Abbas Foroughi Bastami (1798-1857 AD)
Ghazal #9
you’ve
never left my heart for me to seek you
you’ve
never been hidden for me to find you
you’ve
never been absent for me to ask for presence
you’ve
never grown concealed for me to unveil you
you
put a hundred thousand faces on display so that I
can
have a hundred thousand faces to see you
after
much perseverance my eyes became mirrors
so
with a single observance I can reveal you
examine
your form in the mirror of my eyes
from
the transcendent realm I will inform you
I
hope you’ll roam the harem and covenant drunk
so
I’ll make a Qibla-facing fearful Muslim out of you
I
want to remove the mask from your face one given night
form
the sun of Ka’ba, the moon of the church from you
should
they offer me the Tuba Tree and the Cedar of the seventh heaven
in
the blink of an eye, I’ll sacrifice it all to the tall stature of you
the
journey of love becomes beautiful each time
that
I lay eyes on the beautiful countenance of you
I’ve
grown disgraced in this world from the craze of my love
I’m
afraid god forbid I’ll be the source of disgrace for you
with
your coquettish ensemble you pass by my quarters
I’ll
make a queue forming officer of the King from you
to
the court of his majesty, Nasiruddin Shah the sovereign I go
from
his service, I’ll make Alexander the Great from you
Foroughi,
your poem gained honor from the name of the King
only
fair to make the king and sovereign of the poets from you
Amir Khusrow Dehlavi (1253-1325 AD)
Ghazal 482:
this
world won’t budge with force, cry not, what can one do?
if
you clash with a fellow human, what can one do?
I’ve
decided to sacrifice my soul for you my love
if
you’re indifferent to our connection, what can one do?
the
only remedy to an aching heart is patience
if
the heart is impatient and relentless, what can one do?
if
the blade of her separation strikes your pupil
and
bleeds your heart dry from tears, what can one do?
I
do not take a single breath without thinking of you
my
beloved. if you don’t keep me in mind then what can one do?
if
the common folk help the needy, its because they can
and
if they can’t afford to help what can one do?
the
soul seeps into your workmanship O heartless Khusrow
and
if you’re oblivious to such things, what can one do?
Khashayar Mohammadi is a queer, Iranian born, Toronto-based Poet, Writer, Translator and Photographer. He is the author of poetry chapbooks Moe’s Skin by ZED press 2018, Dear Kestrel by knife | fork | book 2019 and Solitude is an Acrobatic Act by above/ground press 2020. His debut poetry collection Me, You, Then Snow is forthcoming with Gordon Hill Press.