Thoughtful

Speak such words, losing the ego of the mind; They soothe others, and grant coolness to the self.

They call life the night of pain, burning, and sorrow, but you are its dawn, and I am its call to prayer.

If in my heart no blood remains, then what can be so strange?Each finger writhes, a fish beyond its watery range.

A worldly soul loves only worldly ties,And truth-seers, they only despise.

My ears have burst from listening to lore,Yet, Akha, no Brahman-knowledge came to my core.

Each movement, each state, depends here, upon a sign, By their signal alone I walked, by their signal alone I stand.

To leave this lane of yours is truly not difficult, but what will you say when you hear? It's just that thought that keeps me standing.

This ocean's boundless grace, and the joy of drinking its air to the full,I keep on walking, yet it feels as though I stand upon the shore.

I've seen many, 'Ghayal', hurled from this very peak, For but a moment, I've simply come to stand upon this minaret.

Don't ask who took revenge, and when, in life? Whenever the time was right, everyone took revenge.

In life, they would dismiss me from the gathering, Let me see now that I've died, who lifts me up?

To whom shall I narrate this lament, this yearning to express? My heart's the ledger, where ruby tongues keep tally of all they could be.

Alas, God forbid! Him, and such enmity?O shamefaced longing, what thought possesses thee?

Whether love is in the veil, or beauty is in the veil, Either reveal yourself, or reveal me.

O innocent heart, what has befallen you?Ultimately, what is the cure for this pain?

You, with your tresses' adorned display,I, with thoughts that stretch far away.

My beloved asked, 'How do senses take their flight?'Seeing my rapture, the wind blew, 'Thus, with all its might!'

My strength, a tale on the wind; my thoughts, ever fire-breeding,O grief, you are still fire; O heart, you remain quite raw.

What bond connects that coquettish glance with the brow?It's surely an arrow, yet its bow is somehow new.

My love has become a thought, a dream that went to rest; the soul's journey waits, whether it be morning or evening.

We have seen the cruelties and witnessed the betrayals; Was it better that we saw all your flaws?

Then is the tears' weighty pride justified,When pieces of the heart in blood-laden eyes appear.

Do not keep this mirror so carefully, do not save it from breaking, For in the eyes of the maker, the broken mirror is the most precious thing.

Speak words like this, losing the self's conceit; which cools others, and gives coolness to the self.

O heart, gently know, all things take time to bloom. Though the gardener waters a hundred pots, the fruit comes with the season's room.

In the world, there is no enemy, for one whose heart is cool and tranquil. Cast away this ego, and everyone will show compassion.

Speak such words, losing the self's ego, That cool the minds of others, and cool the self too.

In the world, there is no enemy, for those whose hearts are cool. Please cast away this ego, and may everyone be kind.

When the mind craves enjoyment, and the taste is desired, If the nose is filled to the brim, what can be offered as grace?

High waters cannot remain, they settle down below. For those who are low, let them drink enough; for the high, let them thirst.