The heart again excited:”O’ God! O’God! ”
The night passed, and without coming dawn, here, another night
Tears flew down from eyelashes, ineffectively
So I felt sorrow for the fall- down of stars
I saw the manner of the wise-men of our time
Our mad was the most polite one
Without you, I imagined the Paradise
It was a death, visiting a fever
I am ashamed unto the waiting custom
I gave, but the ghost that I didn’t have
O, drinkers, there is a message on the edge-line of the wine-cup
The messenger came from the territory of natural disposition
Don’t expect feeling ashamed from statesmen
Where dignity comes, morality leaves
Beware of leaving the honour
Whenever you request anything from anyone
I tried to reach to an ear like a speech
I heard from all, but no one heard from me
It is examined: the less one has
The more one is comfortable
Beedil, I didn’t meet the reality
I got the mirror, but at night
By Beedil, translated by Asef Fekrat
* Beedil, Abdul –Qader(d.1755 CE) is the greatest poet of Hindi School in Persian Poetry. Here you read a translation of one of Beedil’s odes.
