Hafez and Estrella Morente

Hafez Ghazal 271

Don’t ask me how many complaints I have about her black hair
For I became so undone because of her that its beyond telling

 

Let no one abandon heart and faith in hope of fidelity
I did this.  Don’t ask me how sorry I am.

 

With one innocent drink that hurt no one,
I drew such trouble from the ignorant that it’s beyond telling

 

Ascetic, pass by.  Peace be with you.
Don’t ask how this ruby wine destroys heart and faith.

 

I desired a life of virtue and righteousness but
That enticing narcissus is so artful it’s beyond telling

 

On this road there are disputes that melt the soul
Each one cries out, “Don’t look at this!  Don’t ask about that!”

 

I thought I would ask the orb of heaven how it was with him
He said, ” I suffer so much in the mallet’s curve it’s beyond telling.”

 

 I said to her, “With whose blood did you curl your hair.”
She said, “Hafiz it’s a long story.  By the Qur’an, don’t ask.”

 

Translation by Elizabeth Gray in The Green Sea of Heaven. White Cloud Press, 1995

Original:
                  دارم از زلف سیاهش گله چندان که مپرس
که چنان ز او شده‌ام بی سر و سامان که مپرس
                      کس به امید وفا ترک دل و دین مکناد
که چنانم من از این کرده پشیمان که مپرس
                  به یکی جرعه که آزار کسش در پی نیست
زحمتی می‌کشم از مردم نادان که مپرس
                   زاهد از ما به سلامت بگذر کاین می لعل
دل و دین می‌برد از دست بدان سان که مپرس
                          پارسایی و سلامت هوسم بود ولی
شیوه‌ای می‌کند آن نرگس فتان که مپرس
                  گفت‌وگوهاست در این راه که جان بگدازد
هر کسی عربده‌ای این که مبین آن که مپرس
                     گفتم از گوی فلک صورت حالی پرسم
گفت آن می‌کشم اندر خم چوگان که مپرس
                         گفتمش زلف به خون که شکستی گفتا
حافظ این قصه دراز است به قرآن که مپرس

 

 

Translation:

It’s not your fault
and I don’t even blame you
I whisper
and these evil tongues
that go around the world
To the mountains of Armenia
I want to go
where there are no Moors or Christians
talking about me
I don’t sleep at night,
nor during the day
thinking of my love
I lose my mind

Original:

Tu no tienes la culpa
ni yo a ti te culpo
me lo murmuran
y esa malas lenguas
que andan por el mundo

a la sierra de Armenia
yo me quiero ir
donde no hubiera
moros ni cristianos
que hablen de mi

y de noche no duermo
de día tampoco
pensando en mi compañero
yo me vuelvo loca

 

 

Rumi – I do not know myself

 

 

What is to be done, O Muslims? for I do not know myself.

I am neither Christian, nor Jew, nor Magian, nor Muslim.
I am not of the East, nor of the West, nor of the land, nor of the sea;
I am not of Nature’s quarry, nor of the heaven circling above.
I am not made of earth, nor of water, nor of wind, nor fire;
nor of the Divine Throne, nor the carpet, nor the cosmos, nor mineral.
I am not from India, nor China, nor Bulgaria, nor Turkestan;
I am not from the kingdom of the two Iraqs, nor from the earth of Khurasan.
Neither of this world, nor the next, I am, nor of Heaven, nor of Hell;
Nor from Adam, nor from Eve, nor from Eden nor Rizwan.
My place is the Placeless, my trace is the Traceless;
‘Tis neither body nor soul, for I myself am the Beloved.
I have cast aside duality, I have seen the two worlds as one;
One I seek, One I know, One I see, One I say.

 

He is the First, He is the Last, He is the Outward, He is the Inward;
I know no one other than He, none but he who is He
Drunk with Love’s cup, the two worlds have been lost to me;
I have no business save carouse and revelry.
If once in my life I spent a moment without you,
From that time and from that hour I repent of my life.
If once in this retreat I win a moment with you,
I will trample on both worlds, and dance in ecstasy
O Shams of Tabriz, I am so drunk in this world,
That except for drunkenness and revelry, I have no tale to tell.

 

Original:

چه تدبیر ای مسلمانان که من خود را نمیدانم
نه ترسا و یهودیم نه گبرم نه مسلمانم

نه شرقیم نه غربیم نه بریم نه بحریم
نه ارکان طبیعیم نه از افلاک گردانم

نه از خاکم نه از بادم نه از ابم نه از اتش
نه از عرشم نه از فرشم نه از کونم نه از کانم

نه ازهندم نه از چینم نه از بلغار و سقسینم
” نه از مـلک عراقـینم نه از خـاک خراسانم

نه از دنیا نه از عقبی نه از جنت نه از دوزخ
نه از ادم نه از حوا نه از فردوس رضوانم

مکانم لا مکان باشد نشانم بی نشان باشد
نه تن باشد نه جان باشد که من از جان جانانم

دویی از خود بیرون کردم یکی دیدم دو عالم را
یکی جویم یکی گویم یکی دانم یکی خوانم

هو الاول هوالاخر هو الظاهر هو الباطن
بغیر از هو و یا من هو دیگر چیزی نمی دانم

ز جام عشق سرمستم دو عالم رفت از دستم
بجز رندی و قلاشی نباشد هیچ سامانم

اگر در عمر خود روزی دمی بی او بر اوردم
از ان وقت و از ان ساعت ز عمر خود پشیمانم

الا ای شمس تبریزی چنان مستم در ین عالم
که جز مستی و قلاشی نباشد هیچ درمانم

Compare with:

 

 

 

Songs from Andalus

Fado: Casa de Fados

(from Carlos Saura’s film Fados)

 

Lyrics (from the film’s subtitles):

First singer:
A lost friendship can never return
It’s a forged firendship
 That jokingly comes and goes
It’s a forged friendship
that jokingly comes and goes
No one gives a thing
If behind that gesture there is no value
Only a friend can give love without receiveing

 

Second:
My mother I sing tonight
For the day has punished me
And in the silence of things
I find a friendly voice
And in the silence of things
I find a friendly voice
My mother I cry tonight
for the love I am drowning in
For the words of life
Have no other world
For I am this song
Mother, So hurt
I wear this body at night
without fate but with fado
I wear this body at night
without fate but with fado

 

Third:
Maybe fado will tell me what no one wants to say
That is why I chase it so that I may understand myself
That is why I chase it so that I may understand myself
My love I have sung
Under the last sky
Because I surrender myself in every last fado as if it were the first
Maybe fado does not ask me for everything I give it
So even when I forget
It does not forget me
So even when I forget
It does not forget me

 

Carminho (my favorite):
I cried for not seeing you
For seeing you I cry
I cried for not seeing you
For seeing you I now cry
Harder for wanting
Wanting to see you all the time
Time rushes past
When you talk and I listen
But the hours of our life
Each has a moment
Stay beside me
And never leave
So that my heart poor thing
May live life in an hour
So that my heart poor thing
May live life in an hour
Riberio:
Do not be afraid of fame, ill-famed Alfama
Do not be afraid of fame, ill-famed Alfama
Fame sometimes defames good honorable people

 

Other guy:
Fadistas come with me
Listen to the street fado
And sing a street duel
In a charming ancient quarter

 

Riberio:
Let’s go as I have said
You will see when the day dawns
How fun the revelry was
In the old Alfama quarter
Do not be afraid of fame ill-famed Alfama

 

Other guy:
I know of the world you speak
But surely I know wrong
I know what the world is saying
But surely out of spite
For was it always not true
That tales were told?
 Many people there lived
Very quiet lives
Which in a spiteful way are muddied
Fame
Sometimes defames
Good honorable people

Flamenco: Camarón-Rosa Maria

(rough translation of the lyrics)

Country Wildflowers
Water from the clear lagoon
That’s how I describe the colors of your face

Rosa Maria, Rosa Maria
if you loved me, how happy I would be

I envy the flowers
the mirror where you look
the brush of your hair
and the air that you breathe
and the air that you breathe

Rosa Maria, Rosa Maria
if you loved me, how happy I would be

She’s joy and beauty
and grace in her walk
and even your laugh is beautiful
and different from the rest

Rosa Maria, Rosa Maria
if you loved me, how happy I would be

Rosa Maria, Rosa Maria
if you loved me, how happy I would be

 

Camarón and Paco de Lucia por Siguriyas

 

Andalusian mawwal: Omar Metioui-El secreto encuentro

Lyrics from Ibn ‘Arabi’s tarjuman al-ashwaq:

ألا يا نسيم الريح بلغ مها نجد      بأني على ما تعلمون من العهد

فان كان حقا ما تقول و عندها    إليّ من الشوق المبرّح ما عندي

إليها ففي حرّ الظهيرة نلتقي    بخيمتها سرا على أصدق الوعد

translation:
O Morning breeze, go tell the gazelles of Najd
   that, “I’m true to the vow you know of”
And if what she says is true and she
   has for me the desperate longing I have
for her, then in the heat of noon we’ll meet
   in her tent secretly, with the most sincere promise