закирова Где же ты, счастье?
The Meaning of Love
Read by Goldie Hawn
Both light and shadow
are the dance of Love.
Love has no cause;
it is the astrolabe of God's secrets.
Lover and Loving are inseparable
and timeless.
Although I may try to describe Love
when I experience it I am speechless.
Although I may try to write about Love
I am rendered helpless;
my pen breaks and the paper slips away
at the ineffable place
where Lover, Loving and Loved are one.
Every moment is made glorious
by the light of Love.
My Beloved
Read by Chris Barron
Know that my beloved is hidden from everyone
Know that she is beyond the belief of all beliefs
Know that in my heart she is as clear as the moon
Know that she is the life in my body and in my soul
The Hunt
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
The Lover comes, the Lover comes!
Open the way for Him!
He's looking for a heart,
let's show Him one.
I scream,
"What you came to hunt is me!"
He says laughingly,
"I'm here not to hunt you but to save you
Precious Love
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
Oh God!
I have discovered love!
How marvellous!
How good!
How beautiful it is!
My body is warm
from the heat
of this love.
How secret!
How deep!
How obvious it is!
I offer my salutations
to the stars and the moon,
to all my brothers and all my sisters.
I offer my salutations
to the spirit of passion
that aroused and excited this universe
and all it contains.
I have fallen
unable to rise.
What kind of trap is this?
What chains have tied my hands and feet?
It is so strange
and so wonderful
this loving helplessness of mine.
Be silent
do not reveal the secret
of my precious love.
The Agony and Ecstasy of Divine Discontent
Read by Sonja Sohn
In the orchard and rose garden
I long to see your face.
In the taste of Sweetness
I long to kiss your lips.
In the shadows of passion
I long for your love.
Oh! Supreme Lover!
Let me leave aside my worries.
The flowers are blooming
with the exultation of your Spirit.
By Allah!
I long to escape the prison of my ego
and lose myself
in the mountains and the desert.
These sad and lonely people tire me.
I long to revel in the drunken frenzy of your love
and feel the strength of Rustam in my hands.
I'm sick of mortal kings.
I long to see your light.
with lamps in hand
The sheikhs and mullahs roam
the dark alleys of these towns
not finding what they seek.
You are the Essence of the Essence,
the intoxication of Love.
I long to sing your praises, but stand mute
with the agony of wishing in my heart.
Carmina Burana ~ O Fortuna | Carl Orff ~ André Rieu
Bittersweet
Read by Madonna
In my hallucination
I saw my Beloved's flower garden
In my vertigo
In my dizziness
In my drunken haze
whirling and dancing
like a spinning wheel
I saw myself
as the source of existence
I was there in the beginning
and I was the spirit of love
N ow I am sober
There is only the hangover
and the memory of love
And only the sorrow
I yearn for happiness
I ask for help
I want mercy
A n d my love says
Look at me and hear me
because I'm here just for that
I am your moon
and your moonlight too
I am your flower garden
and your water too
I have come all this way
eager for you
without shoes or shawl
I want you to laugh
to kill all your worries
to love you
to nourish you
Oh Sweet Bitterness!
I will soothe you and heal you
I will bring you roses
I too have been covered with thorns
Come to me
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
I'm your lover
Come to my side
I will open
the gate to your love
Come settle with me
Let us be neighbors
to the stars
You have been hiding so long
aimlessly drifting
in the sea of my love
Even so
you have always been
connected to me
Concealed, revealed
in the known
in the unmanifest
I am Life itself
You have been a prisoner
of a little pond
I am the ocean
and its turbulent flood
Come merge with me
leave this world of ignorance
Be with me
I will open
the gate to your love
The Agony of Lovers
Read by Laura Day
The agony of lovers
burns with the fire of passion.
Lovers leave traces of where they've been.
The wailing of broken hearts
is the doorway to God.
The Alchemy of Love
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
You come to us
from another world
From beyond the stars
and void of space.
Transcendent, Pure,
Of unimaginable beauty,
Bringing with you
the essence of love
You transform all
who are touched by you.
Mundane concerns,
troubles, and sorrows
dissolve in your presence,
Bringing joy
to ruler and ruled
To peasant and king
You bewilder us with your grace.
All evils transform into goodness.
You are the master alchemist.
You light the fire of love
in earth and sky
in heart and soul
of every being.
Through your loving existence and non existence merge.
All opposites unite.
All that is profane becomes sacred again.
Aroused Passion
Read by Dr Depak Chopra
Oh God
Let all lovers be content
Give them happy endings
Let their lives be celebrations
Let their hearts dance in the fire of your love
My sweetheart
You have aroused my passion
Your touch has filled me with desire
I am no longer separate from you
These are precious moments
I beseech you
Don't let me wait
Let me merge with you
The Awakening
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
In the early dawn of happiness
you gave me three kisses
so that I would wake up
to this moment of love.
I tried to remember in my heart
what I'd dreamt about
during the night
before I became aware
of this morning
of life.
I found my dreams
but the moon took me away.
It lifted me up to the firmament
and suspended me there.
I saw how my heart had fallen
on your path
singing a song.
Between my love and my heart
things were happening which
slowly, slowly
made me recall everything
You arouse me with your touch
although I can't see your hands.
You have kissed me with tenderness
although I haven't seen your lips.
You are hidden from me
But it is you who keeps me alive.
Perhaps the time will come
when you will tire of kisses.
I shall be happy
even for insults from you.
I only ask that you
keep some attention
on me
Behind the Scenes
Read by Blythe Danner
Is it your face
that adorns this garden?
Is it your fragrance
that intoxicates this garden?
Is it your spirit
that has made this brook
a river of wine?
Hundreds have looked for you
and died searching
in this garden
where you hide behind the scenes.
But this pain is not for those
who come as lovers.
You are easy to find here.
You are in the breeze
Caught in the Fire of Love
Read by Marteen Sheen
My heart is on fire!
In my madness
I roam the desert.
The flames of my passion
devour the wind and the sky.
My cries of longing
My wails of sorrow
are tormenting my soul.
You wait
patiently
looking into my intoxicated eyes.
You accept my passion
with the serenity of love.
You are the master of existence
one day I shall be
a Lover like you.
I Am and I Am Not
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
I'm drenched
in the flood
which has yet to come.
I'm tied up
in the prison
which has yet to exist.
Not having played
the game of chess
I'm already the checkmate.
Not having tasted
a single cup of your wine
I'm already drunk.
Not having entered
the battlefield
I'm already wounded and slain.
I no longer
know the difference
between image and reality.
Like the shadow
I am
and
I am not.
I am yours
Read by John Burke
Because the idol is your face, I have become an idolater.
Because the wine is from your cup, I have become a drunkard.
In the existence of your love, I have become nonexistent.
This non existence linked to you is better than all existence.
Do you love me?
Read by Demi Moore
A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?
The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.
I've disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.
I have forgotten all my learnings
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.
I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.
Desire
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
I desire you
more than food
or drink.
My body
my senses
my mind
hunger for your taste.
can sense your presence
in my heart
although you belong
to all the world.
I wait
with silent passion
for one gesture
one glance
from you.
Surrender
Read by Dr Deepak Chopra
In love, nothing is eternal but drinking your wine,
There is no reason for bringing my life to you,
other than losing it.
I said, "I just want to know you and then disappear."
Movie: MIRZA GHALIB (1954)
Music: Ghulam Mohammed
Lyrics: Mirza Asadullah Khan “Ghalib”
Maiden Release in Bombay at Minerva Talkies.
Roman Transliteration/English Translation of a few selected verses of Ghalib’s Ghazal:
Muhammad Rafi’s memorable Song: hai bas ke har ek un ke…
Hai bas ki har ek unke ishaare meN nishaaN aur,
EVERY GESTURE OF HERS ALLUDES TO SOMETHING ELSE,
EVERY GESTURE OF HERS ALLUDES TO SOMETHING ELSE,
karte haiN muhabbat, toh guzartaa hai gumaaN aur,
EVEN WHEN SHE LOVES, I SUSPECT SOMETHING ELSE!
yaa rab vo naa samjhe haiN naa samjhenge merii baat,
O LORD, SHE HASN’T UNDERSTOOD NOR WILL SHE UNDERSTAND MY WORDS,
yaa rab vo naa samjhe haiN naa samjhenge merii baat,
O LORD, SHE HASN’T UNDERSTOOD NOR WILL SHE UNDERSTAND MY WORDS,
de aur dil un ko jo naa de mujh ko zabaaN aur,
CHANGE HER HEART IF YOU WON’T CHANGE MY TONGUE TO SOMETHING ELSE!
de aur dil un ko, jo naa de mujh ko zabaaN aur...
CHANGE HER HEART IF YOU WON’T CHANGE MY TONGUE TO SOMETHING ELSE!
tum shahar meN ho toh hameN kyaa Gham jab uThenge,
DO I CARE IF YOU’RE IN TOWN, WHEN I GET UP…
DO I CARE IF YOU’RE IN TOWN, WHEN I GET UP…
tum shahar meN ho toh hameN kyaa Gham jab uThenge,
DO I CARE IF YOU’RE IN TOWN, WHEN I GET UP
DO I CARE IF YOU’RE IN TOWN, WHEN I GET UP
le aayenge baazaar se jaa kar dil-o-jaaN aur,
I’LL FETCH FROM THE BAZAAR ANOTHER MISTRESS!
le aayenge bazaar, se jaa kar dil-o-jaaN aur...
I’LL FETCH FROM THE BAZAAR ANOTHER MISTRESS!
haiN aur bhii duniyaa meN sukhan-var bahot acchhe,
THERE’RE OTHER ELOQUENT POETS TOO IN THE WORLD,
haiN aur bhii duniyaa meN sukhan,-var bahot acchhe,
THERE’RE OTHER ELOQUENT POETS TOO IN THE WORLD,
kehte haiN ke Ghalib kaa hai andaaz-e-bayaaN aur,
IT’S SAID THAT GHALIB’S EXPRESSIVE STYLE IS SOMETHING ELSE!
kehte haiN ke Ghalib kaa, hai andaaz-e-bayaaN aur,
IT’S SAID THAT GHALIB’S EXPRESSIVE STYLE IS SOMETHING ELSE!
haiN aur bhii duniyaa meN sukhan-var bahot acchhe,
THERE’RE OTHER ELOQUENT POETS TOO IN THE WORLD,
kehte haiN ke Ghalib kaa hai andaaz-e-bayaaN aur,
IT’S SAID THAT GHALIB’S EXPRESSIVE STYLE IS SOMETHING ELSE!
kehte haiN ke Ghalib kaa, hai andaaz-e-bayaaN aur.
IT’S SAID THAT GHALIB’S EXPRESSIVE STYLE IS SOMETHING ELSE!
TRANSLATION BY NASIR ALI.
Read more: http://nasir-eclectic.blogspot.com/2017/12/1010-rafis-romantic-songs-hai-bas-ke.html#ixzz52eYUbogv
DUST IN THE WIND
Б.ЗАКИРОВ НЕОБЫКНОВЕННЫЕ ГЛАЗА
You'd be surprised what you learn when you really study history...
3quarksdaily.com
Muslim Goethe: The Sufi of Weimar
"Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad. Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you."
3quarksdaily.com
Muslim Goethe: The Sufi of Weimar
"Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad. Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you."
Like · · Share · 153724 · 11 hours ago ·
Monday, January 06, 2014
Goethe: The Sufi of Weimar
by Shadab Zeest HashmiIt was in a small, black, hardbound volume of Iqbal’s Urdu verse, that I saw the name Goethe for the first time. Iqbal’s Baang e Dara had belonged to me since before I could read and it became an object of mystery, likely due to the manner in which it entered my psyche: in candlelight, and in my mother’s voice. Prone to studying shadows, I was terrified of power outages at night, so my mother lit me a candle and read Iqbals’ poems for children in Baang e Dara: the dialogue between a spider and a fly, a mountain and a squirrel and other adaptations of English poems, in her lucid yet slightly elfin voice. The pages were turned right to left but a non-reader sees a text of poetry much in the cubist’s way— shapes centered on the page, squares or long rectangles, with tightly woven letters inside and wide margins to roam free in.
Over the years, the binding slackened from wear only under the section of children’s poems. When I was older I perused the rest of the book and found the poems complex but I was drawn to the miraculous harmonies formed of Urdu’s polygenetic beauty; its Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Turkish diction fitting as if synaptically, only in this poet-philosopher’s hands, to create a unique musical-intellectual whole.
I also found, to my astonishment, Iqbal’s poems addressing the greats belonging to a variety of cultures: Rumi, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Goethe, Hafiz, Ghazali, Blake, Emerson and other influential thinkers and poets. Iqbal’s century was changing the map fast, making his reflections on the learning of the East and West ever urgent. While rejecting the title “Sir” from the Raj, he continued to honor philosophers such as his own mentor (at Government College, Lahore) Dr. Thomas Arnold in his poems. Among great western thinkers, Goethe held a special place for Iqbal: Our soul discovers itself when we come into contact with a great mind. It was not until I had realized the infinitude of Goethe's imagination that I discovered the narrow breadth of my own.
Time and again, Goethe’s name stood out when I approached Iqbal’s poetry— there were many reasons for this, but the most memorable one was a typewritten response from the celebrated German scholar Annemarie Schimmel to my letter about my interest in Sufi poetry. She had read my poems closely and her brief letter was full of light and love. I heard the cosmic yes whispered in it, deep enough to give me a measure of patience, knee-deep as I was in raising my children while struggling to find time to read.
Yes has a way of flowering in some unknown darkness and resurfacing just when it seems to have faded away. A fragment of the Persian poet Hafiz led me to Goethe’s West-östlicher Divan, or West-East Divan, a work with deep roots inGoethe’s knowledge of and love for Islam and Sufism. A modern English translation of Goethe by Martin Bidney reached me just when I needed it. Assembling ideas for a course I was teaching on transmutation of forms and primary metaphors across cultures, I wanted to hear the sound of the original German— my mother in law, a native German speaker, read some lines aloud as my son Yousuf read the English version; I heard Sufi wisdom borne by languages other than Urdu, my mother tongue.
Martin Bidney’s translation of Goethe’s Divan brings me “home,” which is neither a place nor a time but a yes. Thisrichly imaginative work layers classic mystic themes in twelve sections including Moghanni Nameh (The Book of the Singer), Ishq Nameh (The Book of Love), Hikmet Nameh (The Book of Wisdom), and Tekfir Nameh (The Book of Observations).
In his introduction, Bidney mentions that well-known lines of the West-East Divan come from the Qur’an, such as the following lines which are a variation of verse 142 of the second Surah, where, in Von Hammer’s version, archangel Gabriel tells the prophet, “Say: To God belongs the Orient, to God belongs the Occident; He leads on the right path whom He will.”
To God belongs the Orient,
To God belongs the Occident,
The Northern and the Southern lands
Resting, tranquil, in His hands.
(in "Talismans", poem 5)
Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad.”
Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you.
- See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2014/01/goethe-the-sufi-of-weimar.html#sthash.nnph6dqU.dpuf
Monday, January 06, 2014
Goethe: The Sufi of Weimar
by Shadab Zeest HashmiIt was in a small, black, hardbound volume of Iqbal’s Urdu verse, that I saw the name Goethe for the first time. Iqbal’s Baang e Dara had belonged to me since before I could read and it became an object of mystery, likely due to the manner in which it entered my psyche: in candlelight, and in my mother’s voice. Prone to studying shadows, I was terrified of power outages at night, so my mother lit me a candle and read Iqbals’ poems for children in Baang e Dara: the dialogue between a spider and a fly, a mountain and a squirrel and other adaptations of English poems, in her lucid yet slightly elfin voice. The pages were turned right to left but a non-reader sees a text of poetry much in the cubist’s way— shapes centered on the page, squares or long rectangles, with tightly woven letters inside and wide margins to roam free in.
Over the years, the binding slackened from wear only under the section of children’s poems. When I was older I perused the rest of the book and found the poems complex but I was drawn to the miraculous harmonies formed of Urdu’s polygenetic beauty; its Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Turkish diction fitting as if synaptically, only in this poet-philosopher’s hands, to create a unique musical-intellectual whole.
I also found, to my astonishment, Iqbal’s poems addressing the greats belonging to a variety of cultures: Rumi, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Goethe, Hafiz, Ghazali, Blake, Emerson and other influential thinkers and poets. Iqbal’s century was changing the map fast, making his reflections on the learning of the East and West ever urgent. While rejecting the title “Sir” from the Raj, he continued to honor philosophers such as his own mentor (at Government College, Lahore) Dr. Thomas Arnold in his poems. Among great western thinkers, Goethe held a special place for Iqbal: Our soul discovers itself when we come into contact with a great mind. It was not until I had realized the infinitude of Goethe's imagination that I discovered the narrow breadth of my own.
Time and again, Goethe’s name stood out when I approached Iqbal’s poetry— there were many reasons for this, but the most memorable one was a typewritten response from the celebrated German scholar Annemarie Schimmel to my letter about my interest in Sufi poetry. She had read my poems closely and her brief letter was full of light and love. I heard the cosmic yes whispered in it, deep enough to give me a measure of patience, knee-deep as I was in raising my children while struggling to find time to read.
Yes has a way of flowering in some unknown darkness and resurfacing just when it seems to have faded away. A fragment of the Persian poet Hafiz led me to Goethe’s West-östlicher Divan, or West-East Divan, a work with deep roots inGoethe’s knowledge of and love for Islam and Sufism. A modern English translation of Goethe by Martin Bidney reached me just when I needed it. Assembling ideas for a course I was teaching on transmutation of forms and primary metaphors across cultures, I wanted to hear the sound of the original German— my mother in law, a native German speaker, read some lines aloud as my son Yousuf read the English version; I heard Sufi wisdom borne by languages other than Urdu, my mother tongue.
Martin Bidney’s translation of Goethe’s Divan brings me “home,” which is neither a place nor a time but a yes. Thisrichly imaginative work layers classic mystic themes in twelve sections including Moghanni Nameh (The Book of the Singer), Ishq Nameh (The Book of Love), Hikmet Nameh (The Book of Wisdom), and Tekfir Nameh (The Book of Observations).
In his introduction, Bidney mentions that well-known lines of the West-East Divan come from the Qur’an, such as the following lines which are a variation of verse 142 of the second Surah, where, in Von Hammer’s version, archangel Gabriel tells the prophet, “Say: To God belongs the Orient, to God belongs the Occident; He leads on the right path whom He will.”
To God belongs the Orient,
To God belongs the Occident,
The Northern and the Southern lands
Resting, tranquil, in His hands.
(in "Talismans", poem 5)
Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad.”
Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you.
- See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2014/01/goethe-the-sufi-of-weimar.html#sthash.o86cJBvF.dpuf
L’aube de l’amour
C’est l’aube de l’amour, et il te faut encore escalader la montagne ;
ne t’effraie pas : tu n’es qu’au début de tes peines.
Dans la caravane du matin a résonné ce cri :
« Eveillez-vous, ô paresseux, nous partons, et vous dormez »
Cette terre stérile ne te donnera ni herbe, ni fruits
à quoi bon y semer les graines du désir, labourer et peiner ?
Le temps est plus précieux que ne l’est de Joseph la beauté ;
pourquoi le gaspiller, ô Mîr ? Car pour lui il n’est pas de retour.
ne t’effraie pas : tu n’es qu’au début de tes peines.
Dans la caravane du matin a résonné ce cri :
« Eveillez-vous, ô paresseux, nous partons, et vous dormez »
Cette terre stérile ne te donnera ni herbe, ni fruits
à quoi bon y semer les graines du désir, labourer et peiner ?
Le temps est plus précieux que ne l’est de Joseph la beauté ;
pourquoi le gaspiller, ô Mîr ? Car pour lui il n’est pas de retour.
Un soir, je me rendis dans la boutique des souffleurs de verre, et leur demandai :
« O vous qui fabriquez les coupes, auriez-vous par hasard un verre qui ait la forme d’un cœur ? »
Ils se mirent à rire :
« c’est en vain que tu cherches,
O Mîr, chaque coupe que tu vois, ronde ou ovale,
chaque verre a été un cœur que nous avons fait fondre dans le feu et soufflé en une coupe.
C’est là tout ce que tu vois ici : il n’y a pas de verre ».
« O vous qui fabriquez les coupes, auriez-vous par hasard un verre qui ait la forme d’un cœur ? »
Ils se mirent à rire :
« c’est en vain que tu cherches,
O Mîr, chaque coupe que tu vois, ronde ou ovale,
chaque verre a été un cœur que nous avons fait fondre dans le feu et soufflé en une coupe.
C’est là tout ce que tu vois ici : il n’y a pas de verre ».
Tu n’es qu’une bulle d’écume
dans ce fleuve battu par la tempête ;
une fois que tes yeux seront ouverts
le monde t’apparaitra un rêve.
dans ce fleuve battu par la tempête ;
une fois que tes yeux seront ouverts
le monde t’apparaitra un rêve.
Mohammad Tâqi MIR (extrait de son Diwan)
Le Maître de la poésie lyrique de langue urdu (1720-1808)
Le Maître de la poésie lyrique de langue urdu (1720-1808)
Breuvage d’Amour
Bismil’lah,
Le breuvage bu par les purs, c’est le vin cité dans le verset XLVII, 15 du Coran, qui exprime l’Amour divin résultant de la contemplation.
La Création divine provient de l’Amour : Il a créé, Il a aimé ; Il est donc l’amant et l’aimé, le demandeur et le demandé.
La Création divine provient de l’Amour : Il a créé, Il a aimé ; Il est donc l’amant et l’aimé, le demandeur et le demandé.
« Ils les aiment et Il l’aime ». (Coran V, 54)
Le vin n’est que l’image de cet amour, dont les noms et les attributs, signifient ce que Dieu infusa en leur âme de connaissance, de désir ardent de retour à Lui et d’amour. Les expressions telles que l’échanson n’est autre que la Source Unique de l’Amour, c’est-à-dire Dieu ; la taverne ou le cabaret ne sont autres que la Création de tout l’Univers.
L’interdiction du vin en Islam renforce et accentue la portée du symbole. Le musulman se préserve pour la véritable ivresse, et puisque s’enivrer au son des instruments et des chants est le fait de buveurs débauchés, le saint opère un retournement par la Vérité de la Générosité divine.
« En souvenir de notre Bien-Aimé nous avons bu un vin délicieux, dont bien avant la création de la vigne nous étions déjà enivrés. « Une coupe brillante comme l’astre de la nuit contient ce vin, qui, soleil étincelant, est porté à la ronde par un jeune échanson, beau comme le croissant. Oh ! combien d’étoiles resplendissantes s’offrent à nos regards, quand ce vin s’unit à l’eau ! « Sans le doux parfum que cette ambroisie exhale, nous n’eussions point été attirés vers elle, si elle n’eût brillé d’un aussi vif éclat, jamais notre imagination n’eût pu la concevoir ! » (Omar Ibn Farid)
« L’expression « Nous nous sommes enivrés » signifie que nous avons été enivrés en entendant : « Ne suis-je pas votre Seigneur ? » (VII, 172)
Avant la création de la vigne, c’est-à-dire avant l’existence ; car la vigne veut dire que ce monde possible et temporel, l’Omnipotence divine le fit sortir du néant. (Bourini)
Avant la création de la vigne, c’est-à-dire avant l’existence ; car la vigne veut dire que ce monde possible et temporel, l’Omnipotence divine le fit sortir du néant. (Bourini)
« L’expression « Nous avons bu » signifie que nous, qui marchons dans la voie de Dieu de toute notre âme et de toute notre volonté tendue, nous avons bu à la mémoire du Bien-Aimé. Ce Bien-Aimé est la Vérité (qu’elle soit exaltée) qui s’irradie sur Ses serviteurs, extérieurement, par la forme de toutes les choses, celles-ci étant la trace des beaux Noms de Celui qui d’une manière absolue « est Transcendant »
« La mémoire » (Dhikr), zikr, c’est le souvenir, après l’oubli et la distraction et après le voile de l’éloignement ; et ce mot peut signifier la citation avec la langue ou avec le cœur. C’est la répétition de « Son Nom » (qu’il soit exalté !), conformément à Sa Parole (Coran VI, 91) : « Dis : Allah ! Et laisse-les à leurs vains jeux ». Car s’occuper d’autre chose que Lui est un jeu vain, qui leurre les ignorants. »
« Nous nous sommes enivrés, c’est-à-dire que nous avons perdu connaissance de tout ce qui est autre que la Vérité. Nous sommes parvenus, par le fumet de cette subtile liqueur, à l’oubli même de notre oubli….
« La mémoire » (Dhikr), zikr, c’est le souvenir, après l’oubli et la distraction et après le voile de l’éloignement ; et ce mot peut signifier la citation avec la langue ou avec le cœur. C’est la répétition de « Son Nom » (qu’il soit exalté !), conformément à Sa Parole (Coran VI, 91) : « Dis : Allah ! Et laisse-les à leurs vains jeux ». Car s’occuper d’autre chose que Lui est un jeu vain, qui leurre les ignorants. »
« Nous nous sommes enivrés, c’est-à-dire que nous avons perdu connaissance de tout ce qui est autre que la Vérité. Nous sommes parvenus, par le fumet de cette subtile liqueur, à l’oubli même de notre oubli….
«… Le soleil de « Il les aime » se reflète dans la lune de « ils L’aiment » et c’est toujours la même lumière, la lumière de l’une étant de même nature que celle de l’autre. Et c’est encore, ce vin, la lumière qui brille en tout lieu, et c’est encore le vin de l’existence véritable et l’appel véridique. Toute chose a bu de ce vin et en elle apparaît l’ombre et ce qui donne l’ombre. Il est l’amour qui fait germer toutes les graines et il est le vin qui enivre l’esprit, et il est l’existence qui fait déborder toutes les générosités. Il est l’appel de « kun fa yakûn » (Coran III, 47). « Sois, et cela est », d’où sort tout mouvement et toute stabilité. Il est la substance qui maintient toutes les substances. (Nabolosi)
On aura compris que l’expression « Vin » n’a d’autre signification que l’Amour Divin. Amour de Dieu pour Lui-Même et Amour de Dieu pour les hommes, et des hommes pour Dieu, cause et fin de l’Univers. Amour générateur du monde et Amour des âmes. Amour inséparable de la connaissance (Mahabba et Ma’rifa) qui est d’autant plus grand que la connaissance est parfaite. De même que la Lumière est une, Amant, Aimé et Amour ne sont qu’Un, et c’est l’aboutissement et la réalisation de : « Lâ ilâha illa-Lhâh« (pas de dieu, que Dieu), profession de foi islamique.
Le chant de l’illumination
Les voiles tombèrent
Lorsque mon Bien-Aimé apparut.
O vous qui en êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision
C’est celui de l’Eveil !
Lorsque mon Bien-Aimé apparut.
O vous qui en êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision
C’est celui de l’Eveil !
Quiconque désire prendre part
A notre secret caché
Qu’il s’approche et qu’il apprenne.
Des sciences lui apparaîtront,
Quel excellent breuvage !
L’échanson y appelle :
O vous qui en êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision
C’est celui de l’Eveil !
A notre secret caché
Qu’il s’approche et qu’il apprenne.
Des sciences lui apparaîtront,
Quel excellent breuvage !
L’échanson y appelle :
O vous qui en êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision
C’est celui de l’Eveil !
C’est par ce vin subtil que ceux
Doués de discernement prirent conscience,
Cette boisson à laquelle ils ont goûté !
Qui la détient en a rempli les coupes,
De cette boisson antique et savoureuse
Qui plonge l’amoureux dans le ravissement.
O vous qui En êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision,
C’est celui de l’Eveil !
Doués de discernement prirent conscience,
Cette boisson à laquelle ils ont goûté !
Qui la détient en a rempli les coupes,
De cette boisson antique et savoureuse
Qui plonge l’amoureux dans le ravissement.
O vous qui En êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision,
C’est celui de l’Eveil !
Le Maître de ce Vin a versé à la ronde
Parmi le Peuple de l’ivresse ;
Et les voiles s’en sont trouvés déchirés.
Mais celui qui est voilé
Que pourrai-il en comprendre ?
Le malheureux, que de peines il m’a données
Ce qu’il en est, il ne sait pas !
O vous qui En êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision
C’est celui de l’Eveil.(extrait Diwan du Cheikh al-Alawi)
Parmi le Peuple de l’ivresse ;
Et les voiles s’en sont trouvés déchirés.
Mais celui qui est voilé
Que pourrai-il en comprendre ?
Le malheureux, que de peines il m’a données
Ce qu’il en est, il ne sait pas !
O vous qui En êtes les amoureux,
Ce moment-ci, c’est celui de la Vision
C’est celui de l’Eveil.(extrait Diwan du Cheikh al-Alawi)
Nectar licite
Louable est mon ivresse, licite est le Nectar
Dont la Vigne et son Fruit n’ont pas eu de part.
A la Coupe divine où je portai mes lèvres,
L’unique goutte bue, en mon âme soulève
Une extase dont le feu ne s’éteindre jamais,
Pour moi comme pour tous, qui de ce Vin boiraient.
Dont la Vigne et son Fruit n’ont pas eu de part.
A la Coupe divine où je portai mes lèvres,
L’unique goutte bue, en mon âme soulève
Une extase dont le feu ne s’éteindre jamais,
Pour moi comme pour tous, qui de ce Vin boiraient.
Que dans ta tombe encore sa Flamme t’éblouisse ;
Que cette Ivresse encore te guide et t’ensevelisse,
Et lorsque de l’Archange l’Appel dominateur
Rassembler les Mondes aux pieds du Créateur,
L’Honneur d’avoir pu boire à la Coupe Sublime
T’assurera sans fin la Clémence Divine.
Que cette Ivresse encore te guide et t’ensevelisse,
Et lorsque de l’Archange l’Appel dominateur
Rassembler les Mondes aux pieds du Créateur,
L’Honneur d’avoir pu boire à la Coupe Sublime
T’assurera sans fin la Clémence Divine.
Les Habitants des Mondes sont tous d’amour grisés ;
D’un Amour ignorant d’où leur vient leur Ivresse,
N’ayant reçu de lui que la Coupe traîtresse
De l’Echanson sans Nom qui leur demeure voilé.
D’un Amour ignorant d’où leur vient leur Ivresse,
N’ayant reçu de lui que la Coupe traîtresse
De l’Echanson sans Nom qui leur demeure voilé.
« J’étais un Trésor caché », nous dit l’Astre qui monte,
révélant le Mystère de l’Amour en ce Monde ;
et dans ma Coupe emplie par cette Vérité,
je puise un Vin précieux dont j’aime à me griser.
révélant le Mystère de l’Amour en ce Monde ;
et dans ma Coupe emplie par cette Vérité,
je puise un Vin précieux dont j’aime à me griser.
Bois, bois donc de ce Vin, pénètre son mystère ;
Par lui deviens illustre, et comme lui Lumière.
Par lui deviens illustre, et comme lui Lumière.
La Réalité « Une », si ce n’était l’Amour,
D’où nous viendrait la flamme alimentant le four ?
D’où nous viendrait le feu pour cuire le pain du jour ?
D’où nous viendrait la flamme alimentant le four ?
D’où nous viendrait le feu pour cuire le pain du jour ?
L’Amour ! Lorsqu’il atteint le cœur d’un amoureux
Fait que la nuit obscure pour lui devient clarté,
Quand s’avance vers lui la douce Bien-Aimée
Et que ses yeux près d’elle voient se pencher les Cieux.
Fait que la nuit obscure pour lui devient clarté,
Quand s’avance vers lui la douce Bien-Aimée
Et que ses yeux près d’elle voient se pencher les Cieux.
Celui qui du Seigneur demeure éloigné,
De son malheur ignore toute l’immensité ;
Cette séparation, par décret redoutable,
Augmentant l’ignorance de cet être égaré,
Ne lui laisse en pâture que ses vœux misérables.
De son malheur ignore toute l’immensité ;
Cette séparation, par décret redoutable,
Augmentant l’ignorance de cet être égaré,
Ne lui laisse en pâture que ses vœux misérables.
Si tu œuvres pour Ton Seigneur
Ah ! Ne crains rien, O travailleur !
Ton « Patron » est un Bon payeur,
Avec le prix de ta journée
Tu recevras l’Eternité !(Abdel Qader Al-Jilanî)
Ah ! Ne crains rien, O travailleur !
Ton « Patron » est un Bon payeur,
Avec le prix de ta journée
Tu recevras l’Eternité !(Abdel Qader Al-Jilanî)
Le Trésor de tous les noms
La vague, la bulle, l’eau et la mer,
Ne sont qu’une même chose à nos yeux.
Nous sommes l’eau, la bulle,la vague,
Seule la mer connaît notre réalité.
Vois, grâce à la certitude, qu’ils sont identiques
la goutte, le ruisseau, le torrent, la mer.
Nous sommes le Trésor de tous les Noms,
Nous sommes la Lumière de toutes les choses.
Immergés dans l’Océan, nous cherchons de l’eau,
Alors que nous sommes la goutte et la vague, le ruisseau et la mer.
Nous sommes la Lumière de toutes les choses.
Immergés dans l’Océan, nous cherchons de l’eau,
Alors que nous sommes la goutte et la vague, le ruisseau et la mer.
L’eau et le verre reflètent notre réalité et notre forme,
Quel est celui qui possède le secret de cette coupe et de ce vin ?
Nous sommes issus de la mer et la mer nous reflète,
La vague que nous sommes est notre propre voile.
Quel est celui qui possède le secret de cette coupe et de ce vin ?
Nous sommes issus de la mer et la mer nous reflète,
La vague que nous sommes est notre propre voile.
L’eau est notre source et notre miroir,
Point de dualité entre nous et la mer ;
Le monde, d’un bout à l’autre, n’est qu’un mirage,
Mais regarde bien, ce mirage n’est autre que nous.
Point de dualité entre nous et la mer ;
Le monde, d’un bout à l’autre, n’est qu’un mirage,
Mais regarde bien, ce mirage n’est autre que nous.
Sois attentif et regarde par mon œil,
Et tu verras notre réalité identique à la Réalité.
Dans tous les miroirs il n’y a qu’un seul Reflet,
Contemple ce Reflet et chasse le doute.
Regarde la goutte, le ruisseau, la vague,
Cherche ensuite la mer et reconnais ton identité dans toute eau.
Fais-toi une coupe faite de vin et remplie de vin,
Oui, l’eau et le verre d’eau sont identiques.
Et tu verras notre réalité identique à la Réalité.
Dans tous les miroirs il n’y a qu’un seul Reflet,
Contemple ce Reflet et chasse le doute.
Regarde la goutte, le ruisseau, la vague,
Cherche ensuite la mer et reconnais ton identité dans toute eau.
Fais-toi une coupe faite de vin et remplie de vin,
Oui, l’eau et le verre d’eau sont identiques.
Je t’expose le secret de l’Unicité,
Un seul Être et des reflets infinis.
Un seul Être et des reflets infinis.
(Ne’matollâh Valî, Extrait de Lieux d’Islam, cultes et cultures de l’Afrique à Java – Dirigé par Mohammad Ali Amir-Moezzi)
L’argile d’Adam
La nuit dernière,
j’ai vu les anges frapper
à la porte du cabaret,
D’Adam, l’argile ils pétrissaient
Des coupes, ils en façonnaient
Ceux qui résident au-delà du voile sacré,
les purs de l’univers angélique,
M’ont tenu compagnie, moi, le mendiant des rues…
Pour boire le vin de l’ivresse !(Hâfez)
j’ai vu les anges frapper
à la porte du cabaret,
D’Adam, l’argile ils pétrissaient
Des coupes, ils en façonnaient
Ceux qui résident au-delà du voile sacré,
les purs de l’univers angélique,
M’ont tenu compagnie, moi, le mendiant des rues…
Pour boire le vin de l’ivresse !(Hâfez)
Attitude vis-à-vis des animaux
Photo l’internaute de Sylvie Auvray
Dès le VIIème siècle, l’islam a fixé des règles précises quant à notre attitude vis-à-vis des animaux.
De la façon de traiter les animaux et de son incidence
Il importe de bien traiter les animaux sur la recommandation et à la manière du Prophète qui était tout de compassion et de miséricorde à leur égard.
Alors que Aisha (que Dieu l’agrée) fit tourner un peu durement un chameau indocile, l’Envoyé de Dieu lui rétorqua : « Il t’appartient de traiter les animaux avec douceur . “(muslim)
Quant à Ibn Mas’ud, il rapporte : « Nous étions en voyage avec le Messager de Dieu (saws)/ Il s’en alla faire ses besoins. Nous vîmes alors un oiseau avec ses deux petits. Nous prîmes les deux oisillons et leur mère se mit à voler au-dessus de nos têtes. A ce moment arriva le Prophète (saws) qui dit : « Qui a fait de la peine à cet oiseau en lui prenant ses petits ? Allez, rendez-lui ses enfants ! » ( Nawawî ).
Quant à Ibn Mas’ud, il rapporte : « Nous étions en voyage avec le Messager de Dieu (saws)/ Il s’en alla faire ses besoins. Nous vîmes alors un oiseau avec ses deux petits. Nous prîmes les deux oisillons et leur mère se mit à voler au-dessus de nos têtes. A ce moment arriva le Prophète (saws) qui dit : « Qui a fait de la peine à cet oiseau en lui prenant ses petits ? Allez, rendez-lui ses enfants ! » ( Nawawî ).
A la question : « Serions-nous récompensés pour les animaux ? posée par ses compagnons, l’Envoyé de Dieu (saws) répondit :« Pour le bien fait à tout être vivant il y aura une récompense » (rapporté par al-Bukhârî et Muslim).
Il dit, par ailleurs (El Bukhârî 41-1) : « Chaque fois qu’un musulman plante un arbre ou sème une graine, il aura droit à une récompense pour tout ce qu’un oiseau, un homme ou un quadrupède mangera (de ce qui en sortira) »
Et comme on interrogeait le Très Saint Envoyé au sujet des ânes, il répondit : « Il n’y a pas eu de révélation spéciale à leur égard ; toutefois, dans leur sens général, ces seuls versets leur sont applicables : « Quiconque aura fait le bien du poids d’un atome le verra. Quiconque aura fait le mal du poids d’un atome le verra. » (coran 99, 7-8) rapporté par El Bukhârî, 42-12.)
Et c’est bien dans cet esprit, que, selon Aboû Horeïra, l’Envoyé de Dieu (saws) a dit : « Le cheval, pour tel homme, est une récompense ; pour tel autre, c’est une protection, et pour un troisième, c’est un fardeau.
L’homme pour qui le cheval est une récompense est celui qui le met dans la voie de Dieu, qui allonge la corde à laquelle il l’attache dans un pré, ou dans un jardin. Tout ce que l’animal atteint dans (la surface délimitée par) cette corde (en fait d’herbe) du pré ou du jardin est compté comme bonne œuvre pour son propriétaire. Si la corde vient à se rompre et que l’animal gambade durant une ou deux courses, les traces de ses pas et ses crottins seront comptés comme bonnes œuvres à son propriétaire ; Si ce cheval passant près d’un ruisseau y boit, même alors qu’on n’a pas voulu le laisser s’y abreuver, cela constitue encore de bonnes œuvres à l’actif de son propriétaire. Le cheval est donc à cause de cela une récompense.
L’homme qui affecte son cheval à son usage personnel, s’abstenant de tout ce qui est illicite et qui n’oublie pas ses devoirs religieux en craignant Dieu, en payant la Zekât et en ne surmenant pas l’animal, trouvera dans son cheval une protection.
L’homme qui garde un cheval par vanité, ostentation, et encore pour nuire aux musulmans, n’aura là qu’un fardeau (dans l’Autre monde). »
Il a dit également : « Lorsque vous voyagez dans une contrée verdoyante, donnez à votre chameau la part qui lui revient de la terre. Et lorsque vous voyagez dans une contrée sèche, pressez-vous afin de préserver les capacités de votre monture » (rapporté par Muslim, n° 1926, at-Tirmidhî, n° 2858, Abû Dâoûd, n° 2569).
Et encore : « Ne prenez pas le dos de vos montures comme des chaires. Dieu ne vous a assujetti ces montures que pour qu’elle vous transportent jusqu’à là où vous ne pourriez parvenir que difficilement. Il a fait pour vous la terre. Debout sur la terre réglez vos affaires« (rapporté par Abû Dâoûd, n° 2567).
Une autre fois, alors que le Prophète (saws) se rendait dans un verger où blatérait un chameau et après lui avoir passé la main sur sa bosse, il fit venir le propriétaire du chameau et lui dit : « N’as-tu pas crainte de Dieu au sujet de ce chameau dont Il t’a rendu propriétaire ? Ce chameau se plaint de toi que tu le gardes affamé et lui donnes constamment du travail« (rapporté par Abû Dâoûd, n° 2549).
Et passant devant un chameau extrêmement maigre, il dit : « Craignez Dieu à propos de ces animaux muets. Montez-les de façon convenable et mangez-les de façon convenable » (rapporté par Abû Dâoûd, n° 2548).
Et passant devant un chameau extrêmement maigre, il dit : « Craignez Dieu à propos de ces animaux muets. Montez-les de façon convenable et mangez-les de façon convenable » (rapporté par Abû Dâoûd, n° 2548).
Etre bon et généreux envers la nature est le reflet de la Miséricorde divine qui s’étend à toute la création . Notre comportement et nos réactions révèlent notre vraie nature.
Le Prophète (saws) raconte qu’un homme ressentant une grande soif, trouva un puits et y descendit pour se désaltérer. A sa sortie du puits se présenta un chien haletant et léchant la terre humide tellement il avait soif. L’homme se dit : « Ce chien souffre de la soif autant que j’en souffrais moi-même. Il redescendit dans le puits, remplit d’eau sa chaussure, la tint avec ses dents et remonta. Il en abreuva le chien : Dieu loua son acte et lui pardonna ses péchés« . (Rapporté par Al-Bukhari et mouslim).
A l’inverse, il raconte qu’une femme dut endurer le malheur de l’au-delà pour avoir martyrisé une chatte : l’ayant enfermée, elle mourut de faim. Que ne l’avait-elle laissée aller librement pour qu’elle se nourrisse de petits insectes ! (rapporté par al-Bukhârî, 42-9, 3).
Un autre hadith n’énonce-t-il pas : « Celui qui est dépourvu de bonté est dépourvu du bien . »(muslim) ?, parole que l’on peut également illustrer par l’exemple de El Bukhârî qui se rendit chez un homme pour y recueillir un hadith. C’est alors qu’il vit l’homme en train de courser une bête. L’homme attira l’animal en lui tendant la main et put ainsi l’attraper. Après l’avoir rejoint, El Bukhârî lui demanda ce qu’il lui avait donné à manger et l’homme de rétorquer : »Rien, ce n’était qu’une ruse pour l’attraper.. ». L’Imam lui répondit : »Comment pourrais je prendre un hadith de toi alors que tu mens aux animaux. » ……
Ne tuer un animal qu’en cas de nécessité :
Tuer un animal pour le plaisir est prohibé ; c’est ainsi que Le Prophète a interdit d’organiser des combats entre animaux (voir at-Tirmidhî, n° 1708, Abû Dâoûd, n° 2562), ainsi que de s’entraîner au tir en les prenant pour cible. (rapporté par al-Bukhârî et Muslim et Nawawî n° 1599).
- A la nécessité de se nourrir et de nourrir les nécessiteux
Selon un hadith : « Un moineau tué sans raison se plaindra avec véhémence auprès de Dieu , en criant : O mon Seigneur ! Tel homme m’a tué pour rien ; il m’a tué sans raison valable . » Selon un autre :
« Celui qui tue un moineau ou un animal plus gros sans son droit devra rendre des comptes à Dieu le jour du jugement. – Et quel est son droit ? demanda-t-on. – C’est qu’il l’abatte et en consomme la chair, et non qu’il en coupe la tête et la jette » (rapporté par an-Nassaï, n° 4349, 4445).
Même en temps de conflit, voilà ce que disait le premier successeur du Prophète :
« ….Ne détruisez pas les palmiers, ne brûlez pas les habitations ni les champs de blé, ne coupez jamais les arbres fruitiers et ne tuez le bétail que lorsque vous serez contraints de le manger… »
- A la nécessité de se préserver de la nuisance et du danger
« Cinq animaux sont nuisibles, et peuvent être tués hors du territoire sacré (al-haram) [autour de la Mecque] et à l’intérieur de ce territoire : le corbeau, l’oiseau de proie h’idâ’a, le scorpion, les carnassiers dangereux. » (El Bukhari, 28-7, 1) De ce hadith, la règle générale qui en a été déduite par les savants est la permission de tuer tout animal qui présente une nuisance ou un danger imminent. (voir Sharh Muslim par an-Nawawî)….mais sans exagération ainsi que le suggère ce hadith : « Une fourmi ayant piqué l’un des prophètes, celui-ci ordonna de brûler le village des fourmis. alors Dieu lui révéla : « Un fourmi t’a piqué et tu as brûlé une communauté parmi celles qui louent Dieu » ! (El Bukhari, 56-153)
- A l’obligation de ne pas faire souffrir l’animal
Pour se faire, la mise à mort doit être la plus digne possible :
- Il est interdit de tuer par le feu. (voir Abû Dâoûd, n° 2675 et Nawawî n° 1607).
- On ne doit pas stresser l’animal . On raconte qu’un jour, quelqu’un aiguisait son couteau devant une bête qu’il avait préalablement immobilisée à terre, le Prophète (saws) lui dit : « Tu veux donc la faire mourir deux fois ? Pourquoi n’as-tu pas aiguisé ton couteau avant de l’immobiliser ? » (Abû Dâoûd n° 1075).
- L’exécution doit être accomplie rapidement. Quand il s’agit, par exemple, d’animaux qui doivent être égorgés, l’incision pratiquée sur les veines jugulaires laissant intactes toutes les autres veines du cou, doit être effectuée d’un seul mouvement, en une seule fois. Contrairement à une idée très répandue, c’est la façon qui fait le moins souffrir l’animal et qui procure la viande la plus saine. (1)
Wallâhu A’lam
_____________
(1) Une expérience menée en Allemagne, à l’université d’Hanovre, démontre – après implantation d’un électroencéphalogramme et d’un électrocardiogramme sur deux animaux- que l’animal abattu après assommage, souffre plus que celui abattu par incision .
« Les résultats en ont surpris plus d’un (…). C’est l’animal abattu par la profonde incision qui souffre le moins. Trois secondes après l’incision, l’électroencéphalogramme montre en effet un état de profonde inconscience (qui est provoquée par la faible irrigation sanguine du cerveau, due à l’hémorragie). Six secondes après, l’électroencéphalogramme est plat (et il n’y a donc plus de douleur ressentie par l’animal). Pendant le même temps, le cœur continue à battre, et le corps de l’animal se tend vigoureusement (un réflexe dû au système nerveux), ce qui expulse le sang de façon maximale hors du corps, pour une viande plus saine » (réf : http://www.maison-islam.com)
_____________
(1) Une expérience menée en Allemagne, à l’université d’Hanovre, démontre – après implantation d’un électroencéphalogramme et d’un électrocardiogramme sur deux animaux- que l’animal abattu après assommage, souffre plus que celui abattu par incision .
« Les résultats en ont surpris plus d’un (…). C’est l’animal abattu par la profonde incision qui souffre le moins. Trois secondes après l’incision, l’électroencéphalogramme montre en effet un état de profonde inconscience (qui est provoquée par la faible irrigation sanguine du cerveau, due à l’hémorragie). Six secondes après, l’électroencéphalogramme est plat (et il n’y a donc plus de douleur ressentie par l’animal). Pendant le même temps, le cœur continue à battre, et le corps de l’animal se tend vigoureusement (un réflexe dû au système nerveux), ce qui expulse le sang de façon maximale hors du corps, pour une viande plus saine » (réf : http://www.maison-islam.com)
Poèmes
Au fil des jours et de mes envies ,
je viendrai y déposer mes poèmes ou écrits poétiques
et ceux qui me touchent dans le moment présent !
Un clic et vous lierez: Mes poèmes, haïkus et des vidéos
Cet hiver fut long et rude, alors ce 1er mai 2013, sera-t-il là près de la fenêtre ?
Premier mai de Narcisse SellierJ'eus voulu ce matin t'apporter du muguet,
Ne fut-ce qu'un seul brin, une seule clochette.
Mais Avril fut si froid, son soleil si discret,
Qu'aujourd'hui le muguet est absent de la fête !
LA POESIE est un jeu de langage, réel ou imaginaire ...
La poésie est dans ce qui n'est pas.
Dans ce qui nous manque.
Dans ce que nous voudrions qui fût.
Elle est en nous
à cause de ce que nous ne sommes pas.
C'est le lien entre nous et le réel absent.
C'est l'absence qui fait naître les poèmes.
Le signe incontestable du grand poète, c'est l'inconscience prophétique,
la troublante faculté de proférer par-dessus les hommes et le temps,
des paroles inouïes dont il ignore lui-même la portée.
Bloy Léon
Ecrire, c'est renouer avec soi.
Ecrire, c'est transformer une parcelle de vie.
Ecrire, c'est se retrouver à travers les autres.
Ecrire, c'est l'ESSENTIEL dans sa vraie spontanéité.
Osemaude.
L'ÂME SOLITAIRE (extraits) Albert Loizeau
J'attends. Le vent gémit. Le soir vient. L'heure sonne.
Mon cœur impatient s'émeut. Rien ni personne.
J'attends, les yeux fermés pour ne pas voir le temps
Passer en déployant les ténèbres. J'attends.
Cédant au sommeil dont la quiétude tente,
J'ai passé cette nuit en un rêve d'attente.
Le jour est apparu baigné d'or pourpre et vif,
Comme hier, comme avant, mon cœur bat attentif.
Et je suis énervé d'attendre, sans comprendre,
Comme hier et demain, ce que je puis attendre.
J'interroge mon cœur, qui ne répond pas bien...
Ah ! qu'il est douloureux d'attendre toujours — rien !
Dernière gerbeVictor Hugo
Voici que la saison décline,
L’ombre grandit, l’azur décroît,
Le vent fraîchit sur la colline,
L’oiseau frissonne, l’herbe a froid.
L’ombre grandit, l’azur décroît,
Le vent fraîchit sur la colline,
L’oiseau frissonne, l’herbe a froid.
Août contre septembre lutte ;
L’océan n’a plus d’alcyon ;
Chaque jour perd une minute,
Chaque aurore pleure un rayon.
L’océan n’a plus d’alcyon ;
Chaque jour perd une minute,
Chaque aurore pleure un rayon.
La mouche, comme prise au piège,
Est immobile à mon plafond ;
Et comme un blanc flocon de neige,
Petit à petit, l’été fond.
Et comme un blanc flocon de neige,
Petit à petit, l’été fond.
Photo Anne-Marie Dewaele
...
les rapports des mots entre eux,
le rythme et les assonances de la phrase.
Il ne dispose de rien d'autre que ça."
Pierre Reverd
L'envol d'une colombe
Une colombe vole dans le ciel,
Où n'y règne que la paix,
Elle s'envole vers la liberté,
Aux couleurs d'un arc-en-ciel.
Munie de ses belles blanches ailes,
Elle se mélange aux tendres nuages,
S'esquiver, pour elle est essentiel,
Ces endroits où existent les ombrages !
Une colombe, pleine de bonté
Que l'on ne peut attraper,
Que l'on ne peut encager,
Vivante, d'amour, de bonheur et de paix.
S'envoler vers des horizons lointains,
Dessinés dans des bulles d'airs;
Le chant d'un oiseau, de ses lendemains;
Voyager et siffler, dans ses sphères.
Une colombe, et son blanc plumage,
Se dissipe en direction des étoiles,
Cette voûte céleste, où demeurent les sages;
Suivez cette voie, nul n'a besoin d'un voile.
Où n'y règne que la paix,
Elle s'envole vers la liberté,
Aux couleurs d'un arc-en-ciel.
Munie de ses belles blanches ailes,
Elle se mélange aux tendres nuages,
S'esquiver, pour elle est essentiel,
Ces endroits où existent les ombrages !
Une colombe, pleine de bonté
Que l'on ne peut attraper,
Que l'on ne peut encager,
Vivante, d'amour, de bonheur et de paix.
S'envoler vers des horizons lointains,
Dessinés dans des bulles d'airs;
Le chant d'un oiseau, de ses lendemains;
Voyager et siffler, dans ses sphères.
Une colombe, et son blanc plumage,
Se dissipe en direction des étoiles,
Cette voûte céleste, où demeurent les sages;
Suivez cette voie, nul n'a besoin d'un voile.
Poème dont je ne connais pas l'auteur !
L'été
de Charles Cros
En été les lis et les roses
Jalousaient ses tons et ses poses,
La nuit, par l'odeur des tilleuls
Nous nous en sommes allés seuls.
L'odeur de son corps, sur la mousse,
Est plus enivrante et plus douce.
En revenant le long des blés,
Nous étions tous deux bien troublés.
Comme les blés que le vent frôle,
Elle ployait sur mon épaule.
Jalousaient ses tons et ses poses,
La nuit, par l'odeur des tilleuls
Nous nous en sommes allés seuls.
L'odeur de son corps, sur la mousse,
Est plus enivrante et plus douce.
En revenant le long des blés,
Nous étions tous deux bien troublés.
Comme les blés que le vent frôle,
Elle ployait sur mon épaule.
Les chemins de tendresse
de Simone Conduché
Prends ma main. Ne la lâche pas. J'écouterai ce que tu veux me dire.
Si tu préfères te taire, j'entendrai ton silence.
Si tu ris, je rirai avec toi, mais jamais de toi… Si tu es triste, j'essayerai de te consoler.
Je ferai pour toi des bouquets de soleil.
J'allumerai des feux de joie là où chacun ne voyait plus que des cendres.
Si je n'ai qu'une rose, je te la donnerai. Si je n'ai qu'un chardon, je le garderai pour moi.
Je te donnerai ce qui te plaît, ce qui te rassure le plus si je le possède.
Si je ne le possède pas, j'essayerai de l'acquérir.
Donne-moi la main. Nous irons où tu voudras. Je te ferai entendre la musique que j'aime.
Si tu ne l'aimes pas, j'écouterai la tienne… J'essaierai de l'aimer !
Je t'apprendrai ce que je sais. C'est peu. Tu m'apprendras ce que tu sais. C'est beaucoup.
Ne dis pas que tu ne sais rien : cela n'existe pas, quelqu'un qui ne sait rien… ou alors,
si cela existe, tant mieux car ce serait quelqu'un comme un jardin sauvage,
un jardin à naître où l'on peut rêver mille jardins… comme…
comme un enfant à venir, un enfant espéré :
ce serait la vie devant soi, ronde, inattaquée, comme une boule de Noël.
Prends ma main. Cinq doigts refermés autour des nôtres, c'est le plus beau cadeau du monde.
Cela nous préserve de la peur, de l'abandon, du doute.
Une main offerte, c'est un monde nouveau.
Tu es toi. Je suis ce que je suis.
Je ne troublerai pas ta musique intérieure.
Je ne me blesserai pas de tes silences.
Tu respecteras les miens. Je ne t'assassinerai pas de “pourquoi ?”.
Tu ne diras pas que je fais des fausses notes
si je ne pense pas comme toi…
Donne-moi la main. Nous irons avec la vie,
comme le sable, le temps et l'eau :
entre source et delta. Différents et si proches à la fois…
ACCUEIL DU SITE
It was in a small, black, hardbound volume of Iqbal’s Urdu verse, that I saw the name Goethe for the first time. Iqbal’s Baang e Dara had belonged to me since before I could read and it became an object of mystery, likely due to the manner in which it entered my psyche: in candlelight, and in my mother’s voice. Prone to studying shadows, I was terrified of power outages at night, so my mother lit me a candle and read Iqbals’ poems for children in Baang e Dara: the dialogue between a spider and a fly, a mountain and a squirrel and other adaptations of English poems, in her lucid yet slightly elfin voice. The pages were turned right to left but a non-reader sees a text of poetry much in the cubist’s way— shapes centered on the page, squares or long rectangles, with tightly woven letters inside and wide margins to roam free in.
Over the years, the binding slackened from wear only under the section of children’s poems. When I was older I perused the rest of the book and found the poems complex but I was drawn to the miraculous harmonies formed of Urdu’s polygenetic beauty; its Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Turkish diction fitting as if synaptically, only in this poet-philosopher’s hands, to create a unique musical-intellectual whole.
I also found, to my astonishment, Iqbal’s poems addressing the greats belonging to a variety of cultures: Rumi, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Goethe, Hafiz, Ghazali, Blake, Emerson and other influential thinkers and poets. Iqbal’s century was changing the map fast, making his reflections on the learning of the East and West ever urgent. While rejecting the title “Sir” from the Raj, he continued to honor philosophers such as his own mentor (at Government College, Lahore) Dr. Thomas Arnold in his poems. Among great western thinkers, Goethe held a special place for Iqbal: Our soul discovers itself when we come into contact with a great mind. It was not until I had realized the infinitude of Goethe's imagination that I discovered the narrow breadth of my own.
Time and again, Goethe’s name stood out when I approached Iqbal’s poetry— there were many reasons for this, but the most memorable one was a typewritten response from the celebrated German scholar Annemarie Schimmel to my letter about my interest in Sufi poetry. She had read my poems closely and her brief letter was full of light and love. I heard the cosmic yes whispered in it, deep enough to give me a measure of patience, knee-deep as I was in raising my children while struggling to find time to read.
Yes has a way of flowering in some unknown darkness and resurfacing just when it seems to have faded away. A fragment of the Persian poet Hafiz led me to Goethe’s West-östlicher Divan, or West-East Divan, a work with deep roots inGoethe’s knowledge of and love for Islam and Sufism. A modern English translation of Goethe by Martin Bidney reached me just when I needed it. Assembling ideas for a course I was teaching on transmutation of forms and primary metaphors across cultures, I wanted to hear the sound of the original German— my mother in law, a native German speaker, read some lines aloud as my son Yousuf read the English version; I heard Sufi wisdom borne by languages other than Urdu, my mother tongue.
Martin Bidney’s translation of Goethe’s Divan brings me “home,” which is neither a place nor a time but a yes. Thisrichly imaginative work layers classic mystic themes in twelve sections including Moghanni Nameh (The Book of the Singer), Ishq Nameh (The Book of Love), Hikmet Nameh (The Book of Wisdom), and Tekfir Nameh (The Book of Observations).
In his introduction, Bidney mentions that well-known lines of the West-East Divan come from the Qur’an, such as the following lines which are a variation of verse 142 of the second Surah, where, in Von Hammer’s version, archangel Gabriel tells the prophet, “Say: To God belongs the Orient, to God belongs the Occident; He leads on the right path whom He will.”
To God belongs the Orient,
To God belongs the Occident,
The Northern and the Southern lands
Resting, tranquil, in His hands.
(in "Talismans", poem 5)
Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad.”
Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you.
- See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2014/01/goethe-the-sufi-of-weimar.html#sthash.nnph6dqU.dpuf
It was in a small, black, hardbound volume of Iqbal’s Urdu verse, that I saw the name Goethe for the first time. Iqbal’s Baang e Dara had belonged to me since before I could read and it became an object of mystery, likely due to the manner in which it entered my psyche: in candlelight, and in my mother’s voice. Prone to studying shadows, I was terrified of power outages at night, so my mother lit me a candle and read Iqbals’ poems for children in Baang e Dara: the dialogue between a spider and a fly, a mountain and a squirrel and other adaptations of English poems, in her lucid yet slightly elfin voice. The pages were turned right to left but a non-reader sees a text of poetry much in the cubist’s way— shapes centered on the page, squares or long rectangles, with tightly woven letters inside and wide margins to roam free in.
Over the years, the binding slackened from wear only under the section of children’s poems. When I was older I perused the rest of the book and found the poems complex but I was drawn to the miraculous harmonies formed of Urdu’s polygenetic beauty; its Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Turkish diction fitting as if synaptically, only in this poet-philosopher’s hands, to create a unique musical-intellectual whole.
I also found, to my astonishment, Iqbal’s poems addressing the greats belonging to a variety of cultures: Rumi, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Goethe, Hafiz, Ghazali, Blake, Emerson and other influential thinkers and poets. Iqbal’s century was changing the map fast, making his reflections on the learning of the East and West ever urgent. While rejecting the title “Sir” from the Raj, he continued to honor philosophers such as his own mentor (at Government College, Lahore) Dr. Thomas Arnold in his poems. Among great western thinkers, Goethe held a special place for Iqbal: Our soul discovers itself when we come into contact with a great mind. It was not until I had realized the infinitude of Goethe's imagination that I discovered the narrow breadth of my own.
Time and again, Goethe’s name stood out when I approached Iqbal’s poetry— there were many reasons for this, but the most memorable one was a typewritten response from the celebrated German scholar Annemarie Schimmel to my letter about my interest in Sufi poetry. She had read my poems closely and her brief letter was full of light and love. I heard the cosmic yes whispered in it, deep enough to give me a measure of patience, knee-deep as I was in raising my children while struggling to find time to read.
Yes has a way of flowering in some unknown darkness and resurfacing just when it seems to have faded away. A fragment of the Persian poet Hafiz led me to Goethe’s West-östlicher Divan, or West-East Divan, a work with deep roots inGoethe’s knowledge of and love for Islam and Sufism. A modern English translation of Goethe by Martin Bidney reached me just when I needed it. Assembling ideas for a course I was teaching on transmutation of forms and primary metaphors across cultures, I wanted to hear the sound of the original German— my mother in law, a native German speaker, read some lines aloud as my son Yousuf read the English version; I heard Sufi wisdom borne by languages other than Urdu, my mother tongue.
Martin Bidney’s translation of Goethe’s Divan brings me “home,” which is neither a place nor a time but a yes. Thisrichly imaginative work layers classic mystic themes in twelve sections including Moghanni Nameh (The Book of the Singer), Ishq Nameh (The Book of Love), Hikmet Nameh (The Book of Wisdom), and Tekfir Nameh (The Book of Observations).
In his introduction, Bidney mentions that well-known lines of the West-East Divan come from the Qur’an, such as the following lines which are a variation of verse 142 of the second Surah, where, in Von Hammer’s version, archangel Gabriel tells the prophet, “Say: To God belongs the Orient, to God belongs the Occident; He leads on the right path whom He will.”
To God belongs the Orient,
To God belongs the Occident,
The Northern and the Southern lands
Resting, tranquil, in His hands.
(in "Talismans", poem 5)
Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad.”
Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you.
- See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2014/01/goethe-the-sufi-of-weimar.html#sthash.nnph6dqU.dpuf
Goethe: The Sufi of Weimar
by Shadab Zeest HashmiIt was in a small, black, hardbound volume of Iqbal’s Urdu verse, that I saw the name Goethe for the first time. Iqbal’s Baang e Dara had belonged to me since before I could read and it became an object of mystery, likely due to the manner in which it entered my psyche: in candlelight, and in my mother’s voice. Prone to studying shadows, I was terrified of power outages at night, so my mother lit me a candle and read Iqbals’ poems for children in Baang e Dara: the dialogue between a spider and a fly, a mountain and a squirrel and other adaptations of English poems, in her lucid yet slightly elfin voice. The pages were turned right to left but a non-reader sees a text of poetry much in the cubist’s way— shapes centered on the page, squares or long rectangles, with tightly woven letters inside and wide margins to roam free in.
Over the years, the binding slackened from wear only under the section of children’s poems. When I was older I perused the rest of the book and found the poems complex but I was drawn to the miraculous harmonies formed of Urdu’s polygenetic beauty; its Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Turkish diction fitting as if synaptically, only in this poet-philosopher’s hands, to create a unique musical-intellectual whole.
I also found, to my astonishment, Iqbal’s poems addressing the greats belonging to a variety of cultures: Rumi, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Goethe, Hafiz, Ghazali, Blake, Emerson and other influential thinkers and poets. Iqbal’s century was changing the map fast, making his reflections on the learning of the East and West ever urgent. While rejecting the title “Sir” from the Raj, he continued to honor philosophers such as his own mentor (at Government College, Lahore) Dr. Thomas Arnold in his poems. Among great western thinkers, Goethe held a special place for Iqbal: Our soul discovers itself when we come into contact with a great mind. It was not until I had realized the infinitude of Goethe's imagination that I discovered the narrow breadth of my own.
Time and again, Goethe’s name stood out when I approached Iqbal’s poetry— there were many reasons for this, but the most memorable one was a typewritten response from the celebrated German scholar Annemarie Schimmel to my letter about my interest in Sufi poetry. She had read my poems closely and her brief letter was full of light and love. I heard the cosmic yes whispered in it, deep enough to give me a measure of patience, knee-deep as I was in raising my children while struggling to find time to read.
Yes has a way of flowering in some unknown darkness and resurfacing just when it seems to have faded away. A fragment of the Persian poet Hafiz led me to Goethe’s West-östlicher Divan, or West-East Divan, a work with deep roots inGoethe’s knowledge of and love for Islam and Sufism. A modern English translation of Goethe by Martin Bidney reached me just when I needed it. Assembling ideas for a course I was teaching on transmutation of forms and primary metaphors across cultures, I wanted to hear the sound of the original German— my mother in law, a native German speaker, read some lines aloud as my son Yousuf read the English version; I heard Sufi wisdom borne by languages other than Urdu, my mother tongue.
Martin Bidney’s translation of Goethe’s Divan brings me “home,” which is neither a place nor a time but a yes. Thisrichly imaginative work layers classic mystic themes in twelve sections including Moghanni Nameh (The Book of the Singer), Ishq Nameh (The Book of Love), Hikmet Nameh (The Book of Wisdom), and Tekfir Nameh (The Book of Observations).
In his introduction, Bidney mentions that well-known lines of the West-East Divan come from the Qur’an, such as the following lines which are a variation of verse 142 of the second Surah, where, in Von Hammer’s version, archangel Gabriel tells the prophet, “Say: To God belongs the Orient, to God belongs the Occident; He leads on the right path whom He will.”
To God belongs the Orient,
To God belongs the Occident,
The Northern and the Southern lands
Resting, tranquil, in His hands.
(in "Talismans", poem 5)
Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad.”
Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you.
- See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2014/01/goethe-the-sufi-of-weimar.html#sthash.nnph6dqU.dpuf
Monday, January 06, 2014
Goethe: The Sufi of Weimar
by Shadab Zeest HashmiIt was in a small, black, hardbound volume of Iqbal’s Urdu verse, that I saw the name Goethe for the first time. Iqbal’s Baang e Dara had belonged to me since before I could read and it became an object of mystery, likely due to the manner in which it entered my psyche: in candlelight, and in my mother’s voice. Prone to studying shadows, I was terrified of power outages at night, so my mother lit me a candle and read Iqbals’ poems for children in Baang e Dara: the dialogue between a spider and a fly, a mountain and a squirrel and other adaptations of English poems, in her lucid yet slightly elfin voice. The pages were turned right to left but a non-reader sees a text of poetry much in the cubist’s way— shapes centered on the page, squares or long rectangles, with tightly woven letters inside and wide margins to roam free in.
Over the years, the binding slackened from wear only under the section of children’s poems. When I was older I perused the rest of the book and found the poems complex but I was drawn to the miraculous harmonies formed of Urdu’s polygenetic beauty; its Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Turkish diction fitting as if synaptically, only in this poet-philosopher’s hands, to create a unique musical-intellectual whole.
I also found, to my astonishment, Iqbal’s poems addressing the greats belonging to a variety of cultures: Rumi, Shakespeare, Ghalib, Goethe, Hafiz, Ghazali, Blake, Emerson and other influential thinkers and poets. Iqbal’s century was changing the map fast, making his reflections on the learning of the East and West ever urgent. While rejecting the title “Sir” from the Raj, he continued to honor philosophers such as his own mentor (at Government College, Lahore) Dr. Thomas Arnold in his poems. Among great western thinkers, Goethe held a special place for Iqbal: Our soul discovers itself when we come into contact with a great mind. It was not until I had realized the infinitude of Goethe's imagination that I discovered the narrow breadth of my own.
Time and again, Goethe’s name stood out when I approached Iqbal’s poetry— there were many reasons for this, but the most memorable one was a typewritten response from the celebrated German scholar Annemarie Schimmel to my letter about my interest in Sufi poetry. She had read my poems closely and her brief letter was full of light and love. I heard the cosmic yes whispered in it, deep enough to give me a measure of patience, knee-deep as I was in raising my children while struggling to find time to read.
Yes has a way of flowering in some unknown darkness and resurfacing just when it seems to have faded away. A fragment of the Persian poet Hafiz led me to Goethe’s West-östlicher Divan, or West-East Divan, a work with deep roots inGoethe’s knowledge of and love for Islam and Sufism. A modern English translation of Goethe by Martin Bidney reached me just when I needed it. Assembling ideas for a course I was teaching on transmutation of forms and primary metaphors across cultures, I wanted to hear the sound of the original German— my mother in law, a native German speaker, read some lines aloud as my son Yousuf read the English version; I heard Sufi wisdom borne by languages other than Urdu, my mother tongue.
Martin Bidney’s translation of Goethe’s Divan brings me “home,” which is neither a place nor a time but a yes. Thisrichly imaginative work layers classic mystic themes in twelve sections including Moghanni Nameh (The Book of the Singer), Ishq Nameh (The Book of Love), Hikmet Nameh (The Book of Wisdom), and Tekfir Nameh (The Book of Observations).
In his introduction, Bidney mentions that well-known lines of the West-East Divan come from the Qur’an, such as the following lines which are a variation of verse 142 of the second Surah, where, in Von Hammer’s version, archangel Gabriel tells the prophet, “Say: To God belongs the Orient, to God belongs the Occident; He leads on the right path whom He will.”
To God belongs the Orient,
To God belongs the Occident,
The Northern and the Southern lands
Resting, tranquil, in His hands.
(in "Talismans", poem 5)
Goethe’s iconic stature as Germany’s Renaissance man probably demanded that his devotion to the Islamic faith be downplayed. In Bidney’s words: “Given the provincialism narrowing the views of many prospective readers, Goethe probably did not improve sales of the collection by coyly acknowledging, at age 68, that the book’s author did not wish to deny the imputation that he was himself a Muslim. But already at 23 he had written a poem in praise of the prophet Muhammad.”
Iqbal recalls Weimar as a garden where Goethe is buried (Gulshan-e-Weimar menh tera humnavah khwahbida hai") and like the young people who wander the gardens of the Hafiz’s tomb, opening Hafiz’s book on a random page to find the wisdom they need at the moment, Goethe promises in his Hikmet Nameh (Book of Proverbs):
With Talismans will I this book bestrew.
So amplitude and balance there will be.
With a believing needle, prick and see:
Everywhere is a helpful word for you.
- See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2014/01/goethe-the-sufi-of-weimar.html#sthash.nnph6dqU.dpuf
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzuDvQL_dLI
ReplyDeleteIS THE VERY LEARNED AND CHARISMATIC DR DEEPAK CHOPRA A FALSE OR SIMPLY A DELUDED ‘PROPHET’?
Modern Prophet Dr Deepak Chopra’s new religion almost exclusively for confused Westerners is the belief in CONSCIOUSNESS (a Molecular or Energy God) founded exclusively by Dr Chopra and others like David Ike, on part of Vedanta (Yoga, Karma, etc.) and part of Buddhism or their fundamentals. Dr Chopra claims that this (his) religion or philosophy claims to guarantee INDIVIDUAL HAPPINESS which has for ambition and as a result to MAKE THE NEIGHBOUR HAPPY.
Dr Chopra claims that this offshoot of the Vedanta-Buddha religion is the best suited for humanity as everybody will thus be happy and many Western souls who have been disillusioned with their respective churches and still looking for happiness should adopt that philosophical WAY where more often God is anathema and God and religion are even despised, denigrated or even hated.
Yet, Vedanta (Hinduism) preaches the belief in ONE CREATOR GOD! But, as Christianity has had its heretic apostle, PAUL, Hinduism too has had its heretic apostle, GAUTUM SIDDHARTHA (“the Buddha”).
IS THE VERY LEARNED AND CHARISMATIC DR DEEPAK CHOPRA A FALSE OR SIMPLY A DELUDED ‘PROPHET’?
BAFS
SINGER : MOHD. RAFI LYRICIST : SHAKEEL BADAYUNI MUSIC : NAUSHAAD MOVIE : MELA (1948) LYRICS : ye zindagi ke mele ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele duniya mein kam na honge , afsos hum na honge duniya mein kam na honge , afsos hum na honge ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele ik din padega jaana , kya waqt kya zamaana ik din padega jaana , kya waqt kya zamaana haaaaan koyee na saath dega , sab kuchh yahin rahega koyee na saath dega , sab kuchh yahin rahega haaaaan jaayenge hum akele , jaayenge hum akele ye zindagi ke mele , duniya mein kam na honge afsos hum na honge ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele duniya mein kam na honge , afsos hum na honge ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele duniyaa hai mauj -e-dariya , katre ki zindagi kya duniyaa hai mauj- e-dariya , katre ki zindagi kya haaaan paani mein mil ke paani , anjaam ye ke phaani paani mein mil ke paani , anjaam ye ke phaani heeeee dum bhar ko saans le le , dum bhar ko saans le le ye zindagi ke mele , duniya mein kam na honge afsos hum na honge ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele hongi yahi bahaarein , ulfat ki yaadgaarein hongi yahi bahaarein , ulfat ki yaadgaarein heein bigdegi aur banegi , duniya yahi rahegi bigdegi aur banegi , duniya yahi rahegi heeeee honge yahi jhamele , honge yahi jhamele ye zindagi ke mele , duniya mein kam na honge afsos hum na honge ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele ye zindagi ke mele , ye zindagi ke mele
ReplyDeletehttp://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2013/06/love-allah-and-you-will-never-thirst.html
ReplyDeletehttp://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2016/10/zikr-allah-almost-forgotten-art-of.html
http://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2013/03/bafs-mothering-sunday-10-march-2013.html
http://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2016/09/when-basheer-loves-he-never-stops.html
http://muhammad-ali-ben-marcus.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-alien-beginning-and-end-of-humankind.html