Re: Poetry Sharing, Mehfile Shier-o-Adab محفل شعر و ادب (Poetry Sharing Point)
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Mujhe Se Pehli Si Mohabbat
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Maine samjha tha ke tu hai to darakhshaan hai hayyaat
Tera gham hai to sham-e-dahar ka jhagra kya hai
Teri soorat se hai aalam mein baharon ko sabaat
Teri aankhon ke siwa dunya mein rakha kya hai
To jo mil jaye to taqdeer nigoon ho jaye
Yun na tha maine faqat chaha tha yun ho jaye
Aur bhi dukh hain zamane mein mohabbat ke siwa
Rahatein aur bhi hain wasl ki raahat ke siwa
Angeenat sadiyon ke taariq bahimanaa talism
Resham-o-atlas-o-kamKhwaab mein bunwaye hue
Jaa-ba-jaa biktey hue koochaa-o-bazaar mein jism
Khaak mein litharey hue, khoon mein nehlaaye hue
Jism nikaley hue amraaz ke tannuuron se
Peep behti hui jaltey hue naasuuron se
Laut jaati hai udhar ko bhi nazar kya ki jiye
Ab bhi dilkash hai tera husn mager kya ki jiye
Aur bhi dukh hain mohabbat ke dukh ke siwa
Rahatein aur bhi hain wasl ki raahat ke siwa
Mujhse pehli si mohabbat mere mehboob na maang
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Don’t Ask Me Now, Beloved
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Don’t ask me now, Beloved, for that love of other days
When I thoughy since you were, life would always scintillate
That love’s pain being mine, the world’s pain I could despise
That your beauty lastingness to the spring would denote,
That noyhing in the world was of worth but your eyes;
Were you to be mine, fate would bow low before me.
It was not so; it was only my wish that it were so;
Other pains esist than those that love brings,
Other joys than those of lover’s mingling.
Dark fareful talisman, come down the centuries,
Woven in silk and damask and cloth of gold;
Bodies that everywhere in streets sold
Covered with dust, all their wounds bleeding.
Bodies that have passed through the furnace of ills
With putrid ulcers which their humours spills.
How can I but turn my eyes sometimes that way?
Your beauty is still ravishing, what can I say?
Other pains exist than those that love brings,
Other joys than those of lovers’ mingling.
Don’t ask me now, Beloved, for that love of other days.
