Best Urdu Poetry

THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS

2008-11-17T18:42:00.000-08:00

THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS

THOU art confused, my beloved, at, seeing the thousandfold union
Shown in this flowery troop, over the garden dispers'd; any a name dost thou hear assign'd; one after another
Falls on thy list'ning ear, with a barbarian sound. None resembleth another, yet all their forms have a likeness;
Therefore, a mystical law is by the chorus proclaim'd; Yes, a sacred enigma! Oh, dearest friend, could I only
Happily teach thee the word, which may the mystery solve! Closely observe how the plant, by little and little progressing,
Step by step guided on, changeth to blossom and fruit! First from the seed it unravels itself, as soon as the silent
Fruit-bearing womb of the earth kindly allows Its escape, And to the charms of the light, the holy, the ever-in-motion,
Trusteth the delicate leaves, feebly beginning to shoot. Simply slumber'd the force in the seed; a germ of the future,
Peacefully lock'd in itself, 'neath the integument lay, Leaf and root, and bud, still void of colour, and shapeless;
Thus doth the kernel, while dry, cover that motionless life. Upward then strives it to swell, in gentle moisture confiding,
And, from the night where it dwelt, straightway ascendeth to light. Yet still simple remaineth its figure, when first it appeareth;
And 'tis a token like this, points out the child 'mid the plants. Soon a shoot, succeeding it, riseth on high, and reneweth,
Piling-up node upon node, ever the primitive form; Yet not ever alike: for the following leaf, as thou seest,
Ever produceth itself, fashioned in manifold ways. Longer, more indented, in points and in parts more divided,
Which. all-deform'd until now, slept in the organ below, So at length it attaineth the noble and destined perfection,
Which, in full many a tribe, fills thee with wondering awe. Many ribb'd and tooth'd, on a surface juicy and swelling,
Free and unending the shoot seemeth in fullness to be; Yet here Nature restraineth, with powerful hands, the formation,
And to a perfecter end, guideth with softness its growth, Less abundantly yielding the sap, contracting the vessels,
So that the figure ere long gentler effects doth disclose. Soon and in silence is check'd the growth of the vigorous branches,
And the rib of the stalk fuller becometh in form. Leafless, however, and quick the tenderer stem then up-springeth,
And a miraculous sight doth the observer enchant. Ranged in a circle, in numbers that now are small, and now countless,
Gather the smaller-sized leaves, close by the side of their like. Round the axis compress'd the sheltering calyx unfoldeth,
And, as the perfectest type, brilliant-hued coronals forms. Thus doth Nature bloom, in glory still nobler and fuller,
Showing, in order arranged, member on member uprear'd. Wonderment fresh dost thou feel, as soon as the stem rears the flower
Over the scaffolding frail of the alternating leaves. But this glory is only the new creation's foreteller,
Yes, the leaf with its hues feeleth the hand all divine, And on a sudden contracteth itself; the tenderest figures
Twofold as yet, hasten on, destined to blend into one. Lovingly now the beauteous pairs are standing together,
Gather'd in countless array, there where the altar is raised. Hymen hovereth o'er them, and scents delicious and mighty
Stream forth their fragrance so sweet, all things enliv'ning around. Presently, parcell'd out, unnumber'd germs are seen swelling,
Sweetly conceald in the womb, where is made perfect the fruit. Here doth Nature close the ring of her forces eternal;
Yet doth a new one, at once, cling to the one gone before, So that the chain be prolonged for ever through all generations,
And that the whole may have life, e'en as enjoy'd by each part. Now, my beloved one, turn thy gaze on the many-hued thousands
Which, confusing no more, gladden the mind as they wave. Every plant unto thee proclaimeth the laws everlasting,
Every flowered speaks louder and louder to thee; But if thou here canst decipher the mystic words of the goddess,
Everywhere will they be seen, e'en though the features are changed. Creeping insects may linger, the eager butterfly hasten,--
Plastic and forming, may man change e'en the figure decreed! Oh, then, bethink thee, as well, how out of the germ of acquaintance,
Kindly intercourse sprang, slowly unfolding its leaves; Soon how friendship with might unveil'd itself in our bosoms,
And how Amor, at length, brought forth blossom and fruit Think of the manifold ways wherein Nature hath lent to our feelings,
Silently giving them birth, either the first or the last! Yes, and rejoice in the present day! For love that is holy
Seeketh the noblest of fruits,--that where the thoughts are the same, Where the opinions agree,--that the pair may, in rapt contemplation,
Lovingly blend into one,--find the more excellent world.

THE GOD AND THE BAYADERE

2008-11-17T18:39:00.000-08:00

THE GOD AND THE BAYADERE

MAHADEVA,* Lord of earth
For the sixth time comes below,
As a man of mortal birth,--
Like him, feeling joy and woe.
Hither loves he to repair,
And his power behind to leave;
If to punish or to spare,
Men as man he'd fain perceive.

And when he the town as a trav'ller hath seen,

Observing the mighty, regarding the mean,

He quits it, to go on his journey, at eve.
He was leaving now the place,
When an outcast met his eyes,--
Fair in form, with painted face,--
Where some straggling dwellings rise.
"Maiden, hail!"--"Thanks! welcome here!
Stay!--I'll join thee in the road.'
"Who art thou?"--"A Bayadere,
And this house is love's abode."

The cymbal she hastens to play for the dance,

Well skill'd in its mazes the sight to entrance,

Then by her with grace is the nosegay bestow'd.
Then she draws him, as in play,
O'er the threshold eagerly:
"Beauteous stranger, light as day
Thou shalt soon this cottage see.
I'll refresh thee, if thou'rt tired,
And will bathe thy weary feet;
Take whate'er by thee's desired,
Toying, rest, or rapture sweet."--

She busily seeks his feign'd suff'rings to ease;

Then smiles the Immortal;

with pleasure he sees

That with kindness a heart so corrupted can beat.
And he makes her act the part
Of a slave; he's straight obey'd.
What at first had been but art,
Soon is nature in the maid.
By degrees the fruit we find,
Where the buds at first obtain;
When obedience fills the mind,
Love will never far remain.

But sharper and sharper the maiden to prove,

The Discerner of all things below and above,

Feigns pleasure, and horror, and maddening pain.
And her painted cheeks he kisses,
And his vows her heart enthrall;
Feeling love's sharp pangs and blisses,
Soon her tears begin to fall.
At his feet she now must sink,
Not with thoughts of lust or gain,--
And her slender members shrink,
And devoid of power remain.

And so the bright hours with gladness prepare Their dark,

pleasing veil of a texture so fair,

And over the couch softly, tranquilly reign.
Late she falls asleep, thus bless'd,--
Early wakes, her slumbers fled,
And she finds the much-loved guest
On her bosom lying dead.
Screaming falls she on him there,
But, alas, too late to save!
And his rigid limbs they bear
Straightway to their fiery grave.

Then hears she the priests and the funeral song,

Then madly she runs, and she severs the throng:

"Why press tow'rd the pile thus? Why scream thus, and rave?"
Then she sinks beside his bier,
And her screams through air resound:
"I must seek my spouse so dear,
E'en if in the grave he's bound.
Shall those limbs of grace divine
Fall to ashes in my sight?
Mine he was! Yes, only mine!
Ah, one single blissful night!"

The priests chaunt in chorus:

"We bear out the old, When long they've been weary,

and late they've grown cold:

We bear out the young, too, so thoughtless and light.
"To thy priests' commands give ear!
This one was thy husband ne'er;
Live still as a Bayadere,
And no duty thou need'st share.
To deaths silent realms from life,
None but shades attend man's frame,
With the husband, none but wife,--
That is duty, that is fame.

Ye trumpets, your sacred lament haste to raise Oh,

welcome, ye gods, the bright lustre of days!

Oh, welcome to heaven the youth from the flame!"
Thus increased her torments are
By the cruel, heartless quire;
And with arms outstretching far
Leaps she on the glowing pyre.
But the youth divine outsprings
From the flame with heav'nly grace,
And on high his flight he wings,
While his arms his love embrace.

In the sinner repentant the Godhead feels joy;

Immortals delight thus their might to employ.

Lost children to raise to a heavenly place.

Al-Fatih Ke Jawano

2008-11-17T18:38:00.001-08:00

Moot Ka Nisha

2008-11-17T18:37:00.000-08:00

Loh-e-Qalam

2008-11-17T18:36:00.002-08:00

Soch

2008-11-17T18:36:00.001-08:00

Jawabey Shikwaha-1

2008-11-17T18:35:00.003-08:00

Jawabey Shikwaha-2

2008-11-17T18:35:00.001-08:00

Jawabey Shikwaha-3

2008-11-17T18:34:00.000-08:00

Jawabey Shikwaha-4

2008-11-17T18:33:00.000-08:00

Shikwaha-1

2008-11-17T18:32:00.004-08:00

Shikwaha-2

2008-11-17T18:32:00.003-08:00

Shikwaha-3

2008-11-17T18:32:00.001-08:00

Shikwaha-4

2008-11-17T18:29:00.000-08:00

Na Tha Kuch Tu Khuda Tha

2008-11-17T18:28:00.001-08:00

Ibn-e-Marium Howa Kure Koi

2008-11-17T18:26:00.000-08:00

Tere Dais ka kya hall sunao..!

2008-11-17T13:03:00.000-08:00

Kahon Kis say Mien k kya hai!

2008-11-17T13:01:00.000-08:00

Yeh Na Thi Humari Qismat

2008-11-17T13:00:00.001-08:00

Mujhko Tery Etaab Nay Mara

2008-11-17T12:57:00.000-08:00

Zindagi Say Darty Ho?

2008-11-17T12:55:00.000-08:00

Bohat Door Hai Dost..

2008-11-17T12:54:00.000-08:00

Aye Dil Humien Itna Bta..

2008-11-17T12:48:00.001-08:00

Baadal Bhe Barasty Hain..

2008-11-17T12:47:00.000-08:00

Shaam Suraj Ko..

2008-11-17T12:46:00.000-08:00

Dosti Ker Lo..

2008-11-17T12:45:00.000-08:00

Baad Mudat challo kuch tu likha hai..

2008-11-17T12:44:00.000-08:00

Bhool Jaiyen Tu ajj Behtar hai

2008-11-17T12:43:00.000-08:00

Dukh Fasana Nahi Kay Tujh Say Kahien

2008-11-17T12:41:00.001-08:00

Hum Jo Tareek Raahon mien Mary Gaye

2008-11-12T06:51:00.000-08:00