JAVID NAMA [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

اینجــــا یک کتابخانه دیجیتالی است

با بیش از 100000 منبع الکترونیکی رایگان به زبان فارسی ، عربی و انگلیسی

JAVID NAMA [Electronic resources] - نسخه متنی

Muhammad Iqbal

| نمايش فراداده ، افزودن یک نقد و بررسی
افزودن به کتابخانه شخصی
ارسال به دوستان
جستجو در متن کتاب
تنظیمات قلم


اندازه قلم

+ - پیش فرض

حالت نمایش

روز نیمروز شب
جستجو در لغت نامه
لیست موضوعات
افزودن یادداشت جدید


The Repentance of
the coquettish Dancing-Girl


Ancient wine and
youthful beloved are-nothing;
for men of true vision
the houris of Paradise are-nothing.
Whatever you know as
firm and enduring passes away,
mountain and desert,
land, sea and shore are-nothing.
The science of the
Westerners, the philosophy of the Easterners
are all idol-houses,
and the visiting of idols yields-nothing.
Think upon Self, and
pass not fearfully through this desert,
for you are, while the
substance of both worlds is—nothing
On the road which I
hewed out with the point of my eyelash
station and caravan and
shifting sands are-nothing.
Transcend the unseen,
for this doubt and surmise are nothing;
to be in the world and
to escape from the world-that is. Something!
The Paradise that some
God grants unto you is nothing;
when Paradise is the
reward of your labours-that is something.
Do you seek repose for
your soul? The soul’s repose is nothing;
the tear shed in sorrow
for your companions-that is something.
The wine-drenched eye,
the temptress glance and the song
are all fair, but
sweeter than these-there is something.
The cheek’s beauty
lives for a moment, in a moment is no more;
the beauty of action
and fine ideals-that is something.

The Dancing-Girl

Give not occasion for
conturbation to this restless heart;
add one or two curls
more to my twisted tress.
In my breast is such a
lightning-flash of revelation from you,
I have yielded the
bitterness of expectation to the moon and the sun.
The joy of God’s
presence founded in this world idolatry’s wont;
love ever eludes the
soul that is full of hope.
So that with carefree
heart I may play a new melody
give back again to the
meadow the true bird of the meadow.
You have granted me a
lofty nature; release the shackle from my foot
that I may bestow a
prince’s robe upon your sackcloth.
If the axe struck
against the stone, what cause of talk is that?
Love can carry upon its
back a whole mountain-range!

/ 66