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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
Lap of fancy fills with flowers,
Just to think of her tonight,
This is not an idle talk,
I'm in good humor tonight.
I would not reveal my secrets,
To enchanting eyes of hers,
But she took away my power,
I could not resist tonight.
Beauty's garden I'm traversing,
Half-inclined to soar up high,
Heaven don't throw at the wings
Of my joy your rocks tonight.
I have no pre-occupation
But her deep mysterious eyes,
I am stealing black collyrium
From the eyes of deer tonight.
The heart's mirror takes its luster
From her splendor, may be somehow
Supplicant, it rubbed its face
On the feet of Love tonight.
My good thoughts are a reflection
From the scripture of her face,
In the vault of chance and fate,
I see evil shunned tonight.
Keeping far from grape's daughter,
And with good luck being in bed,
The first option I forbid me,
Second one my right tonight.
Reason, you think only of one thing,
The impossible, so leave me,
Don't you talk to me this once,
Of forbidden love tonight!
Qasem Ghazanfar,
Translated from the Persian by the author
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
The Secret of the Heart
Do not fight with the pain,
A companion for the heart;
Do not object to sorrow;
It's so soothing for the heart.
In the house of tears and patience,
And the winterland of hardships,
There's built a secret chamber,
Nicest set up for the heart.
If you look very intensely,
In a well, so dark and deep,
You will see fallen a Joseph,
Dreaming dreamlands of the heart.
When the days come to a close,
In the vain pursuits of life,
In the folds of night's dark hair,
Seek the dwelling of the heart.
If you do find your way,
To the reeds of Divine Knowledge,
Listen gently to the soul songs,
Celebration of the heart.
From the tulips seek the scars,
Since the Tavern of the plains,
Offers cupfuls of red blood,
From the chambers of the heart.
Come to terms if willy nilly,
With the breath of unkind fate,
Since complaints are not in order,
From the prisoner of the heart.
When the silver stars begin,
To tell stories of pure love,
I should, too, go seek a corner,
Prostrate before the heart.
Abul Qasem Ghazanfar
Translated from the Persian by the author himself
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
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The Goblet of Desire
Saki! Come pour the wine in cups of yearning
My heart is bleeding, pour the goblet's blood,
The Tavern has its fame from your beguiling eyes
Your lovely eyes' intoxicant pour in the cup!
The flower garden is no match to steal my heart
Your face's flower petals are usurpers fine,
Your ruby lip so life-giving is spring of youth
The red ruby of life pour down upon my lips!
The flower petal rubs its breast upon the thorn
The eye-lashes of morning dew to prick the flowers veins,
The fingers of musicians do caress the spirit's harp
The heart of bottle open and fill up the veins with fire!
Lighted is the Tavern with the radiance of your face
You steal the heart with so much charm dear love,
A glance from you can stir the wine to dance,
Come pour till the morning the mixture that cures the heart!
The Tavern is a shelter for the heart which is afflicted
The burning heart and tearful eyes are precious,
The cries we have are those from the night of disappointment
To quench my thirst pour down a river running full of wine!
The Tavern is the realm reserved for hostages of sorrow
The cries are only translators of painfully sad nights,
The world of those who feel is such a sweet and lovely world
Whatever love you're carrying, pour everything right here!
Qasem Ghazanfar,
Translated from the Persian
by the author
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
Negligent
Wake that beauty, she who stole my sense and sleep,
Put that deer herself in nets she's wrought so deep;
If my sleeping luck were not unkind like her,
Would I do so much her laxing ways to alter.
Could it be her loveliness will take a loss,
If like nightingales her flowerbed I cross?
No, narcisus, you may go mad with distress,
You would never match her languid eyes, confess.
Rare fortune, if it happens to embrace her rare charm,
To, perchance, sweeten my days of disappointment in her arm!
What's the harm in Nature's vast and lovely sweep,
If I also toward her charming meadows creep?
If in this gamble, I'm not allowed my whole being to bet,
Win or lose, rotten the deal, cast is the die, and fixed the set!
Abul Qasem Ghazanfar
Translated from the original Farsi
by the author.
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
Intent on Madness
Intent on madness deserts I tread
Reveal my scars to tulips red
Her beauty's rays ov'rwhelm my mind
'Tis not for naught disgrace I find
Surrendered all to beauty's power
With all my heart I signed this offer
Drunk as I am with fancy's face
I am by choice in wine's embrace
Taken to head, her thoughts are mine
Open the bottle, worship the wine
The heart, a bird, restless, insane
I tied its wings with jasmine mane
Perchance a glance is thrown my way
By Tavern door I'll wait and pray
I found those lips looking like wine
That's why I turned to goblet fine
Cupfuls of flowers, mem'ries of her face
I've seen in the cup a garden of grace
To drink I must, rapture's my way
I've chosen the sea, be it what may!
Abul Qasem Ghazanfar
18 June 1980
Translated from the Persian by the author
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
Love
An enigma that knows not the count of time
A vast ocean, measureless its borderlines,
Astral light, the luscious light of smiling moon
Heavens can't fathom its pleasant, charming guiles.
If it catches a heart unguarded, it plunders
Makes it yield to vast domains and heaven highs;
Now with secret signals, now with puzzling ways,
Tells such stories of heart tongue can't verbalize.
From its glory height if a splendorous sign one sees,
He or she will not distinguish gain or loss.
In a moment it can seize the reins of reason
In its mind, fiction or fact's an even toss.
If a beggar should approach its lofty heaven
Such a height no king is apt to realize.
With a shafting flame it will cause an upheaval
It surpasses Milky Way in its ascendance.
If a heart should be a target of its arrows,
It will no longer know of patience or endurance.
Qasem Ghazanfar
Translated from the original Persian
by the author.
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
Empty Shells
A wrong leader in power
Frustrates all hopes
The poets will not sing any new songs
A dullness may take over
Natural purposes retarded
It even makes you wonder
If God intended grace
To allow to build a dream
Of rainbow or embrace
Greed will tip the balance
Plans and semi-plans
Of ideologues and clans
Will limit natural choices
People in total loss
It finally will lead
To sacrificial lamb … Love
To be summoned to submit in the chaos!
One possible result is:
Empty shells may seize the day!
Abul Qasem Ghazanfar
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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Abul Ghazanfar Poem
It All Depends On Chances
It all depends on chances
And love may be a help
Or it may break a heart
In sheer coincidence
Who knows what certainty
Resides in misty glances?
It's like the toughest game:
Today
With passion trembling
precarious ways to go
Tomorrow
What the deal may be
You may not want to know!
And in a hundred years
When we find happiness
On a bewitching tier
From a surreal sphere
A moment debonair
To soothe a troubled mind
Would be indeed a rare find!
Persistence! Is it wise?
Who knows the exact mapping
Of a heart with signals crossed?
You're at a total loss
Unless there's a surrender
Of lips that start to quiver
And bodies to entwine
In soft, seductive moonshine!
To delicately balance
The ups and downs of romance
In seasons of suspicion
May take an intermission
Or maybe an omission
For stories to go on
It all depends on chances!
Qasem Ghazanfar
Feb. 26, 1994
Copyright © Abul Ghazanfar | Year Posted 2016
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