Penchant for Poems
Ghazaliyat by Khaqani
“lovers seek none other.... than a risk-all lover
Good hearts only want.. an all-or-nothing lover.
While love reigns, reason is under ban
For folk won’t tolerate rival claims in love’s domain
There are those like me with nothing left them
But clipped wings and
Wide
eyes fixed on flame.
Stoke-hearts fired to fly flame, we
Are but moths driven to love’s flame.
Yet you’ll not catch me flying
Outside my love’s sacrosanct seraglio.
They don’t call that soul-searing spike
Oppression. They seek not shrieks
From that world-burning tulip,
Should i be slain by the flirt,
Of his
eyes twain lovely, take care—
Lest lovers
want my blood’s spurt
For his twin twinkling eyes.
This is the moral law in the lovers’ church;
None shall seek to gain
Blood-price for those in love slain
Speak not a word to Khaqani
Less its main line be love,
Lovers won’t hear a song sung
From the
nightingale’s tongue
‘less
roses be in bloom and spring be sprung
My day gave up its reign to night
my life came up to my lip,
made a desperate last-ditch pilgrimage
of the lip;
my soul rose all the way up to my throat
(and threatened to go)
hearing me over and over
going, "O my God! O my God!"
made the sky start miming my moan
my irksome tune of "O my God!" sing.
love came and goblet gave the way to goblet.
cups raising a hue and cry.
draining away that wine, it
maintaining an anti-faith stance.
each time i drew a draught
but higher i got. this time
i raised the double-sized chalice
and on my side, met your lips.
it was no struggle at all for us.
we had no need to spur on our steeds.
i went as far as her door, met
and talked with her guardian who said
"what brought on this passion so mad?"
her neighbor overheard my sigh and said,
"don't you think Khaqani is a bit fever-touched?"
My day gave up its reign to night
my life came up to my lip,
made a desperate last-ditch pilgrimage
of the lip;
my soul rose all the way up to my throat
(and threatened to go)
hearing me over and over
going, "O my God! O my God!"
made the sky start miming my moan
my irksome tune of "O my God!" sing.
love came and goblet gave the way to goblet.
cups raising a hue and cry.
draining away that wine, it
maintaining an anti-faith stance.
each time i drew a draught
but higher i got. this time
i raised the double-sized chalice
and on my side, met your lips.
it was no struggle at all for us.
we had no need to spur on our steeds.
i went as far as her door, met
and talked with her guardian who said
"what brought on this passion so mad?"
her neighbor overheard my sigh and said,
"don't you think Khaqani is a bit fever-touched?"
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