This Love is not a River…

Two of my favorite Fado songs, by two of my favorite singers, Cristina Branco and Carminho:

Translation:
This love is not a river
It has the vastness of the sea
The green dance of the waves
Sobbing in my eyes.
I tried to forget the words
Unspoken between us
But hanging over the silence
On the shores of our voice
I tried to forget your eyes
That do not know how to read mine
But in them is born the daybreak
That dawns on the earth and the heavens
I tried to forget your name
Pluck it from my thoughts
But it returns at every instant
Entwined in the wind.
I tried to see my image
But it was yours that I saw
In my mirror, for I bear
Your flat eyes.
This love is not a river
It has abysses like the sea
And the black mantle of the waves
Shrouds me in blackness
This love is not a river
It has the vastness of the sea
 
Original:
Este amor não é um rio
Tem a vastidão do mar
A dança verde das ondas
Soluça no meu olhar
Tentei esquecer as palavras
Nunca ditas entre nós
Mas pairam sobre o silencio
Nas margens da nossa voz
Tentei esquecer os teus olhos
Que não sabem ler nos meus
Mas neles nasce a alvorada
Que amanhece a terra e os céus
Tentei esquecer o teu nome
Arrancá-lo ao pensamento
Mas regressa a todo o instante
Entrelaçado no vento
Tentei ver a minha imagem
Mas foi a tua que vi
No meu espelho, porque trago
Os olhos rasos de ti
Este amor não é um rio
Tem abismos como o mar
E o manto negro das ondas
Cobre-me de negro o olhar
Este amor não é um rio
Tem a vastidão do mar
https://lyricstranslate.com/en/fado-perdi%C3%A7%C3%A3o-perdition-fado.html

Translation:
I wrote your name on the wind
convinced that I was writing it
on the page of forgetfulness
that in the wind
it would get lost
On the page of forgetfulness
that in the wind it would get lost
And on seeing it go
covered in dust
I considered my heart free
of the bonds of your love
I considered my heart free
of the bonds of your love
Poor me!
I never even thought
that just like me
the wind would fall in love
with that name that is yours
The wind would fall in love
with that name that is yours
As the wind stirs up, so does my pain get stirred up
I want to forget you, believe me
But there is always more wind
I want to forget you
but there is always more wind
Rumi
Translation:
Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love.
By my passion of love for Love
I have ground sweet as sugar.
O furious Wind, I am only a straw before you;
How could I know where I will be blown next?
Whoever claims to have made a pact with Destiny
Reveals himself a liar and a fool;
What is any of us but a straw in a storm?
How could anyone make a pact with a hurricane?
God is working everywhere his massive Resurrection;
How can we pretend to act on our own?
In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack;
Sometimes Love hoists me into the air,
Sometimes Love flings me into the air,
Love swings me round and round His head;
I have no peace, in this world or any other.
The lovers of God have fallen in a furious river;
They have surrendered themselves to Love’s commands.
Like mill wheels they turn, day and night, day and night,
Constantly turning and turning, and crying out.
Original:
If I could see you I would die
and if I died, then I’d see you
I can’t stop, even though I’ve tried
from staring, drowning, in your eyes
Without you all I see are lies
and so my beautiful, that’s why
approaching you, I’m terrified
and yet, still more scared am I
of losing sight of you, my life
In death, I see you with your eyes
awake, you peer out within mine
your love swallowed the whole world up
and burned down my soul and my mind
even my love burned up in yours
it ate up all space and all time
so there’s no inside nor outside
there’s just your side, nothing to find
nothing to say, free, pay no mind
hearing no ears, seeing no eyes
all knots and thoughts simply unwind
as your sword falls, gentler than kind
there’s no one left to realize
Just your dark beauty, shining bright
in each and every lover’s sight
in every tale, in every plight
in all that’s wrong and all that’s right
beneath the depths, above the heights
through all the days, over the nights
you hold my soul closer than tight
and unseen, you perceive the sights
Love’s river floods mine out of sight
Love’s flames burn bodies into light
Love’s kiss turns death back into life
Love conquers all by its sweet might
And so whence my despair or fright?
when all my pains and all delights
are but you, your love and love bites
that bear aloft my soul’s fair kite
and put to shame all that I write

More fado…


portugalwoman

 

 

 

Translation:

Lady of Nazareth, pray for me,
I am also a fisherman walking on the sea.
Off life’s dock in endless waves,
I’ve seen my little boat of dreams sinking perpetually.
My nets cast with confidence,
I hauled in only disappointments on a bad sea.
I lost the rudder of hope,
I can not row well.
Lady of Nazareth, pray for me.


Original:

Senhora da Nazaré, rogai por mim,
Também sou um pescador que anda no mar.
Ao largo da vida aproei nas vagas sem fim,
Vi o meu barquito de sonhos sempre a naufragar.
As minhas redes lancei com confiança,
Colhi só desilusões num mar ruim.
Perdi o leme da esperança,
Eu não sei remar assim.
Senhora da Nazaré, rogai por mim.

 

 

Oshiokuri_Hato_Tsusen_no_Zu

 

 

Translation:

This flock of seagulls
Plays on each tide
That sea of still water
that feeds my faith

The boats will come
The boats will go
This whole pier is a world
This whole pier is a world
Which I don’t wat to flee

On the edge of the pier, whoever sees me already knows me
I am like this so you won’t miss me
It is the ocean from which you will come
on the edge of the pier, I have my destiny now
Always awaiting the time when
you will return one day

Some think I am not right
But I don’t really care
I am not coming here
So that you will come back faster

But it has given me this habit
That I have not lost till today
by the sea, I believe
by the sea, I believe
That I am closer to you

 

Original:

Esse bando de gaivotas
Brincando em cada maré
Esse mar de água parada
Que alimenta a minha fé

Os barcos que vão chegar
Os barcos que vão partir
Todo este cais é um mundo
Todo este cais é um mundo
Donde não quero fugir

À beira do cais, quem me vê já me conhece
Sou a tal que não se esquece
Que é do mar que tu virás
À beira do cais, tenho o meu destino agora
Estou sempre à espera da hora
Em que um dia voltarás

Há quem não ache acertado
Mas a mim, pouco me interessa
Que não é por vir aqui
Que tu voltas mais depressa

Mas ficou-me este costume
Que ainda hoje não perdi
Junto ao mar, eu acredito
Junto ao mar, eu acredito
Que estou mais perto de ti

 

waves

 

 

Japanese_Woodblock-moonlight

 

The Broken Mirror

Translation:

With his whip, the wind
Shatters the mirror of the lake.
In me more violent was
The damage

Because the wind in passing
Whispered your name
and after murmuring,
Left me.

So rapidly it passed
Not knowing it had destroyed me
The heartbreak in which I am
So fixed.

But its passing
In the glass of the lake
cutting my image
Enthralls me.

The crystal liquid
From my eyes without you,
In vain I asked the gale,

In order to break
The mirror, that mourned me
I remained with a tearless face

O my eyes without you, without you
More violent within me was
The wind.

 


eschergroup

Original:

Com o seu chicote, o vento
Quebra o espelho do lago.
Em mim foi mais violento
O estrago

Porque o vento ao passar
Murmurou o teu nome
Depois de o murmurar,
Deixou-me.

Tão rápido passou
Nem soube destruir-me
Nas magoas em que sou
Tão firme.

Mas a sua passagem
Em vidro recortava
No lago a minha imagem
De escrava.

Ò liquido cristal
Dos meus olhos sem ti,
Em vão um vendaval,
Pedi,

Para que se quebrasse
O espelho que me enluta
E me ficasse a face
Enxuta.

Ai meus olhos sem ti sem ti
Em mim foi mais violento, o vento

From: http://lyricstranslate.com/en/espelho-quebrado-broken-mirror.html#ixzz3ZZsXMCwe

img_suzuki004_zoom

 

Translation:

Perhaps one day you will tell me what you want,
Perhaps you would not want to say it anyway,
Perhaps you will pass a hand through my hair,
Perhaps you may not think of me waiting for it.

Perhaps, this being so, it would be better,
Missing our meeting by a hair,
Perhaps you will not pamper me as I want,
Perhaps we don’t know our own hearts

But I’m not certain, that you could give responses.
I live only for repeated whispers,
Of deceit of the soul and hunger of the senses.
Perhaps it’s cruel, perhaps, perhaps.

If you give nothing, then, I will give you nothing
In this to-ing and fro-ing that we keep up,
And if our real longings are contrived,
Perhaps I might not know who you are but I know who I am.

If you give nothing, then, I will give you nothing
In this to-ing and fro-ing that we keep up,
And if our real longings are contrived,
Perhaps I might not know who you are but I know who I am.

 

Original:

Talvez digas um dia o que me queres
Talvez não queiras afinal dizê-lo
Talvez passes a mão no meu cabelo
Talvez eu pense em ti talvez me esperes

Talvez, sendo isto assim, fosse melhor
Falhar-se o nosso encontro por um triz
Talvez não me afagasses como eu quis
Talvez não nos soubéssemos de cor

Mas não sei bem, respostas não mas dês
Vivo só de murmúrios repetidos
De enganos de alma e fome dos sentidos
Talvez seja cruel, talvez, talvez

Se nada dás, porém, nada te dou
Neste vaivém que sempre nos sustenta
E se a própria saudade nos inventa
Não sei talvez quem és mas sei quem sou

Se nada dás, porém, nada te dou
Neste vaivém que sempre nos sustenta
E se a própria saudade nos inventa
Não sei talvez quem és mas sei quem sou

From http://lyricstranslate.com/en/talvez-perhaps.html#ixzz3ZZrnuw5F

 

Translation:

Damn sheet, obey
The hands that you do not deserve
The poet’s lies
All the blackness of the strokes
Describing a thousand hugs,
Stories of an open door

Only you know, white sheet
The art of making airtight
This sap the truth
He told me stories of love
This poor pretender
He made me believe that I longed for him

And, oh sheet surrendered to
the hand which in farewell
Says goodbye without parting
Will tell everyone
That he who pretends what he really feels is
My lost poet

 

hfzdiwan

Original:

Folha maldita, obedeces
Às mãos que nem tu mereces
Às mentiras do poeta
Toda a negrura dos traços
Descreveram mil abraços
Histórias de uma porta aberta

Só tu sabes, folha branca
A arte de tornar estanque
Essa seiva da verdade
Contou-me histórias de amor
Esse pobre fingidor
Fez-me crer que tem saudade

E tu, oh folha rendida
À mão que na despedida
Diz adeus sem ter partido
Vai dizer a toda a gente
Que finge o que deveras sente
O meu poeta perdido

 

 

Translation:

Perhaps the same road
Is darker now,
Perhaps the sun in its lonesome wandering
Is chasing after the cold

In silence a heart
Awakens the empty house,
It doesn’t allow the illusion
To feign the pain it carried

Yet I insist upon showing
That love disappears
From a life that is waking up
From a life that is falling asleep

Perhaps the light doesn’t want
To say anything to the one who left
Perhaps in its own way
It’s saying goodbye to what it felt

milletfieldsunmoon

Original:

Talvez o mesmo caminho
Seja agora mais sombrio,
Talvez por andar sozinho
Corre o sol atrás do frio.

Em silêncio um coração
Acorda a casa vazia,
Não permite a ilusão
Fingir a dor que trazia.

Porem insisto em mostrar
Que o amor desaparece
Numa vida a despertar
Noutra vida que adormece.

Talvez a lua não queira
Dizer nada a quem partiu
Talvez à sua maneira
Diga adeus ao que sentiu.
From:  http://lyricstranslate.com/en/uma-vida-noutra-vida-life-other-life.html#ixzz3ZZqSJMhT

 

 

women in zigzagwell

Like a Candle…

from Figs and Thistles: First Fig

BY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY

My candle burns at both ends;
   It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
   It gives a lovely light!

 

Source: Poetry (June 1918).

 

 

Hafez

Translation:

In faithfulness to your love, I am famous like the candle
In the street of the rends, I burn all night like the candle
Day and night, sleep slips away, from my grief-stricken eyes
Sick from separation, my red eyes weep like the candle
The mountain of my patience melted like wax in your grief’s hand
Since I began to burn and melt in your love like the candle
My string of patience’s cut by the scissors of your hair
But still, in your love’s fire, I am smiling like the candle
If the horse of my rosy tear had not been so swift
How could my secret shine out everywhere just like the candle?
As ever, my poor desperate heart is occupied with you
Shedding tears of water and of flame just like the candle
Without your world-adorning beauty, my day is like the night
Within your love’s perfection, I am fading like the candle
Honor me with union for one night, o wild one
and with your visit, brighten up my house like the candle
Like the morning, your coming is just a breath away
Show your face, so I can give my soul up like the candle
In exile’s night, send me a promise of union, or else
With this fire, I’ll burn down the whole world like the candle
It’s amazing how your love lit Hafez all on fire
How can I quench my heart’s fire with tears, like the candle?

 

 

Original:

در وفای عشق تو مشهور خوبانم چو شمـع
شب نشین کوی سربازان و رندانم چو شمع
روز و شب خوابم نمیآید به چشم غم پرست
بـس که در بیماری هجر تو گریانم چو شمع
کوه صبرم نرم شد چون موم در دست غمـت
تا در آب و آتش عشقت گدازانم چو شـمـع
رشتـه صـبرم به مقراض غمت ببریده شد
همـچـنان در آتش مهر تو سوزانم چو شمع
گر کـمیت اشـک گلگونم نـبودی گرم رو
کی شدی روشن به گیتی راز پنهانم چو شمع
در میان آب و آتش همچنان سرگرم توسـت
این دل زار نزار اشـک بارانـم چو شـمـع
بی جمال عالم آرای تو روزم چون شب است
با کمال عشق تو در عین نقصانم چو شمـع
سرفرازم کن شبی از وصـل خود ای نازنین
تا مـنور گردد از دیدارت ایوانم چو شـمـع
همـچو صبحم یک نفس باقیست با دیدار تو
چـهره بنما دلبرا تا جان برافشانم چو شمع
در شـب هجران مرا پروانه وصلی فرسـت
ور نه از دردت جهانی را بسوزانم چو شمـع
آتـش مـهر تو را حافظ عجب در سر گرفت

siyavash

Ibn al-Fāriḍ

 

If not for my sighs, these tears would drown me
If not for these tears, my sighs would scorch me

 

ولولا زفيري ٔاغرقتني ٔادمعي
ولولا دموعي ٔاحرقتني زفرتي

Abraham_ready_to_sacrifice_his_son,_Ishmael_(top);_Abraham_cast_into_fire_by_Nimrod_(bottom)

John Donne

 

Hero and Leander

 

Both robb’d of air, we both lie in one ground ;
Both whom one fire had burnt, one water drown’d

 

Rumi

A candle is made to become entirely flame.
In that annihilating moment
it has no shadow.
It is nothing but a tongue of light
describing a refuge.
Look at this
just-finishing candle stub
as someone who is finally safe
from virtue and vice,
the pride and the shame
we claim from those.
(Coleman Barks’ “translation”)

 

There is a candle in the heart of man, waiting to be kindled.
In separation from the Friend, there is a cut waiting to be stitched.
O, you who are ignorant of endurance and the burning fire of love–
Love comes of its own free will, it can’t be learned in any school.

 

THE SHIP SUNK IN LOVE

Should Love’s heart rejoice unless I burn?
For my heart is Love’s dwelling.
If You will burn Your house, burn it, Love!
Who will say, ‘It’s not allowed’?
Burn this house thoroughly!
The lover’s house improves with fire.
From now on I will make burning my aim,
From now on I will make burning my aim,
for I am like the candle: burning only makes me brighter.
Abandon sleep tonight; traverse for one night
the region of the sleepless.
Look upon these lovers who have become distraught
and like moths have died in union with the One Beloved.
Look upon this ship of God’s creatures
and see how it is sunk in Love.

Mathnawi VI, 617-623
The Rumi Collection, Edited by Kabir Helminski


O light, from seeing your beauty, my soul became candle-like
Turn my fortune so I can shed myself candle-like
The promise of the morning breeze, of joining Thee day and night
Burning, yellow, shaking, crying and humble, candle-like.
Thy flowing hair, like scissors sheer my soul at its height
In this fire of separation burn me no more, candle-like.
Pearls overflowing from the sea of my eye, fill my bosom in delight
My burning heart sent its flames blazing upward, candle-like.
Solar flares set in the celestial lantern, sooth the sight
Every morn dam my tears and shed no more, candle-like.
Thy face is spring-like, thy fire sorrows fight
How long burn in this solstice of separation, candle-like?
From the memory of thy light, every night flames take flight
If only my heart’s fire would burn my soul candle-like.
How long burn thyself Shams-e Tabrizi, thy love beaming bright?
We know of nothing other than this burning, candle-like.
(trans. by Shahriar Shahriari)

 

Original:

ای منور از جمالت دیده ی جانم چو شمع
از در بختم درآ تا جان بر افشانم چو شمع

از هوای خنده ی صبح وصالت روز و شب
زرد و لرزان و گدازان زار و گریانم چو شمع

زلف چون مقراض بر كش رشته جانم ببر
بیش از این در آتش هجران مسوزانم چو شمع

آستین و دامنم پر در شد از دریای عشق
تا علم زد آتش دل از گریبانم ، چو شمع

آتش خورشید را ، در مشعل سبز فلك
هر سحر از آبگیر دیده ، بنشانم چو شمع

ای رخت نوروز عالم زآتش ، جانسوز شمع
چند سوزی در شب یلدای هجرانم چو شمع

آفتاب از خاطرم ، شعله فروزد هر شبی
آتش دل گر بسوزد ، رشته ی جانم چو شمع

چند سوزی خویشتن را شمس تبریزی ز عشق
ماورای سوختن ، كاری نمیدانم چو شمع

Ana Moura

Translation:

My eyes are two candles
Casting a sad light on my face
Your eyes are two candles
Casting a sad light on my face

Marked by the pains
Of longing and grief

When I hear the ringing of the bells
And the afternoon is coming to an end

I pray, out of longing for you
An “Our Father” for me

But you do not know how to pray
Nor how to ache with longing

Why do you disturb me so
Why do I want you so much?

For my despair you are like
The clouds that fly high

Every day I wait for you
Every day you stand me up

Original:

Os meus olhos são dois círios
Dando luz triste ao meu rosto
Os teus olhos são dois círios
Dando luz triste ao meu rosto
Marcado pelos martírios
Da saudade e do desgosto.

Quando oiço bater trindades
E a tarde já vai no fim

Eu peço às tuas saudades
Um padre nosso por mim.Mas não sabes fazer preces
Não tens saudades nem pranto

Por que é que tu me aborreces
Por que é que eu te quero tanto?

És para meu desespero
Como as nuvens que andam altas

Todos os dias te espero
Todos os dias me faltas.

 From http://lyricstranslate.com/

Maranâus

I am not happiness, but only
The tragic substance that produces it.
In the great darkness, I am a burning flambeau
And I don’t see my own light.

 

Original:

Eu não sou a alegria, mas apenas
A trágica matéria que a produz.
Na grande escuridão, sou facho a arder
E não avisto minha própria luz!

 

(Pascoaes, 1920, p.216)

 

Cristina Branco and Hafez

Cristina Branco

“Vida Triste”

Translation:

Condemned to live sad
Is he who loves much.
You, my heart, never withstood
The love that the pain inflames.

Again my tortured heart
Sought shelter in thy breast, uselessly;
No one will console the burning thirst
Nor is it is satisfied with the delights of passion.

And always, for any act,
There is a price of suffering,
Until the sweetness of the last touch
Eventually dies in regret.

And like the bodies snared
One day everything goes and there is only loneliness.
Perhaps will there be someone to kill
the fire of this damned passion?
I know love is a sin
So I  also cursed the heavens
that I was tied for life
to one who deceived me

Love never failed me
With tenderness and embraces
But freed my longings,
Never such remembered.

And always, for any act,
There is a price of suffering,
Until the sweetness of the last touch
Eventually dies in regret.

And like the bodies snared
One day everything goes and there is only loneliness.
Perhaps will there be someone to kill
the fire of this damned passion?

 

 

Original:

Condenado a viver triste
É sina de quem muito ama.
Nunca tu, meu coração, resististe
Ao amor que a dor inflama.

Mais uma vez meu torturado coração
Buscou abrigo no teu peito, inutilmente;
Não há quem lhe console a sede ardente
Nem ele se farta das delícias da paixão.

E sempre, para qualquer acto,
Há que pagar com o sofrimento,
Até que a doçura do último tacto
Acabe por morrer num lamento.

Por mais que os corpos se enlacem
Um dia tudo passa e só fica a solidão.
Haverá porventura alguém
que mate o fogo de tão maldita paixão?
Eu sei que amar é pecado
Por isso também a mim o céu castigou
Fiquei pra vida amarrado
A quem sempre me enganou

Jamais o amor me faltou
Com ternuras e afagos
Mas libertar meus anseios,
Nunca de tal se lembrou.

E sempre, para qualquer acto,
Há que pagar com o sofrimento
Até que a doçura do último tacto
Acabe por morrer num lamento.

Por mais que os corpos se enlacem,
Um dia tudo passa e só fica a solidão.
Haverá alguém capaz de matar
O fogo de tão maldita paixão?

Hafez

Translation:

I am the friend of the sweet face, and of the heart-snatching hair
I’m infatuated with the intoxicated eye and pure, unmixed wine

 

You asked, “Say one word about the secret of the covenant of Alast.”
“Once I’ve drunk two cups of wine, then I’ll tell you,” I replied.

 

I am the Paradisal Adam, but in this worldly journey
Now I’m a captive of the beauty of youth

 

In love, there is no escape from pain and suffering
I am standing like the candle, don’t try to scare me with fire

 

Shiraz is the mine of ruby lips and the quarry of beauty
Because of that, a poor jeweler like me is so distraught

 

I’ve seen so many drunken eyes in this city, I think
 I’m tipsy, although I’ve had nothing to drink

 

From all six directions, it is a city full of lovely glances
And I’ve nothing if I don’t buy all six of them

 

If Fortune should be so kind as to guide me to the Friend
Even the Houri’s hair will sweep the sweet dust from off my bed

 

Hafiz, my nature’s like a radiant, hopeful bride
But no mirror have I to see myself, and because of that I sigh

Dick Davis’ translation:

My love’s for pretty faces,
For heart-bewitching hair;
I’m crazy for good wine,
A languorous, drunk stare …

In love there’s no escaping
The burning of desire;
I stand here like a candle –
Don’t scare me with your fire.

I am a man from heaven,
But on this path I see
My love of youth and beauty
Have made a slave of me.

If Fate will help me, I
Will take myself elsewhere –
My bed will be swept clean
By some sweet houri’s hair.

Shiraz is like a mine
Of ruby lips, a store
Of loveliness … and I’m
A jeweler who’s dirt-poor.

I’ve seen so many drunk
Eyes in this town, I think
I’m drunk, although I swear
I’ve had no wine to drink.

You asked me to explain
Eternity for you –
Well certainly, when I
Have downed a drink or two.

Hafez, my nature’s like
A hopeful bride, but I
Lack mirrors to array
Myself – that’s why I sigh.

Original:

         من دوستدار روی خوش و موی دلکشم

مدهوش چشم مست و می صاف بی‌غشم

         گفتی ز سر عهد ازل یک سخن بگو

آن گه بگویمت که دو پیمانه درکشم

         من آدم بهشتیم اما در این سفر

حالی اسیر عشق جوانان مه وشم

         در عاشقی گزیر نباشد ز ساز و سوز

استاده‌ام چو شمع مترسان ز آتشم

         شیراز معدن لب لعل است و کان حسن

من جوهری مفلسم ایرا مشوشم

         از بس که چشم مست در این شهر دیده‌ام

حقا که می نمی‌خورم اکنون و سرخوشم

         شهریست پر کرشمه حوران ز شش جهت

چیزیم نیست ور نه خریدار هر ششم

         بخت ار مدد دهد که کشم رخت سوی دوست

گیسوی حور گرد فشاند ز مفرشم

         حافظ عروس طبع مرا جلوه آرزوست

آیینه‌ای ندارم از آن آه می‌کشم

Words of love…

Translation:

There are words we kiss,
As if they had mouths
Words of love of hope,
Immense love, crazy hope

Naked words that kiss you
When the night loses taste,
Words that refuse,
The walls of your sorrow.

Suddenly, colorful,
Between words without color,
Expected, unexpected
Like poetry, love.

The name of the beloved,
Revealed letter by letter,
On discarded marble
On abandoned paper.

Naked words that kiss you,
When the night loses taste,
Words that refuse,
The walls of your sorrow.

Original:

Há palavras que nos beijam,
Como se tivessem boca,
Palavras de amor de esperança,
Imenso amor, esperança louca

Palavras, nuas que beijas,
Quando a noite perde o gosto,
Palavras que se recusam,
Aos muros do teu desgosto.

Derrepente, coloridas,
Entre palavras sem cores,
Esperadas inesperadas,
Como a poesia, o amor.

O nome de quem se ama,
Letra a letra revelado,
No mármore distaído,
No papel abandonado.

Palavras nuas que beijas,
Quando a noite perde o gosto,
Palavras que se recusam,
Aos muros do teu desgosto.

 

 

Translation:
Words of love, passing over my tongue
Coming to me from you, and returning to you
If it is your will, and you are the only one who wills,
The lover will be where your splendor manifests
When he submits to you
When you love your slave
You become his beloved
And raise his station

 

Original:

 كَلامُ حًبٍّ عَن لِساني عابِرُ
مِنك أتاني وإليك راجِعُ
لَقد شِئتَ وأنت وحدك تَشاءُ
فالعاشق مجلاك حِين يَخضَعُ
عِندَما ُتحبّ عبدَك فتَصيرُ
معشوقه ومقامه ترفعُ

Source: http://adabarabiqadim.blogspot.com/

 

The certitude of my brightest love

 

Hafez: 

I have never seen a more beautiful reminder
than the words of love that linger in this turning dome

 

         از صدای سخن عشق نديدم خوشتر
  يادگاری که در اين گنبد دوار بماند

 

Cristina Branco:

 

The certitude of my brightest love

The certitude of my brightest love
I am going to light up, should there be no moonlight tomorrow
And I will gather from a firefly a lonely glow
That the good bug may forgive me for this theft

Whistling the melodies ever more beautiful
And describing the cities I’ve seen
Of men and fossils and their gestures as written
Of good and evil, peace, calm and tumult

If I am alone it is in an alley that I meet myself
I go door to door asking who saw me
If I lived there, if I was the same and at what point
My desire packed its bags and fled.

Whistling the melody ever more beautiful
The certainty of my brightest love
Of the feeling among the others the favourite
That is to see the rose with time gain colour.

Whistling the melodies ever more brilliant
As brilliant from the certainty of a love
As the ruby most precious among others
That is of tenderness alternating with ardour.

I will not deny staying thus in this beauty
Whistling the melodies ever more fleeting
It is not possible nor is it simple, for sure
But it is will that gives me what I am doing.

Translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com

As Certezas do Meu Mais Brilhante Amor

As certezas do meu mais brilhante amor
Vou acender, que amanhã não há luar
E eu colherei do pirilampo um só fulgor
Que me perdoe o bom bichinho de o roubar

Assobiando as melodias mais bonitas
E das cidades descrevendo o que já vi
Homens e fósseis e seus gestos como escritas
Do bem e do mal, a paz a calma e frenesi

Se estou sozinho é num beco que me encontro
Vou porta a porta perguntando a quem me viu
Se ali morei, se eu era o mesmo e em que ponto
O meu desejo fez as malas e fugiu

Assobiando a melodia mais bonita
A da certeza do meu mais brilhante amor
Da sensação de entre as demais a favorita
Que é ver a rosa com o tempo a ganhar cor

Assobiando as melodias mais brilhantes
Como o brilhante da certeza de um amor
Como o rubi mais precioso entre os restantes
Que é o da meiguice alternando com ardor

Não negarei ficar assim nesta beleza
Assobiando as melodias mais fugazes
Não é possível nem é simples, com certeza
Mas é vontade que me dá do que me fazes

Ibn ‘Arabi, Hallaj, and Carminho

peekouteautwindow

 

When my Beloved appears,
with what eye do I see Him?
With His eye not with mine;
for no one sees Him except Himself.

-Ibn ‘Arabi

Original:

إذا تجلى حبيبي
بأي عين تراه
بعينه لا بعيني
فما يراه سواه

 

Hallaj:

 

 

I saw my Lord with the eye of my Heart,
I said, “Who are thou?”  He answered, “Thou.”
Thus where no where hath, as from Thee,
Nor is there, as to Thee, a where.
Thous giv’st imagining no image
For it to imagine where Thou art.
Thou art He who hath filled all where,
and beyond all where.  Where art Thou then?

 

Translation: Martin Lings.  Sufi Poems

 

Original:

رَأَيـتُ رَبّـي بِـعَينِ قَلبي فَـقُلتُ مَـن أَنتَ قالَ أَنتَ

فَـلَيسَ لِـلأَينِ مِـنكَ أَيـنٌ وَلَـيسَ أَيـنٌ بِـحَيثُ أَنتَ

أَنـتَ الَّـذي حُزتَ كُلَّ أَينٍ بِـنَحوِ لا أَيـن ثـم أَنـتَ

فَـفي فَـنائي فَـنا فَـنائي وَفـي فَـنائي وُجِدتَ أَنتَ

في مَحو اِسمي وَرَسمِ جِسمي سَـأَلتُ عَـني فَـقُلتُ أَنتَ

أَنـتَ حَـياتي وَسِـرُّ قَلبي فَـحَيثُما كُـنتُ كُـنتَ أَنتَ

فَـمُـنَّ بِـالعَفوِ يـا إِلَـهي فَـلَيسَ أَرجـو سِواكَ أَنتَ

 

Carminho:

My Sweetheart

He is going to possess me
Not possess me
In some corner
It is like water flowing,
Flowing to the end,
It is so much that he wants me.
My sweetheart
My sweetheart
My home
Is where you want to live.

He is going to illuminate me
Not illuminate me
A shortcut at least.
I know that he is going to lead me
Leading softly
Along the way that I want to go.
My sweetheart
My sweetheart
My home is where you want to live.

I see my darling with his eyes
And it is with my eyes
That my darling sees me

My sweetheart
My sweetheart
My home
Is where you want to live.

Translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com

Meu namorado

Ele vai-me possuindo
Não me possuindo
Num canto qualquer
É como as águas fluindo
Fluindo até ao fim
É bem assim que ele me quer
Meu namorado
Meu namorado
Minha morada
É onde tu quiseres morar

Ele vai-me iluminando
Não iluminando
Um atalho sequer
Sei que ele vai-me guiando
Guiando de mansinho
Pelo caminho que eu quiser
Meu namorado
Meu namorado
É onde tu quiseres morar

Vejo meu bem com seus olhos
E é com meus olhos
Que o meu bem me vê

Meu namorado
Meu namorado
Minha morada
É onde tu quiseres morar

yazdcielingwhoa
Ibn ‘Arabi:
Listen, O dearly beloved!
I am the reality of the world, the centre of the circumference,
I am the parts and the whole.
I am the will established between Heaven and Earth,
I have created perception in you only in order to be the
object of my perception.
If then you perceive me, you perceive yourself.
But you cannot perceive me through yourself,
It is through my eyes that you see me and see yourself,
Through your eyes you cannot see me.
Dearly beloved!
I have called you so often and you have not heard me
I have shown myself to you so often and you have not seen me.
I have made myself fragrance so often, and you have not smelled me.
Savorous food, and you have not tasted me.
Why can you not reach me through the object you touch
Or breathe me through sweet perfumes?
Why do you not see me?
Why do you not hear me?
Why? Why? Why?
a_rare_complete_almoravid_or_almohad_quran_section_spain_or_morocco_12_d5826208_003h

Fado, wind and sea

06 Fim

End

Not birds, nor stars, nor sails
Are as beautiful in my breast
Daybreak falls silent in my eyes
The night enveloped me so
With this pain as if from a dagger
With this cry of a love without end

Love without end, love without time and measure
Water drawn from the distance, from its source
Light that dawns without dimming
Love that wants to be a breeze, but is a gale
Love that wants to be rain, but is a storm
It is all or nothing and there is everything to lose.

Original:

Fim

Nem pássaros, nem astros, nem veleiros
São tão belos dentro do meu peito
Calou-se a madrugada nos meus olhos
Por isso a noite me envolveu assim
Com esta dor que é asa de punhal
Com este grito de um amor sem fim

Amor sem fim, amor sem tempo e sem medida
Água que brota ao longe da nascente
Luz que amanhece sem anoitecer
Amor que quer ser brisa e é vendaval
Amor que quer ser chuva e é temporal
Que é tudo ou nada e tudo há de perder

Fado of Perdition:

This love is not a river
It has the vastness of the sea
The green dance of the waves
Sobbing in my eyes.

I tried to forget the words
Unspoken between us
But hanging over the silence
On the shores of our voice

I tried to forget your eyes
That do not know how to read mine
But in them is born the daybreak
That dawns on the earth and the heavens

I tried to forget your name
Pluck it from my thoughts
But it returns at every instant
Entwined in the wind.

I tried to see my image
But it was yours that I saw
In my mirror, for I bear
The flat eyes of you.

This love is not a river
It has abysses like the sea
And the black mantle of the waves
Shrouds me in blackness

This love is not a river
It has the vastness of the sea

 

Translations from: http://lyricstranslate.com

Original:

Fado Perdição

Este amor não é um rio
Tem a vastidão do mar
A dança verde das ondas
Soluça no meu olhar

Tentei esquecer as palavras
Nunca ditas entre nós
Mas pairam sobre o silencio
Nas margens da nossa voz

Tentei esquecer os teus olhos
Que não sabem ler nos meus
Mas neles nasce a alvorada
Que amanhece a terra e os céus

Tentei esquecer o teu nome
Arrancá-lo ao pensamento
Mas regressa a todo o instante
Entrelaçado no vento

Tentei ver a minha imagem
Mas foi a tua que vi
No meu espelho, porque trago
Os olhos rasos de ti

Este amor não é um rio
Tem abismos como o mar
E o manto negro das ondas
Cobre-me de negro o olhar

Este amor não é um rio
Tem a vastidão do mar

A bit more Cristina Branco:

Carminho and Rumi-Pain

A Voz

 

 

Translation:

Sometimes there is a voice that rises
Higher than the world and higher than us
And makes my eyes weep, when it sings
In the tears that silence my voice

It plunges my senses and time
To the farthest point of who I am
And embraces that place, so gray
That lurks beneath the mist there

And calls out in my breast when I feel
The nearness of a sad face, of a love
Higher than the world and higher than people
The voice is not a voice, it is called pain

Original:

Às vezes há una voz que se levanta
Mais alta do que o Mundo e do que nós
E faz chover-me os olhos, quando canta
Num pranto que emudece a minha voz

Afunda-me os sentidos e o tempo
Ao ponto mais distante do que sou
E abraça aquele lugar que, tão cinzento,
Se esconde sob a névoa que ficou

E grita-mo no peito quando sente
Chegar a face triste de um amor
Mais alta do que o mundo e do que a gente
A voz já não é voz chama-se dor.

Lyrics and Translation from lyricstranslate.com

 

 

Hunger gives pleasure, not fresh sweetmeats
        hunger makes barley bread better than sugar. . . .
Pain renews old medicines and lops off
        the branch of every indifference.
Pains are an alchemy that renews—
     who can be bored when pain appears?
Beware, do not sigh coldly in boredom—
     seek pain, seek pain, pain, pain!

 

-Rūmī
(Mathnawi 6:4403-4304)

 

 Love is the cure, for your pain
will keep giving birth to more pain
until your eyes constantly exhale love
as effortlessly as your body yields its scent.

 

-Rūmī

White Doves

Pombas Brancas

Translation:

White doves
Flying high
Scratching the shadows
Of the large clouds
There they go
Doves that do not return

They bring within
Their wings
In rosy beaks
Scattered clouds
On the sea
Doves of my singing

Merely singing
Various recollections
Coming on the paths
Nobody knows
Where they go
The Doves that do not return

 

Original:

Pombas brancas
Que voam altas
Riscando as sombras
Das nuvens largas
Lá vão
Pombas que não voltam

Trazem dentro
Das asas prendas
Nas bicos rosas
Nuvens desfeitas
No mar
Pombas do meu cantar

Canto apenas
Lembranças várias
Vindas das sendas
Que ninguém sabe
Onde vão
Pombas que não voltam

Lyrics and Translation from LyricsTranslate.com

 

Eye Adaba

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XEKOW51nkc

Translation:
The day has dawned, the day has dawned upon me
In this land, the day has dawned, I see hope

 

White Dove, White Dove
That flies high, high above the sky
Come land on me
The Day has dawned, I see hope

 

Speak so we can hear you

 

White Dove, White Dove
That flies high, high above the sky
Come land on me
The Day has dawned, I see hope

 

Original:

 

Oju mo ti mo
Oju mo ti mo mi
Ni le yi o o
Oju mo ti mo – mo ri re o 

Eye abada
Eye adaba
Eye adaba ti n fo l’oke l’oke ori orun
Wa ba le mi o o
Oju mo ti mo mo ri re o

 

E wi ki’n gbo se

 

Eye abada
Eye adaba
Eye adaba ti n fo lo ke lo ke
Wa ba le mi o o
Oju mo ti mo, mo ri re o

Gentle Now, Doves of the Thicket

 

 

Gentle now,
doves of the thornberry and moringa thicket,
don’t add to my heart-ache
your sighs.

Gentle now,
or your sad cooing
will reveal the love I hide
the sorrow I hide away.

I echo back, in the evening,
in the morning, echo,
the longing of a love-sick lover,
the moaning of the lost.

In a grove of tamarisks
spirits wrestled,
bending the limbs down over me,
passing me away.

They brought yearning,
breaking of the heart,
and other new twists of pain,
putting me through it.

Who is there for me in Jám’,
and the Stoning-Place at Miná,
who for me at Tamarisk Grove,
or at the way-station of Na’mān?
Hour by hour
they circle my heart
in rapture, in love-ache,
and touch my pillars with a kiss.

As the best of creation
circled the Ka’ba,
which reason with its proofs
called unworthy,

And kissed the stones there –
and he was the Natiq!
And what is the house of stone
compared to a man or a woman?

They swore, and how often!
they’d never change – piling up vows.
She who dyes herself red with henna
is faithless.

A white-blazed gazelle
is an amazing sight,
red-dye signalling,
eyelids hinting,

Pasture between breastbones
and innards.
Marvel,
a garden among the flames!

My heart can take on
any form:
a meadow for gazelles,
a cloister for monks,

For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka’ba for the circling pilgrim,
the tables of the Torah,
the scrolls of the Qur’án.

I profess the religion of love;
wherever its caravan turns along the way,
that is the belief,
the faith I keep.

Like Bishr,
Hind and her sister,
love-mad Qays and his lost Láyla,
Máyya and her lover Ghaylán.

-Ibn ‘Arabi

(trans. Michael Sells)

from: http://www.ibnarabisociety.org/articles/poemtarjuman11.html

 

Original:

ألا يا حَماماتِ الأراكَة ِ والبَانِ                   ترَفّقْنَ لا تُضْعِفْنَ بالشجوِ أشجاني
ترَفّقْنَ لا تُظهرنَ بالنّوح والبُكا                     خفيَّ صباباتي ومكنونَ أحزاني
أُطارحُها عند الأصيلِ وبالضحى                        بحنَّة ِ مشتاقٍ وأنَّة ِ هيمانِ
تَنَاوَحَتِ الأرواحُ في غَيضَة ِ الغَضا                       فمالتْ بأفنانٍ عليَّ فأفناني
وجاءتْ منَ الشَّوقِ المبرَّحِ والجوى                   ومن طُرَفِ البَلْوَى إليّ بأفْنانِ
فمَن لي بجمعٍ والمحصَّب مِن مِنًى             ومَنْ لي بِذاتِ الأثْلِ مَنْ لِي بنَعْمان
تطوفُ بقلبي ساعة ً بعدَ ساعة ٍ                         لوَجدٍ وتبريحٍ وتَلثُمُ أركاني
كما طاف خيرُ الرُّسلِ بالكعبة ِ التي                  يقولُ دليلُ العقْلِ فيها بنُقصَانِ
وقبّلَ أحجاراً بها، وهو ناطقٌ                        وأينَ مَقامُ البيتِ من قدرِ إنسانِ
فكَم عَهِدَتْ أن لا تحولَ وأقسمتْ                      وليس لمخضوبٍ وفاءٌ بأيمانِ
ومنْ أعجبِ الأشياءِ ظبى ُ مبرقعُ                      يشيرُ بعنَّابٍ ويومي بأجفانِ
ومَرعاهُ ما بينَ التّرائِبِ والحَشَا                ويا عَجَباً من روضة ٍ وَسَطَ نيرانِ
لقدْ صارَ قلبي قابلاً كلَّ صورة ٍ                      فمَرْعًى لغِزْلاَنٍ وديرٌ لرُهْبانِ
وبَيْتٌ لأوثانٍ وكعبة ُ طائفٍ                       ، وألواحُ توراة ٍ ومصحفُ قرآنِ
أدينُ بدينِ الحبِّ أنَّى توجَّهتْ                          رَكائِبُهُ فالحُبُّ ديني وإيماني
لنا أُسْوَة ٌ في بِشْرِ هندٍ وأُخْتِهَا                       وقيسٍ وليلى ، ثمَّ مي وغيلانِ