Barish

We can’t help being thirsty, moving toward the voice of water.

Milk drinkers draw close to the mother.

Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists,

Hindus, shamans, everyone hears the intelligent sound

and moves with thirst to meet it.

***_>*> Molana Jalaluddin Rumi<*<_***

 (1207-1273)

***>*>***Molana Jalaluddin Rumi***<*<***

Masnavi Book I, 599-607

We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee;

we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.

We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat:

our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are comely!

Who are we, O Thou soul of our souls,

that we should remain in being beside thee?

We and our existences are really non-existence;

thou art the absolute Being which manifests the perishable.

We all are lions, but lions on a banner:

because of the wind they are rushing onward from moment to moment.

Their onward rush is visible, and the wind is unseen: may that which is unseen not fail from us!

Our wind whereby we are moved and our being are of thy gift; our whole existence is from thy bringing into being.

Acquainted With the Night

***_>*>Robert Frost<*<_***

I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain – and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still at an unearthly height,

One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night.

*****Rain in Summer*****

How beautiful is the rain!

After the dust and the heat,

In the broad and fiery street,

In the narrow lane,

How beautiful is the rain!

Rain

***_>*> Edward Thomas <*<_***

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain

On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me

Remembering again that I shall die

And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks

For washing me cleaner than I have been

Since I was born into this solitude.

Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:

But here I pray that none whom once I loved

Is dying to-night or lying still awake

Solitary, listening to the rain,

Either in pain or thus in sympathy

Helpless among the living and the dead,

Like a cold water among broken reeds,

Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,

Like me who have no love which this wild rain

Has not dissolved except the love of death,

If love it be towards what is perfect and

Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.

Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth;

without rain, there would be no life.

*_>***>* John Updike*<***<_*

An Autumn Rain-Scene 

*_*>*** Thomas Hardy***<*_*

There trudges one to a merry-making

With sturdy swing,

On whom the rain comes down.

To fetch the saving medicament

Is another bent,

On whom the rain comes down.

One slowly drives his herd to the stall

Ere ill befall,

On whom the rain comes down.

This bears his missives of life and death

With quickening breath,

On whom the rain comes down.

One watches for signals of wreck or war

From the hill afar,

On whom the rain comes down.

No care if he gain a shelter or none,

Unhired moves on,

On whom the rain comes down.

And another knows nought of its chilling fall

Upon him aat all,

On whom the rain comes down.

Paper Boats

***_>***>_Sir Rabindranath Tagore_<***<_***

Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running stream.

In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of the village where I live.

I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and know who I am.

I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land in the night.

I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.

I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down the air to race with my boats!

When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.

The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins their baskets full of dreams.

My sorrow, when she’s here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain

are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree;

she walks the sodden pasture lane.

- Robert Frost

Let the rain kiss you.

Let the rain beat upon your headwith silver liquid drops.

Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

- Langston Hughes, April Rain Song, 1902 – 1967

Keeping in touch with childhood memories keeps us believing

in life’s simplest pleasures like a rainy afternoon,

a swingset, and a giant puddle to play in.

- Chrissy Ogden

Till taught by pain,

Men really know not what good water’s worth;

If you had been in Turkey or in Spain,

Or with a famish’d boat’s-crew had your berth,

Or in the desert heard the camel’s bell,

You’d wish yourself where Truth is–in a well.

*_*>***Lord Byron, Don Juan***<*_*

Raat

Wo tau resham sa koi khwab tha
وہ تو ریشم سا کوئی خواب تھا

Bunn rakha tha in aankhon ne
بن رکھا تھا ان آنکھوں نے

Roshni mein tau bohut saaf nazar aata tha
روشنی میں تو بہت صاف نظر آتا تھا

Jhilmilati hui baaton se gundha har manzar
جھلملاتی ہوئی باتوں سے گندھا ہر منظر

Jo sitaron mein tere aks ko rakh jata tha
جو ستاروں میں ترے عکس کو رکھ جاتا تھا

Lekin aisa hai ke jab lamha judai ka gira
لیکن ایسا ہے کہ جب لمحہ جدائی کا گرا

Khwab-dar-khwab mittey saare sitaron se naqoosh
خواب در خواب مٹے سارے ستاروں کے نقوش

Surkh pholon ne tau chaha ke lahoo dein apna
سرخ پھولوں نے تو چاہا کہ لہو دیں اپنا

Saans, chalne ke liye jism ki khwahish oorhey
سانس، چلنے کے لیئے جسم کی خواہش اوڑھے

Saanp tha dass ke lakeer apni magar chorr gaya
سانپ تھا ڈس کے لکیر اپنی مگر چھوڑ گیا

Ab hai ik chaand jo bas dor nazar aata hai
اب ہے اک چاند جو بس دور نظر آتا ہے

Aur hai RAAT,Jo aankhon mein chubbha kerti hai….!
اور ہے رات ۔ ۔ ۔ جو آنکھوں میں چبھا کرتی ہے !

Tootay Par Chiryaan

Darakhton sey harey pat’tey hawa kyon nooch leti hai !

Wo In chirryon ke totey par kahan par beich deti hai !

Inhein jo mol koi ley

Dukhon se tol koi ley

agar dil mein ye chubh jayein

Tau gehre naqsh khub jayein

Agar hum waqt se chup kar kahin be’waqt ho jayein

Aur in chirryon ki surat

Wuqa’at apni hum bhi kho jayein

Tau kya phir bhi lagataar aise san’naton ki gehri dhol

Yahan urr urr kar aaye gi !

Tau kya phir sokhi sokhi tehniyon ki kokh mein

Ghamnaak saanson ko

wohi biptaa sunaey gi !

Harey pat’ton ki har konpal

Jo apni khushk aankhon mein

Namee ke phool chunti hai

Tapak ker boond ki man’nind rishtey torr jaey gi

Hum apni siskiyaan chal kar

Kisi khandaq ki gehrai mein

Jaa ker dafn ker aayein

Hawa ke teiz nakhun bhi tarash aayein

Tau phir in tot’tey par chirryon ko bhi

Parwaaz aayey gi

Hamari be sada baaton mein bhi

Aawaaz aayey gi !!!

******

Zaroorat

                                        

Falak jaisa ho dil uska

Qadam suraj ke jaise hon

Wo karriyal jism rakhta ho, Nigha shehbaaz jaisi ho

Wo bole tau mohabbat karwatein leti ho lafzon mein

Badan ke gandami peikar mein garmi ho qayamat ki

Kuch aisa sarw’qaamat ho, chale jo saath mere tau

Usey ruk ruk ke dekhein larkiyaan rah mein

Siyaah baalon ka koi sheid jo aajaey maathey par

Tau do’pehron mein dam bhar shaam ke saaye ubhar aayein

Mujh aisi kehkashaaon ko wajahat dekh kar uski

Zameen par toot girne ki tammana tang kerti ho

Magar mein sochti hon, waqi’atan koi aisa ho

Tau kya mere qadam bhi bhool jayeingay gali apni

Nahein, …. aisa nahein hoga

Nahein aisa nahein hoga

Bohut hi khoobsurat hai …meri shaadaab tanhaee

Bohut hi khoobsurat hai

Jisey meri zaroorat hai !!!

Phir Kya howa

Phir Kya howa ye raah ki sushwariyon se poch

Bus itna yaad hay, Teri janib chala tha main.

Mehsoos kar raha hoon

 Mehsoos kar raha hoon main jene ki talkhian

Shyad muje kise se muhabat nahi rahi

Hasrat Bhari Nigahon Ko Aaraam Tak Na

Hasrat Bhari Nigahon Ko Aaraam Tak Nahi

Wo Yoon Badal Gaya K Ab Salam Tak Nahi

Jis Ki Talab Me Zindaagi Apni Guzaar Di

Us Be-Wafaa K Lab Pe Mera Naam Tak Nahi

Jo Keh Gaye The Shaam Ko Baithenge Aaj Phir

Kuch Saal Ho Gaye Koi Paigham Tak Nahi

Madfun Hun Tere Hijar Ki Ek Aisi Qabar Me

Kutbay Pe Jis K Aaj Koi Naam Tak Nahi

Be-Ikhtiyaar Uthte Hain Mere Qadam Udhar

Haalan-K Us Gali Me Mujhe Kaam Tak Nahi...

Qana'at

Ya Qanat hy ky Atat hy ky chahat hy Faraz

Hum tu Razi hy wo jis hal ma jesa rekhy

Rain of sadness

Gham ki Barish ny bhi tery naqsh ko doya nai

tu ny muj ko kho dia ma ny khoya nai

Aainy jesa kamal

Mujay b Aainy jesa kamal hasil hy

ma tutta hu u phir beshamar hota hu

Hakeekat

Haseen Khwab Dikha K Bhol Jate Hain

 Log Apna Bna K Bhol Jate Hain

 Judai Ka Naam Sun Ke Rone Wale

 Kuch Dor Ja Ke Bhol Jate Hain 

Is Baar Meri Jang

Is Baar Meri Jang Hai Khud Apni Zaat Se 

Is Baar Har Jane Ka Imkan Bohat Hai

Dosron Se Pyar Krain

Kab Talak Tuj Pe Inhisar Krain

 Kun Na Ab Dosron Se Pyar Krain 

Tu Kabi Waqt Par Nahi Phucha 

Kis Tarah Tera Aitbar Krain 

Koi Aj Chalya Koi Kal Chalya

Koi Ban Gaya Ronaq Pakhian Di,  Koi Chor Ke Sheesh Mehal Chalya
 Koi Palya Naaz Te Nakhrian Wich, Koi Rait Garam Te Thal Chalya
 Koi Bhul Gaya Maqsad Aawan Da, Koi Kar Ke Maqsad Hal Chalya 
Ithay Har Koi Fareed Musafar Ae, Koi Aj Chalya Koi Kal Chalya 

Na mari Dua ne safr kiya

Na mari Dua ne safr kiya Na mare Aansoo ne asr kiya 
Tujhe mang mang k thak gae mare hont Be Haath Be 

Main Kahan Jaon?

Dhund Chai Hui Hai Jheelon Par
Ur Rahe Hain Parinde Teelon Par
Sab Ka Rukh Hai Nishamon Ki Taraf
Bastion Ki Taraf, Banon Ki Taraf

Apne Glon Ko Le Kar Charwahe
Sarhadi Bastion Mein Ja Phunche
Dil-e Nakam! Main Kahan Jaon?
Ajnabi Shaam! Main Kahan Jaon?

Iqbal poetry with translation

Allama Iqbal Poetry

YOUTUBE

                  

Translation

Har Lehza Hai Momin Ki Nayi Shan, Nayi Aan
Guftar Mein, Kirdar Mein, Allah Ki Burhan!

A Muslim true gets grandeur new with moment's change and every hour: 
By words and deeds he gives a proof of Mighty God, His reach and power.

Qahhari-o-Ghaffari-o-Quddusi-o-Jabroot
Ye Char Anasir Hon To Banta Hai Musalman

To rout the foes, to grant them reprieve, do pious deeds and show great might:
 Are four ingredients that make A Muslim devout who shuns not fight. 

Humsaya-e-Jibreel-e-Ameen Banda-e-Khaki
Hai Iss Ka Nasheman Na Bukhara Na Badakhshan

With Gabriel trusted and steadfast this clay-born man has kinship close: A dwelling in some land or clime for himself Muslim never chose. 

Ye Raaz Kisi Ko Nahin Maloom Ke Momin
Qari Nazar Ata Hai, Haqiqat Mein Hai Quran!

This secret yet none has grasped  that Muslim Scripture reads so sweet: 
Practising rules by it prescribed, becomes its pattern quite complete. 

Qudrat Ke Maqasid Ka Ayar Uss Ke Irade
Dunya Mein Bhi Meezan, Qayamat Mein Bhi Meezan

The Faithful acts on aims and ends that Nature keeps before its sight:
 In world he sifts the good and bad, In future shall judge wrong and right. 

Jis Se Jigar-e-Lala Mein Thandak Ho, Woh Shabnam
Daryaon Ke Dil Jis Se Dehel Jaen, Woh Toofan

While dealing with friends and mates, He is dew that thirst of tulip slakes:
 When engaged with his foes in fight, like torrent strong makes rivers shake.

Firat Ka Surood-e-Azali Iss Ke Shab-o-Roz
Ahang Mein Yakta Sift-e-Soorah-e-Rehman

The charm of Nature's eternal song  in Muslim's life, no doubt is found: 
Like chapter Rahman of the Quran, Is full of sweet melodious sound.

Bante Hain Meri Kargah-e-Fikr Mein Anjum
Le Apne Muqaddar Ke Sitare Ko Tu Pehchan!

Such thoughts that shine like lustrous stars my brain, like workshop, can provide:
 You can select the star you like, so that your Fate this star may guide!

Allama Iqbal Poetry - Inspirational Poetry

Har Lehza Hai Momin Ki Nai Shan, Nai Aan
Guftar Mein, Kirdar Mein, Allah Ki Burhan.!

Qahhari-O-Guffari-O-Quddusi-O-Jabroot
Ye Char Anasir Hon To Banta Hai Musalman..

Hamsaya-E-Jibreel-E-Ameen, Banda-E-Khaaki
Hai Is Ka Nashaiman Na Bukhara Na Badakhsaan

Yeh Raaz Kisi Koi Nahi Maloom Ke Momin,
Qari Nazar Ata Hai, Haqeeqat Mein Hai Quraan..

Qudrat Ke Maqasir Ka Ayyar Is Kay Iraday
Duniya Mein Bhi Maizan, Qayamat Mein Bhi Maizan

Jis Se Jigar-E-Lala Mein Thandak Ho, Wo Shabnam
Daryaaon Ke Dil Jis Se Dehal Jayen, Wo Taufaan

Har Lehza Hai Momin (Mard-e-Momin) Translation

A Muslim true gets grandeur new
with moment’s change and every hour
By words and deeds he gives a proof
Of Mighty God, His reach and power.

To rout the foes, to grant them reprieve,
Do pious deeds and show great might
Are four ingredients that make
A Muslim Devout who shuns not fight.

With Gabriel trusted and steadfast
This clay-born man has kinship close
A dwelling in some land or clime
For himself Muslim never chose.

This secret yet none has grasped
That Muslim Scripture reads so sweet
Practicing rules by it prescribed,
Becomes its pattern quite complete.

The Faithful acts on aims and ends
That Nature keeps before its sight
In world he sifts the good and bad,
In future shall judge wrong and right.

While dealing with friends and mates,
He is dew that thirst of tulip slakes:
When engaged with his foes in fight,
Like torrent strong makes rivers shake.

The charm of Nature’s eternal song
In Muslim’s life, no doubt is found
Like chapter Rahman of the Koran,
Is full of sweet melodious sound.

Such thoughts that shine like lustrous stars
My brain, like workshop, can provide
You can select the star you like,
So that your Fate this star may guide.