Indian Antiquary Vol 43

SR No.: 032535
Original Sutra Author: N/A
Author: Richard Carnac Temple, Devadatta Ramkrishna Bhandarkar
Publisher: Swati Publications
Publication Year: 1984
Total Pages: 344
Language: English
Classification: Book_English
File Size: 14 MB

Page 227

OCTOBER, 1914.]
THE POEMS OF PRINCE KAMRAN
223
TRANSLATION.
Ghazals. As no one guided us towards our destiny, let there be, hereafter, the dust of the Magi's door and our forehead.
As our affairs did not open (prosper) from the locked door of the pious, perhaps hereafter our door may be unlocked from the grogshop.
The steed is slow, the night dark, and the highwayman behind: oh, if the guide of your merey will not direct us the way.
We are inured to pain and care of your love, 80 send every moment pain and care to our sorrow-nurtured mind.
Oh, with longing my heart beats and I am full of anguish, perhaps the glad tidings of union are coming from the captor of our hearts,
0 Kamran, I have burnt myself by the fire of separation of a person, into whose lane never reaches a'particle of our ashes.
May your beauty increase every moment, may your luck be happy and auspicious. The dust that rises from your path, may it be the surma of my eyes, who am distressed. The dust that rises from the way of Laila, may it rest on the eyes of Majnun.
Like me, hundreds as Darius and Faridun be your slaves. He who did not move round you like a compass, ought to be out of this circle.
Kamrán so long as the world exists, may Humayûn be the ruler of the universe.
I saw the beloved in full sympathy with my rivals, O God, make easy to me this difficult situation.
Would that He, who gives power of skipping to that gracefully walking Cypress, give the impatient patience.
In conversation, his rubies (lips) as if showers pearls : how shall I suppress weeping from my pearl-raining eyes.
He who lifts from his front the screen of egotism, will never think of another thing in this world except of the beloved.
O Kâmran as naught came to my sight except the Friend, so I did look to my heart's content the treasure of the sight.
O Kâfir, wine-bibbing, fearless, by God have mercy on this burnt-one, without head and foot.
Your heart is never melted by my suvery tears, You silver-cheeked, stony-hearted and tulip-faced.
I wish & corner of your eyes, that is to say, give consolation, with a look, to my sorrowful heart.
Sweet boy, your ruby-like lips are the water of life, a drop of that water upon the thirsty-lipped, by God.
I am having my eyes on your way, and so it has been since some time, it is time that you should put towards us a few steps.
He who never sends towards us any message, would that he had pleased me with a little abuse.
That no one may gauge my heart's longings towards your face, I want the treasure of your company and a few heart-comforts.
Whenever my eyes look to your beauty, a hundred life-wasting lamentations come out of my soul.
Since your body is the tree of hope, it is not strange that my tree of hope will bear fruit from your body.