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THE PHILOSOPHY OF GRIEF

THE PHILOSOPHY OF GRIEF
(Addressed to Mian Fazli Husain Barrister‐At‐Law, Lahore)
Though the wine of life is the embodiment of pleasure
The cloud of life carries tears also in its skirt
The bubble of life dances on the wave of grief
“Alam’s” Surah is also part of the Book of Life
By losing even a single petal the rose ceases to be rose
If the nightingale is unaware of autumn it ceases to be nightingale
The heart’s story is colored with Longing’s blood
The human music is incomplete without lament’s cry
For the discerning eye the grief’s scar is insight
For the soul sigh’s mirror is beauty’s accompaniment
Incidents of grief give perfection to human nature
The dust of anguish is rouge for the heart’s mirror
Youth is awakened from sleep’s pleasure by grief
This orchestra wakes up with this plectrum alone
For the heart’s bird grief is the strongest feather
The human heart is a secret whose disclosure is grief
Grief is not distress, but is the soul’s silent song
Which is locked in the embrace of existence’ harp
Whose night is not acquainted with Ya Rab’s plaint!
Whose night does not manifest the stars of tears
Whose heart’s cup does not know breaking with grief
Who always remained ecstatic with pleasure and exhilaration
The gardener whose hand is safe from thorn’s tip
Whose love is unaware of the pathos of separation
Though grief’s affliction is far from his life
The secret of life is concealed from his eyes
O the one with comprehension of life’s affairs
Why should not grief and sorrow be easy for you?
Love is the introduction to the Eternity’s old treatise
Human intellect is mortal but Love is eternally alive
The evening of death is no match to the sun of Love
Love is the warmth of life and lasts till eternity
If annihilation had been intended for the departed beloved
Love’s zeal would have also departed from the Lover’s heart
Love does not die by the beloved’s death
It stays in the soul as grief but does not die
Lover’s immortality is the beloved’s immortality
The beloved’s life is unacquainted with mortality
The spring comes singing from the mountain top
Teaching the art of singing to the birds of the sky
Its mirror is bright like the Houri’s cheek
But falling on valley’s rocks it is shattered
The river’s pearls ever more beautiful became
That is by this fall they water’s stars became
The river of flowing mercury spread and became scattered
A whole entire world of restless drops became manifest
But separation is the training for reunion to those drops
After a while the same river is running like a silver string
The flowing river of life is of the same origin
Falling from high it became the concourse of humanity
In the depths of this world we part to reunite
But we cry considering temporary parting as permanent
Though the dead do die they do not perish
Really they do not get separated from us
When Intellect be surrounded in worldly calamities
Or when it be besieged in the dreary night of youth
When the heart’s skirt be the battle field of good and evil
When journey to the goal be difficult in road’s darkness
When the Khizr of courage may be resigned from longing
When Intellect be helpless and conscience a silent voice
When not a single fellow‐traveler be in the vale of life
When not even fire‐fly’s spark to show the way there be
The foreheads of the dead brighten up in this darkness
As stars are shining in the darkness of the night.
(Addressed to Mian Fazli Husain Barrister‐At‐Law, Lahore)
Though the wine of life is the embodiment of pleasure
The cloud of life carries tears also in its skirt
The bubble of life dances on the wave of grief
“Alam’s” Surah is also part of the Book of Life
By losing even a single petal the rose ceases to be rose
If the nightingale is unaware of autumn it ceases to be nightingale
The heart’s story is colored with Longing’s blood
The human music is incomplete without lament’s cry
For the discerning eye the grief’s scar is insight
For the soul sigh’s mirror is beauty’s accompaniment
Incidents of grief give perfection to human nature
The dust of anguish is rouge for the heart’s mirror
Youth is awakened from sleep’s pleasure by grief
This orchestra wakes up with this plectrum alone
For the heart’s bird grief is the strongest feather
The human heart is a secret whose disclosure is grief
Grief is not distress, but is the soul’s silent song
Which is locked in the embrace of existence’ harp
Whose night is not acquainted with Ya Rab’s plaint!
Whose night does not manifest the stars of tears
Whose heart’s cup does not know breaking with grief
Who always remained ecstatic with pleasure and exhilaration
The gardener whose hand is safe from thorn’s tip
Whose love is unaware of the pathos of separation
Though grief’s affliction is far from his life
The secret of life is concealed from his eyes
O the one with comprehension of life’s affairs
Why should not grief and sorrow be easy for you?
Love is the introduction to the Eternity’s old treatise
Human intellect is mortal but Love is eternally alive
The evening of death is no match to the sun of Love
Love is the warmth of life and lasts till eternity
If annihilation had been intended for the departed beloved
Love’s zeal would have also departed from the Lover’s heart
Love does not die by the beloved’s death
It stays in the soul as grief but does not die
Lover’s immortality is the beloved’s immortality
The beloved’s life is unacquainted with mortality
The spring comes singing from the mountain top
Teaching the art of singing to the birds of the sky
Its mirror is bright like the Houri’s cheek
But falling on valley’s rocks it is shattered
The river’s pearls ever more beautiful became
That is by this fall they water’s stars became
The river of flowing mercury spread and became scattered
A whole entire world of restless drops became manifest
But separation is the training for reunion to those drops
After a while the same river is running like a silver string
The flowing river of life is of the same origin
Falling from high it became the concourse of humanity
In the depths of this world we part to reunite
But we cry considering temporary parting as permanent
Though the dead do die they do not perish
Really they do not get separated from us
When Intellect be surrounded in worldly calamities
Or when it be besieged in the dreary night of youth
When the heart’s skirt be the battle field of good and evil
When journey to the goal be difficult in road’s darkness
When the Khizr of courage may be resigned from longing
When Intellect be helpless and conscience a silent voice
When not a single fellow‐traveler be in the vale of life
When not even fire‐fly’s spark to show the way there be
The foreheads of the dead brighten up in this darkness
As stars are shining in the darkness of the night.

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