Awargi
ye dil ye pagal dil mera, kyon bujh gaya aawargi
is dasht mein ik shahar tha, vo kya hua aawargi...
kal shab mujhe be-shakl si, aawaaz ne chaunka diya
main ne kaha tu kaun hai, usne kahaa aawargi...
ik ajnabi jhonke ne jab, pucha mere gam ka sabab
seheran' ki bheegi ret par, main ne likha aawargi...
Ye dard ki tanhaaiyaan, ye dasht ka veeran safar
hum log to uktaa gaye, apni sunaa aawargi...
logon bhalaa uss shahar mei, kaise jiyenge hum jahaan
ho jurm tanhaa sochnaa, lekin sazaa aawaargi...
- Ghulam ALi

Daisies

At evening when I go to bed
I see the stars shine overhead;
They are the little daisies white
That dot the meadow of the Night.

And often while I'm dreaming so,
Across the sky the Moon will go;
It is a lady, sweet and fair,
Who comes to gather daisies there.

For, when at morning I arise,
There's not a star left in the skies;
She's picked them all and dropped them down
Into the meadows of the town.

- Evaleen Stein

Autumn
this sun-kissed air, o' so warm
these flowers with so dark a hue
what's filling up this world with magic
is it the autumn or is it you...
this gush of spirits in the veins
this pearlish glow in every dew
these daisies scattered everywhere
it's not the autumn, I know it's you...

Me and My Rainshadow

And where I end the wind begins,
the me you know is just my rainshadow...

Belly of the sky has split the gates of rain open
yet I linger with by finger on the beach
and the black wind blows for me alone
and this moment is a stone
so its sinking out of reach

I pull the chain to drain
the color from the sun when day is done
and ride beside the evening
with my arms around the moon
I hear the lonely laundry hiss
and listing letters on the line
the words I am someone

And where I end the wind begins,
the me you know is just my rainshadow...

De hava da jeevan saahnu

De hava da jeevan saahnu,
Sada khoj vich raheeye.

Har dam talab sajan di kareeye,
ThaNDHe kadi na paeeye.
JaNgal gaaheeye, retaR vaaheeye,
Naal pahaaRaaN khaheeye.
Ikko saahe bhajde jaaeeye,
Kise paRa na laheeye.
Dekh mulaaim sej phulaaN di,
Dharna maar na baheeye.
Sau raNgaaN de vichoN laNgh ke
Phir vi beraNg raheeye.
Je koi bulbul haakaaN maare
Kan vich uNgalaN daeeye.
Je koi kaNDa palla pakaRe,
CHaDeeye te nhas paeeye.

De hava da jeevan saahnu,
Sada khoj vich raheeye.

- old Punjabi Sufi creation

The Lesser Celandine
There is a Flower, the Lesser Celandine,
That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain;
And, the first moment that the sun may shine,
Bright as the sun himself, 'tis out again!
When hailstones have been falling, swarm on swarm,
Or blasts the green field and the trees distressed,
Oft have I seen it muffled up from harm,
In close self-shelter, like a Thing at rest.
But lately, one rough day, this Flower I passed,
And recognized it, though an altered form,
Now standing forth an offering to the blast,
And buffeted at will by rain and storm.
I stopped, and said, with inly-muttered voice,
"It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold:
This neither is its courage nor its choice,
But its necessity in being old."
The sunshine may not cheer it, nor the dew;
It cannot help itself in its decay;
Stiff in its members, withered, changed of hue."
And, in my spleen, I smiled that it was grey.
To be a Prodigal's Favourite -then, worse truth,
A Miser's Pensioner -behold our lot!
O Man, that from thy fair and shining youth
Age might but take the things Youth needed not!

My heart leaps up when I behold,
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began,
So is it now I am a man,
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
- William Wordsworth