Khaqani on Love

Khaqani

Translation:

The bird that sings the song of pain is love
The courier who knows the tongue of the Unseen is love
The existence that calls you to nonexistence is love
And that which redeems you from you is love

 

Original:

مرغی که نوای درد راند عشق است
پيکی که زبان غيب داند عشق است
هستی که به نيستيت خواند عشق است
وآنچ از تو ترا باز رهاند عشق است

Translation by Reza Saberi

 

Rumi

What then is love? The Ocean of Nonexistence.

It is there that the foot of the intellect is broken

Rumi, Mathnawi, ed. Nicholson, III: 4724.

 

Ibn ‘Arabi

Many mistakes may occur in love. The first of them is that people imagine that the object of love is an existent thing… In fact, love’s object remains forever nonexistent, but most lovers are not aware of this, unless they should be knowers of the realities. (II 337.17)

 

Camaron de la Isla

Translation:

I am like the sad bird
that flits from branch to branch
singing his suffering
because he doesn’t know how to cry

Original:

Soy cómo el pájaro triste,
ay que de rama en rama va,
cantando su sufrimiento, cantando su sufrimiento,
porque no sabe llorar.

 

The hardest thing in the world…

ahh, who hasn’t felt like this…

Translation:
The hardest thing in the world
is studied and learned well
I tried to study your love
Because I couldn’t understand it,
I suffer and cry like a child

 

Before the image of Christ
I saw her crying one day
Striking her chest
because she was repenting for
the damage she had done to me

 

Original:

Lo más difícil del mundo
Se estudia y se aprende bien
Me puse a estudiar tu cariño
Y no lo pude comprender
Por eso sufro y lloro como un niño

Ante la imagen de cristo
La vi que lloraba un día
Y golpes se daba en el pecho
Porque estaba arrepentida
Del daño que me había hecho

Hafez
How can I untie this knot? How can I show this wound?
It is a pain, a harsh pain. It is work, a hard work.
چون اين گره گشايم وين ريش چهن نمايم
دردى و صعب دردى كارى و سخت كارى

An excerpt from another one of his ghazals:
 
Translation:
My tall beloved, so flirtatious
made short work of my long story of asceticism

O heart, did you see what my love-seeking eye did to me
in my old age, after all that asceticism and learning?

I tried to conceal the sign of love beneath my cloak of pride
but my tear was a tattletale and spread my secret

Now I’m drawing a picture on water with my tears
And wondering when this metaphor of mine will become real

I fear losing my faith, for the prayer-niche of your eyebrow
takes away the presence of my prayers

I smile as I cry to myself, like a candle, and wonder
What my burning patience could do to a stone heart like yours?

 

Original:
الابلند عشوه گر نقش باز من                                  کوتاه کرد قصه زهد دراز من
دیدی دلا که آخر پیری و زهد و علم                    با من چه کرد دیده معشوقه باز من
گفتم به دلق زرق بپوشم نشان عشق                    غماز بود اشک و عیان کرد راز من
نقشی بر آب می‌زنم از گریه حالیا                         تا کی شود قرین حقیقت مجاز من
می‌ترسم از خرابی ایمان که می‌برد                      محراب ابروی تو حضور نماز من
بر خود چو شمع خنده زنان گریه می‌کنم           تا با تو سنگ دل چه کند سوز و ساز من

and my own…

She stabbed me, but she took the knife
Time came and took the wound
And all I have left from that night:
A scarred face like the moon

 

 

 

Andalusian Love Songs: Shushtari and Camaron (part 2)


Translation:
You who took my heart from me, your love stole my senses
You hid me from myself, and in myself, I don’t appear
I’m hidden form my sight, as if I were invisible
So I went out to look for me, maybe I’ll find myself…
Love of the beautiful, o brother, is my art
and my drink is from my own flask

 

Original:
يا  مَن  أخَذْ  قَلْبي   مِنِّي        هَواكَ               هَيَّمَني
حجَبْتَني              عني        بِيَّا       فَما         أظْهَر
وغِبْتُ     عن       عيْني        كأنِّي      لم       أظْهر
فَصِرتُ           أطلُبني        لَعلَّ      بِي         أظْفَر
عِشْقُ المليحْ يا صاحْ فَنِّي        وشُرْبي     مِنْ        دَنِّي

 

 

I live in love

Take me with you because I cannot find myself outside of your love

CHORUS
I live in love and for me your kisses
are like the source of my thought

Take me with you because I cannot find myself outside of your love

At dawn, I feels she calls me
like a whirlwind, she wakes up my soul!
I want you to feel as I feel,
to call me during the night in your dreams
to be like the tree which gives you shelter
when you need the shade (x2)

Take me with you because I cannot find myself outside of your love
Chorus x 2

God brought you with Him.
I ask you when
I will go to heaven (x2)
so I may kiss your lips

I love you, I do love you
I am a prisoner of your love (x2)

Translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com/

 

Original:

Que me lleve contigo porque ya no me hallo
fuera de tu cariño…

ESTRIBILLO
Yo vivo enamoraO y para mi tus besos
son como la fuente de mi pensamiento

que me yeve contigo porque ya no me hallo
fuera de tu cariño…

Y al amanecer siento que me yama
como un torbellino despierta mi alma!
quiero q sientas como yo siento
y q me yames de noches en sueños
Ser como el arbol que te acobija
cuando la sombra la necessito( x2)

que me yeve contigo porque ya no me hallo fuera de tu cariño
ESTRIBILLO(x2)

Dios q te yevo con él.
yo le pregunto a usté cuando
me va a subir a los cielos(x2)
para besarte tus labios

Te quiero yo a ti te quiero,
de tu cariño soy prisionero(x2)

 

 

The one I love visited me before morning
and made lovely my shame and infamy
He made me drink and said: “sleep and relax
there’s no sin for the one who loves us.”
So pass round the cup, you whom I love and adore
Adoring whom I love is the essence of righteousness
If you poured it for the dead, they’d return to life
It is the joy and repose of the spirits

 

Original:
زَارني من أُحب قبل    الصباحِ        فَحَلالي   تهَتُّكي     وافتِضاحِي

وسقاني   وقال   نم    وتسلَّى        ما عَلى مَن  أحَبَّنا  من    جُناحِ

فَأدِر كأس  من  أُحِبُّ    وأهْوى        فَهوى من أُحِبُّ  عَين    صَلاحِ

لوْ  سَقاهَا   لميِّت   عاد     حَيًّا        فَهي  راحى  وَراحة     الأرْواحِ

Andalusian Love songs: Shushtari and Camaron

The poems of the Andalusian Sufi, Abu’l-Hasan Shushtari (d. 1269) parallel and perhaps indirectly influenced some of my favorite Flamenco lyrics.  Compare this pair of songs:

 

Your love for me is not a fantasy

However much they forbid that I love you,
like a jib to the water I will resist.
Only your tender love I would have for company
I wanted to give you more and more I’d give you,

Because I know that without you I won’t live,
because wherever you are I will follow,
that’s why I love you and dream of you.

Your love for me is not fantasy,
the memory hurts me every day,
I am of your love that abandons me,
and loved me and wanted me.

You and I on the blanket,
you and I under the moon,
your dark eyes were glistening
reflecting the tenderness

A love looks strong,
my heart,
if my eyes didn’t look at you
every day

You were something that goes and never comes
and clear was your farewell and clear was my sorrow.
Without your love, I only love the earth
without your love, two minutes is one day,
that’s why I love you and you take my life.

I would like to hear the voice of the wind
that brings the sighs that you give,
your sorrows are like mine,
like the waves of the ocean

Your love for me is not fantasy,
the memory hurts me every day,
I am of your love that abandons me,
and loved me and wanted me

Translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com/

 

Original:
Tu amor para mi no es fantasia
Por más que a mí me quiten que te quiera
como el foque al agua remetiera
sólo tu amor tendré por compañera
que más te quise dar y más te diera,

 

Porque sé que sin ti yo no vivo,
porque donde tú estés te persigo,
por eso te quiero y sueño contigo.

 

Tu amor para mí no es fantasía,
me duele el recuerdo cada día,
soy de tu querer que me abandona,
y me quería y me quería.

 

Tú y yo sobre la manta,
tú y yo bajo la luna,
brillaban tus ojos negros
reflejando la ternura.

 

Fuerte mira un amor,
sentrañas mías,
si no te vieran mis ojos
todos los días.

 

Fuiste algo que pasa y nunca llega
y claro fue tu adiós y clara mi pena.
Sin tu amor sólo a la tierra quiero
sin tu amor dos minutos es un día,
por eso te quiero y me quitas la vía.

 

Quisiera escuchar la voz del viento
que trae los suspiros que tú das,
tus penas son como las mías,
como la oleá del mar.

 

Tu amor para mí no es fantasía,
me duele el recuerdo cada día,
soy de tu querer que me abandona,
y me quería y me quería.

Shustari:
My neglect of you is reprehensible, your love is obligatory
my longing is everlasting, and union is elusive
On the tablet of my heart, your love has been marked
my tears are the ink, and beauty is the writer
The reader of my thoughts constantly recites
lessons on the signs of the beautiful one
My gaze wanders in the heaven of your beauty
its penetrating star pierces my mind
Talk about others, listening to that is forbidden
for all of me is stolen and your beauty is the thief
They said to me: repent of loving the one you love
so I replied: I repent of my neglect
The torments of love are sweet for every lover
even if, for another, they are hard and never-ending

 

Translation modified from: L.M. Alvarez. Abu’l-Hasan Shushtari: Songs of Love and Devotion. p. 55

 

Original:

سُلُوِّيَ مكروهٌ وحُبكَ واجبٌ               وشوقِي مقيمٌ والتَّواصلُ غائبُ

وفي لوح قلبي من وِدَادكِ أسطرٌ            وَدمعي مِدادٌ مثل ما الحسن كاتبُ

وقارىء فكري لْلمحَاسِن تالياً               على دَرْس آيات الجمالِ يواظبُ

أُنَزِّهُ طَرفي في سماء جَمالكمْ                    لِثاقب ذِهني نَجمُها هو ثاقبُ

حَديثُ سواكَ السمع عنهُ محَّرمٌ                    فَكُلِّيَ مسلوبٌ وحسنكَ سالبُ

يقولونَ لي تبْ عن هوى من تُحبُّهُ                 فقلتُ عن السلوان إِنِّيَ تائبُ

عَذابُ الهوى عذبٌ على كل عَاشِق       وإِن كان عندَ الغير صعبٌ وواصبُ

Deep Songs from Spain

A collection of some lovely Flamenco lyrics

The sighs that come from me
and those that come from you,
if they meet on their way
what things they will say!

Original:
Suspiros que de mí salgan
y otros que de ti saldrán,
si en el camino se encuentran
¡qué de cosas se dirán!

If blood were sold
you’d be rich and I’d be poor—
you have in your veins
both yours and mine.

Original:
Si la sangre se vendiera,
fueras tú rica y yo pobre,
porque tienes en tus venas
la que a mí me corresponde.

 

If being fond costed money
you would owe me a lot;
but since it doesn’t,
you don’t owe me, I owe you not.

Original:
Si el querer bien se pagara,
mucho me estabas debiendo;
pero como no se paga,
ni me debes ni te debo.

With the pain of not seeing you,
I am living on earth.
And if I am not dead,
then nobody will die of heartbreak.

Original:
Con la pena de no verte
estoy viviendo en la tierra:
cuando no me muero yo,
nadie se muere de pena.

 

I must punish
the eyes of my face
for looking with affection
on someone who doesn’t care.

Original:
A los ojos de mi cara
los tengo de castigar,
porque miran con cariño
a quien mal pago les da.


I wrote it to you crying,
I sent it to you crying.
The tears from my eyes
didn’t let me see it.

Original:
Llorando te la escribí,
llorando te la mandé;
las lágrimas de mis ojos
no me la dejaron ver


 

I must be buried
sitting when I die
so that you can say,
‘He’s dead but waiting for me.’

Original:
He de mandar que me entierren
sentado cuando me muera,
para que puedas decir:
—Se murió, pero me espera

 

I don’t know what it is
about the cemetery flowers,
but when the wind rustles them
they seem to be crying.

Original:
No sé qué tienen las flores
que están en el camposanto,
que cuando las mueve el viento
parece que están llorando.

 

Lyrics and translations from M. Smith & L. Ingelmo. Cantes Flamencos:The Deep Songs of Spain

 

Translation:

 

The Gypsy Saeta

Said a voice from the crowd:
“Who will lend me a ladder
to climb the wooden cross
so as to remove the nails
from Jesus of Nazareth?”

Oh, the Saeta, the song
of the gypsy Christ
always with bloody hands
for ever ready to dismantle (the Cross)

Song of the andalusian town
where every Spring
people come asking for ladders
so as to climb the cross.

Song of my homeland
where flowers are thrown
to Jesus in his death throes
and is the faith of my forefathers.

Oh, no, this is not my song
I can’t sing it, nor do I want to
to the Jesus on the Cross
rather to the Jesus who walked on water!

Original:

La Saeta gitana

Dijo una voz popular:
¿Quién me presta una escalera
para subir al madero
para quitarle los clavos
a Jesús el Nazareno?

Oh, la saeta, el cantar
al Cristo de los gitanos
siempre con sangre en las manos,
siempre por desenclavar.

Cantar del pueblo andaluz
que todas las primaveras
anda pidiendo escaleras
para subir a la cruz.

Cantar de la tierra mía
que echa flores
al Jesús de la agonía
y es la fe de mis mayores.

¡Oh, no eres tú mi cantar
no puedo cantar, ni quiero
a este Jesús del madero
sino al que anduvo en la mar!

Lyrics and translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com

Camarón and Persian Poetry- “Nothing is Eternal” and “The Cicada”

 

Sarmad

The universe
is a kaleidoscope:
now hopelessness, now hope
now spring, now fall.
Forget its ups and downs:
do not vex yourself:
The remedy for pain
is the pain.

 

Translation by Peter Lamborn Wilson and Nasrollah Pourjavady

 

 

Translation:

Punishment replaces punishment
and one pain removes another
a nail takes out another nail
and one love replaces another

Nothing, Nothing,  is forever

It’s a castle of pain,
with towers of suffering
that you yourself built
when you said “I’m sorry…”

Nothing, Nothing, is forever

and gives it you no pain!
I only feel more the wounds
that I have in my heart

Nothing, Nothing,  is forever

O moon that shines on the seas, the dark seas
Aren’t you tired moon?
Turning to the same world?
O moon, stay with me and don’t go!
Because they say you sometimes delay the dawn, the dawn
The moon no longer wears his black silk veil
Looks down no longer in his blue mirror
The sun broke the moon’s heart
and he follows from afar, still gazing

I think of that afternoon,
when I wanted to kill,
Avenge myself for my cowardice!
Why not kill myself, if I were already dead in my life…?

Nothing, Nothing, is forever

Iron will never be for my body
ay moon when I see you,
it’s a silence in a thousand pieces
ay when I die of sighs
I would like to hold you in my hands
and wrap you in my cloak
until the new day has arrived,
ay and never stop loving you!

O moon that shines on the sea, the dark seas
Aren’t you tired moon?
Turning to the same world?
O moon, stay with me and don’t go!
Because they say you sometimes delay the dawn, the dawn
The moon no longer wears his black silk veil
No longer look down in his blue mirror
The sun broke the moon’s heart
and he follows from afar, still gazing

Original:

Quita una pena,otra pena
y un dolor,otro dolor
un clavo saca otro clavo
y un amor quita otro amor

NA,NA,NA ES ETERNO!

es un castillo de pena,
con torres de sufrimiento
tu misma los fabricaste
cuando dijiste lo siento

NA,NA,NA ES ETERNO!

y a ti no te da dolor!
no me apretes mas las llagas
que tengo en mi corazonç

NA,NA,NA ES ETERNO!

Luna q brillas los mares, los mares oscuros
ay luna tu no estas cansá
de girar al mismo mundo?
ay luna kedate conmigo y aun not e vayas!
pq dicen q aveces se tarda el alba,se tarda el alba
ya no viste la luna su velo de seda negro
ya no baja a mirarse en su azul espejo
el sol le dio a la luna un desengaño
se siguen de lejos,se siguen mirando

Yo pienso en aquella tarde,
cuando me quise matar,
me avergonze de mi cobardia!
pa q matarme?si yo staba muerto en mi via

NA,NA,NA ES ETERNO!

mi cuerpo hierro para nunca
ay luna cuando te miro
es un silencio en mil pedazos
ay cuando muerto de suspiro
me gustaria con mis manos abrazarte
y con mi manto cobijarte
q llegara el nuevo dia,
ay no dejar de amarte!

Luna que brillas los mares,los mares oscuros
ay luna tu no estas cansá
de girar al mismo mundo?
ay luna kedate conmigo y aun not e vayas!
pq dicen q aveces se tarda el alba,se tarda el alba
ya no viste la luna su velo de seda negro
ya no baja a mirarse en su azul espejo
el sol le dio a la luna un desengaño
se siguen de lejos,se siguen mirando

Hafez

 

 

Translation:

WHAT is wrought in the forge of the living and life–
All things are nought! Ho! fill me the bowl,
For nought is the gear of the world and the strife!
One passion has quickened the heart and the soul,
The Beloved’s presence alone they have sought–
Love at least exists; yet if Love were not,
Heart and soul would sink to the common lot–
All things are nought!

Like an empty cup is the fate of each,
That each must fill from Life’s mighty flood;
Nought thy toil, though to Paradise gate thou reach,
If Another has filled up thy cup with blood;
Neither shade from the sweet-fruited trees could be bought
By thy praying-oh Cypress of Truth, dost not see
That Sidreh and Tuba were nought, and to thee
All then were nought!

The span of thy life is as five little days,
Brief hours and swift in this halting-place;
Rest softly, ah rest! while the Shadow delays,
For Time’s self is nought and the dial’s face.
On the lip of Oblivion we linger, and short
Is the way from the Lip to the Mouth where we pass
While the moment is thine, fill, oh Saki, the glass
Ere all is nought!

Consider the rose that breaks into flower,
Neither repines though she fade and die–
The powers of the world endure for an hour,
But nought shall remain of their majesty.
Be not too sure of your crown, you who thought
That virtue was easy and recompense yours;
From the monastery to the wine-tavern doors
The way is nought

What though I, too, have tasted the salt of my tears,
Though I, too, have burnt in the fires of grief,
Shall I cry aloud to unheeding ears?
Mourn and be silent! nought brings relief.
Thou, Hafiz, art praised for the songs thou hast wrought,
But bearing a stained or an honoured name,
The lovers of wine shall make light of thy fame–
All things are nought!

Translation: Gertrude Bell

 

Original:

حاصل کارگه کون و مکان این همه نیست
                         باده پیش آر که اسباب جهان این همه نیست
از دل و جان شرف صحبت جانان غرض است
                  غرض این است وگرنه دل و جان این همه نیست
منت سدره و طوبی ز پی سایه مکش
                که چو خوش بنگری ای سرو روان این همه نیست
دولت آن است که بی خون دل آید به کنار
                     ور نه با سعی و عمل باغ جنان این همه نیست
پنج روزی که در این مرحله مهلت داری
                      خوش بیاسای زمانی که زمان این همه نیست
بر لب بحر فنا منتظریم ای ساقی
                   فرصتی دان که ز لب تا به دهان این همه نیست
زاهد ایمن مشو از بازی غیرت زنهار
                     که ره از صومعه تا دیر مغان این همه نیست
دردمندی من سوخته زار و نزار
                         ظاهرا حاجت تقریر و بیان این همه نیست
نام حافظ رقم نیک پذیرفت ولی
                        پیش رندان رقم سود و زیان این همه نیست

 

We are the mirror as well as the face in it.
We are tasting the taste this minute of eternity.
We are pain and what cures pain both.
We are the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.
I want to hold you close like a lute so we can cry out with loving.
You would rather throw stones at a mirror?
 I am your mirror, and here are the stones.
 -Rumi

 

 

 

 

 

Translation:

What bad luck I have
to have met you
how happy I lived,
your love is my punishment.
I’m leaving this land
I have already renounced my soul
Singing the whole way,
Just to not hear your name,
I’m going to the Moors.

 

O moon that shines on the sea, the dark seas
Aren’t you tired moon?
Turning to the same world?
O moon, stay with me and don’t go!
Because they say you sometimes delay the dawn, the dawn

 

Pozo Blanco Road
had a tavern
with white wine.
Give me another sip,
come down,
I haven’t tasted anything.

 

Then I was born a carnation
pa the days rejoiced with me
and now that I have all three,
what a wonder is mine.
That the garden of my house
will never lack  joy.
Don’t sing cicada
silence your chirping,
For I carry a pain in my soul,
A dagger that strikes me
knowing that when I sing
my luck expires sighing
Under the shade of a tree
and the beat of my guitar
This happy song,
because the road has ended
and do not want to die dreaming,
oh, like the cicada died.

 

Life, life, life is,
is a setback,
life is life.
Oh life is, life is …

Original:

Que mala suerte la mía,
de haber tropezao contigo,
lo a gustito que yo vivía,
tu cariño es mi castigo.

Me voy de estos terrenos
que ya he renunciaíto primita mía
pa toíta la vía,
sólo por no escuchar tú nombre,
que yo me voy a la morería.

Ay, luna que brilla en los mares,
en los mares oscuros,
luna, tú no estás cansá
de girar el mismo mundo,
ay, luna quédate conmigo,

ya no te vayas,
porque dicen que a veces
se tarda el alba.

Camino de Pozo Blanco
había una tabernita
con vino blanco.
Échame otro buchito,
vengo najando,
no ha catao ná.

Después me nació un clavel
pa alegrarme a mí los días,
y ahora que tengo a los tres,
que maravilla la mía.
Que en el jardín de mi casa
nunca falte la alegría.

Ya no cantes cigarra,
apaga tu sonsonete,
que llevo una pena en el alma,
que como un puñal se me mete
sabiendo que cuando canto
suspirando va mi suerte.

Bajo la sombra de un árbol
y al compás de mi guitarra
canto alegre este huapango,
porque la vía se acaba
y no quiero morir soñando,
ay, como muere la cigarra.

Ábreme la puerta
que vengo najando,
y los gachés, primita de mi alma,
sí a mí me ven
me la van buscando.

La vida, la vida, la vida es,
es un contratiempo,
la vida, la vida es.

Ay la vida es, la vida es…

 

Omar Khayyam / Edward Fitzgerald

XII.
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread, — and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

 

XLIV.
And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape
Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and
He bid me taste of it; and ’twas — the Grape!
XLV.
The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The subtle Alchemest that in a Trice
Life’s leaden Metal into Gold transmute.

 

XLVIII.
For in and out, above, about, below,
‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
Play’d in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.

XVI.
The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes — or it prospers; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert’s dusty Face
Lighting a little Hour or two — is gone.

 

LVIII.
‘Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.

 

LXXXIX.
Ah, Moon of my Delight who know’st no wane,
The Moon of Heav’n is rising once again:
How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me — in vain!

 

LXXXI.
Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash my Body whence the Life has died,
And in a Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt,
So bury me by some sweet Garden-side.

 

“Translations” by E. Fitzgerald. The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

 

 

Camaron, Me, and ‘Attar

El Padre Santo de Roma

 

Translation:

Lailolailolailo, Leilo …

Holy Father in Rome,
I have to ask
if the sins that I have
if the sins I have,
if the sins I have,
can they be forgiven?

I’m like a sad bird
that goes from branch to branch,
singing its suffering,
singing its suffering,
because it doesn’t know how to cry.

Oh how beautiful are the flowers,
the cheerful spring
with its divine colors.
You are the sea,
I am the sand,
I’ll go with you,
wherever you want.

Europe’s Chapel,
Europe’s Chapel,
overlooking the bay
so pretty and beautiful,
so pretty and beautiful,
the fields of Andalusia.

You are the sea,
I am the sand,
I’ll go with you,
wherever you want.

Original:

Lailolailolailo, leilo…

Al Padre Santo de Roma,
le tengo que preguntar
si los pecados que tengo
si los pecados que tengo,
si los pecados que tengo,
me los puede perdonar.

Soy cómo el pájaro triste,
ay que de rama en rama va,
cantando su sufrimiento,
cantando su sufrimiento,
porque no sabe llorar.

{Olé, Paco}

Ay qué bonitas están las flores,
de la alegre primavera
con sus divinos colores.
Tú eres la mar,
yo soy la arena,
yo voy contigo,
dónde tú quieras.

De la Capilla de Europa,
de la Capilla de Europa,
se divisa la bahía
más bonita y más hermosa,
ay más bonita y más hermosa,
de la vega Andalucía.

Tú eres la mar,
yo soy la arena,
yo voy contigo,
dónde tú quieras.

 

 

You forged these chains and set me free
I’m your dream, you’re my memory
Don’t forget me, I beg you please
My darkness, light, health and disease

My love is yours, so yours is mine
So lift my ore out of this mine
Don’t leave me shrouded in my mind
Love flows behind the clouds of time

Only my death will end our war
My perfections stain your faults
My waves will crash upon your shore
Until your rocks become my salt

 

دلم دردى كه دارد با كه گويد

 

To whom can my heart speak of its pain
     To whom can I repent, for I’ve sinned again?
Alas!  Isn’t there a sympathetic freind
   who would welcome my bad luck?
When you spoke to me of abandonment
   you were a dying person describing death
Why should one wash their hands of you when
   they’re not full at the table of your union?
My heart sees your face through a hundred walls;
   it breathes your scent from a hundred leagues
I won’t forget the rose of your union
   otherwise the thorns will grow upon my grave
Today the grief of ‘Attar’s heart
   speaks or is silent by your decree

-‘Attar

Original:

دلم دردی که دارد با که گوید            گنه خود کرد تاوان از که جوید
دریغا نیست همدردی موافق        که بر بخت بدم خوش خوش بموید
مرا گفتی که ترک ما بگفتی               به ترک زندگانی کس بگوید
کسی کز خوان وصلت سیر نبود            چرا باید که دست از تو بشوید
ز صد بارو دلم روی تو بیند             ز صد فرسنگ بوی تو ببوید
گل وصلت فراموشم نگردد             وگر خار از سر گورم بروید
غم درد دل عطار امروز               چه فرمایی بگوید یا نگوید

 

Tangos of the Willows

Yo pienso como el cipres

 

 

Translation:

I will be like the willow,
I will be like the willow,
though I last one hundred years,
I will be like the willow,
that sways in the air,
but remains firm,
but remains firm.

I think like the cypress,
I think like the cypress,
the truest of truths,
the truest of truths,
that on which I stand.

For God’s sake, Lord Mayor,
Don’t hit the thieves,
because you have a child,
and part of their hearts,
ay ay ay Mother,
ay ay ay Mother.

If you comb your hair with the comb,
canastero and comb,
I can assure you
that you will curl your hair,
that you can curl,
your black hair, your hair,
if you comb your hair with the comb,
the comb of the castanero.

From the root of an olive tree
my Gypsy mother was born
and I, as her son,
I am a stem of the same branch.
Oh mai, mai oh,
Oh Mother, oh Mother.

And this scarf,
and this handkerchief,
I carry with me,
for when I cry,
I release you,
for when I cry,
I release you.

The Virgin of Remedios
has her dark face,
and the child in her arms,
handsomer than the lily.
Oh Mother, oh Mother.

I live in love, and for me your kisses,
are like the source of my thoughts.
I live in love ..

 

Original:

Ay yo seré como la mimbre,
que yo seré como la mimbre,
aunque cien años yo dure,
y yo seré como la mimbre,
y que la bambolea el aire,
pero se mantiene firme,
pero se mantiene firme.

Yo pienso como el ciprés,
yo pienso como el ciprés,
la verdad más verdadera,
la verdad más verdadera,
la de mantenerse en pié.

Por Dios, alcalde mayor,
no pegue usted a los ladrones,
porque usted tiene una niña,
y que parte los corazones,
ay ay ay mare,
ay ay ay mare.

Si te peinas con el peine,
y el peine del canastero,
y yo te puedo asegurar
y que se te riza a ti el pelo,
que se te puede rizar,
tu pelo negro, tu pelo,
si te peinas con el peine,
el peine del canastero.

De la raíz de un olivo
ay nació mi mare gitana,
y yo, como soy su hijo,
tronco de la misma rama.
Oh mai, oh mai,
oh mare, oh mare.

Y este pañuelo,
y este pañuelo,
lo llevo conmigo,
pa cuando yo lloro,
lo estreno contigo,
pa cuando yo lloro,
lo estreno contigo.

La Virgen de los Remedios
tiene su cara morena,
y el niño que está en sus brazos,
más guapo que la azucena.
Oh mare, oh mare.

Yo vivo enamorao y para mí tus besos,
son como la fuente de mis pensamientos.
Yo vivo enamorao..

 

El Embrujo de tus ojos

 

 

Translation:

I will be like the willow,
I will be like the willow,
though I last one hundred years,
I will be like the willow,
that sways in the air,
but remains firm,
but remains firm.

It appeared, it appeared,
In a dream vanishing my happiness.
God, how I remember.
I remember that day.
If great was my torment
still greater was my joy
when I woke from sleep
and I saw that it was a lie.

And I gaze at the firmament,
and I tell the stars,
of my worship and thought,
and that I adore the name Gema Gema.
When I remember you,
what a beautiful name you carry,
Gema, Gema, Gema.

When I remember you,
the spell of your eyes
that will not let me live
Like children, I cry
remembering you.
You do not go,
you do not go,
Do not leave me alone.
You do not leave me.

Look at me, and I cry,
and you say softly
“Why did you leave me?”

You and I on the blanket,
You and I in the moonlight,
and your black eyes sparkled,
reflecting tenderness.

 

Original:

Yo seré como la mimbre,
que yo seré como la mimbre,
aunque cien años yo dure,
y, yo seré como la mimbre,
y que la bambolea el aire,
pero se mantiene firme,
pero se mantiene firme.

Se apareció, se apareció,
en un ensueño despidiendo mi alegría.
Dios mío, cómo me acuerdo.
Yo me acuerdo de aquel día.
Si grande fue mi tormento
más grande fue mi alegría
cuando desperté del sueño
y yo vi que era mentira.

Y yo repaso el firmamento,
y me dicen las estrellas,
y que adorara el pensamiento,
y que adorara yo el nombre de Gema, Gema.
Cuando me acuerdo de ti,
qué bonito nombre llevas,
Gema, Gema, Gema.

 

Cuando me acuerdo de ti,
del embrujo de tus ojos
que no me dejan vivir.
Como los niños yo lloro
y acordándome de ti.
Tú no te vayas,
tu no te vayas,
tú no me dejes solo.
Tú no te vayas de mí.

Y me miras, y me lloras,
y tú me dices bajito
¿por qué me abandonas?

Tú y yo sobre la manta,
tú y yo bajo la luna,
y brillaban tus ojos negros,
reflejando la ternura.

 

I am wind, you are fire

Rumi

 

 

 

Translation:

I saw myself as a thorn, so I went towards a rose

I saw myself as vinegar, so I mixed myself in sugar

I was a bowl full of poison, so I went to the cure

I was a cup of dregs, so I dived into the water of life

My eye was full of pain, so I sought Jesus’ hand

I saw myself as raw, so I mixed with the ripe

I found the dust of love’s alley to be the soul’s eye-liner

And I became poetry in the subtlety of that dust I mixed

Love said, “Yes, that’s right,”  you said, “But don’t see it [as coming] from your self.”

I am wind and you are fire, I enliven you and inspire

 

 

Original:

خویش را چون خار دیدم سوی گل بگریختم
خویش را چون سرکه دیدم در شکر آمیختم
کاسه پرزهر بودم سوی تریاق آمدم
ساغری دردی بدم در آب حیوان ریختم
دیده پردرد بودم دست در عیسی زدم
خام دیدم خویش را در پخته‌ای آویختم
خاک کوی عشق را من سرمه جان یافتم
شعر گشتم در لطافت سرمه را می بیختم
عشق گوید راست می گویی ولی از خود مبین
من چو بادم تو چو آتش من تو را انگیختم

 

 

Camaron

 

 

Translation:

 

CHORUS 
I am the wind 
you are the fire 
and I want to burn in your embers 
or you can turn off the light with a little water
Leilere, lere lereilere 

 

2nd verse:
Why don’t you look for me
I need you to find me
my world is a cold forest
in which I lose myself
my world is an empty thing
since only you can relieve me
I’m lost
and my love is so sincere
that sometimes without losing you
I am scared of losing you
if I lose you
I’ll take a kiss from your mouth
and I want to dream of you, awake
with you, with you
Leilere lerelerelereilere

 

 

Original:

Tu mare y la mía
se habían disgustao
pelillos del roete
se han arrancao
Por que no te vienes
y me ayudas a levantarme
no ves que yo estoy caio
tengo el corazón partío tengo el corazón herio
y como no seas tú quien lo alivie
no encuentra alivio

 

ESTRIBILLO
yo soy el viento
tu eres la hoguera
y yo en tus brasas quemarme quisiera
ni el agüita claralo podrá apagar
Leilere, lere lereilere

 

Por qué no me buscas
necesito que me encuentres
mi mundo es un bosque frio
en el que yo me extravio mi mundo es algo vacioy como no seas tú quien lo alivies
yo estoy perdio
Por eso mi cariño es tan sincero
que a veces sin perderte siento miedo
de perderte
si te pierdo
te hago beso de tu boca
y te quiero soñar dispierto
contigo, contigo
Leilere lerelerelereilere

 

Along the path…

The love of her beauty is a sea of fire.
      If you’re a lover you’ll burn; such is the path.
Where a bright candle’s flame suddenly heaves
      won’t the moth burn?  Its burning is certain.
If you want love’s secret, leave faith and disbelief.
     What room is there for them in Love’s entrance?
The lover who comes to the path’s first stage
     falls in frailty like a shadow upon the ground.
After a while nothing remains of the shadow
   because the sun lies in wait in a distant place
Many thousands of travellers made pretence of Love
   Mansur is like the gemstone on the seal of the path.
Anyone who claims the pearl of truth from this sea
   is forever cherised in the courts of both worlds
The task of this path is extremely arduous;
   one person each millenium sees the path through
How will you know the people of the path? for they
   first walk on this path, then on the seventh heaven
Along the path, ‘Attar came upon a place
   higher than body and soul, outside of kindness and hate.

 

modified from K. Avery and A. Alizadeh.  Fifty Poems of ‘Attar.  Anomaly, 2007

Original:

    عشق جمال جانان دریای آتشین است
گر عاشقی بسوزی زیرا که راه این است
   جایی که شمع رخشان ناگاه بر فروزند
پروانه چون نسوزد کش سوختن یقین است
   گر سر عشق خواهی از کفر و دین گذر کن
کانجا که عشق آمد چه جای کفر و دین است
   عاشق که در ره آید اندر مقام اول
چون سایه‌ای به خواری افتاده در زمین است
   چون مدتی برآید سایه نماند اصلا
کز دور جایگاهی خورشید در کمین است
   چندین هزار رهرو دعوی عشق کردند
برخاتم طریقت منصور چون نگین است
   هرکس که در معنی زین بحر بازیابد
در ملک هر دو عالم جاوید نازنین است
   کاری قوی است عالی کاندر ره طریقت
بر هر هزار سالی یک مرد راه‌بین است
    تو مرد ره چه دانی زیرا که مرد ره را
اول قدم درین ره بر چرخ هفتمین است
    عطار اندرین ره جایی فتاد کانجا
برتر ز جسم و جان است بیرون ز مهر و کین است

 

 

Translation of lyrics:

Walking, walking, walking alone
I found my gypsy bathing in the river

 

She can not live without me,
I can not live without her,
I am the sun that shines,
she is for me the star,
that illuminates my dream!

 

Walking, walking, walking alone
I found my gypsy bathing in the river

 

She is my joy
When your hair caresses my face,
Between my kisses I get lost gazing in
Your black eyes and I’m going crazy

 

Original:
Caminando,caminando,caminando voy solito
a buscar a mi gitana que lavando esta en el rio!
No puede vivir sin mi,
no puedo vivir sin ella,
yo soy el sol q le alumbra,
ella es para mi la estrella,
la que alumbra mi sueño!

 

Caminando,caminando,caminando voy solito
a buscar a mi gitana que lavando esta en el rio!
Ella es mi alegria
cuando su pelo acaricia mi cara
y entre mis besos yo me pierdo mirando
sus ojos negros y yo me vuelvo loco