Bayt al-Hikma

Bayt al-Hikma (the House of Wisdom) was an Abbasid royal library in Baghdad, closely associated with the reign of al-Ma’mun in the ninth century. It belonged to an age of remarkable intellectual exchange, when scholars translated and studied works of philosophy, mathematics, astronomy and medicine from earlier traditions. Across Baghdad’s wider scholarly community, knowledge travelled between languages and cultures, preserving inherited ideas while opening them to new questions. That willingness to learn across boundaries inspires this page.

My Bayt al-Hikma is a modest meeting place for poetry, translations and reflections. Most of the poems gathered here are my English translations of Urdu and my native Punjabi, bringing the voices, ideas and emotions of poets I admire to readers in another language. Alongside them are my own poems and writings, shaped by the countries, friendships and perspectives that have formed me. My hope is to carry something of each voice across languages, inviting understanding and connection through the words we share.

Prose & reflectionsRead the blog

Urdu translations

Bol — SpeakFaiz Ahmed Faiz · Urdu · English translation by Umar RafiSpeak! For your lips are freeRead poem

Roman Urdu

Bol ki lab azaad hain tere Bol zabaan ab tak teri haiTera sutwaan jism hai tera Bol ki jaan ab tak teri haiDekh ki aahan-gar ki dukaan mein Tund hain sholay, surkh hai aahanKhulne lage quflon ke dahaane Phaila har ik zanjeer ka daamanBol ye thoda waqt bahut hai Jism-o-zabaan ki maut se pehleBol ki sach zinda hai ab tak Bol jo kuch kehna hai keh le

English translation

Speak! For your lips are free Speak! It’s your destinyYour (resilient) soul defines your tale Speak! For life stills belongs to theeLook inside the blacksmith’s shop The flames are high; the iron is hot(But) the chains are slowly opening wide Their locks starting to fall asideSpeak! Don’t waste this finite time Before your soul and hope subsidesSpeak! For the truth; which, still survives Speak! And say whatever you like

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Khuda Karay — May God WillAhmad Nadeem Qasmi · Urdu · English translation by Umar RafiI pray there descends upon my pure landRead poem

Translation dated 2006.

Roman Urdu

Khuda karay ke meri arz-e-pak per utray Wo fasl-e-gul jisay andesha-e-zawaal na hoYahan jo phool khilay, khila rahay sadi'on Yahan khizaan ko guzarnay bi bhi majaal na hoYahan jo sabza ugay, hamesha sabz rahay Aur aisa sabz ke jis ki koi misaal na hoKhuda karay ke na kham ho sir-e-waqar-e-watan Aur is ke husn ko tashweesh-e-mah-o-saal na hoHar aik fard ho, tahzeeb-o-fun ka oaj-e-kamaal Koi malool na ho, koi khasta haal ha HoKhuda karay ke meray aik bhi hum'watan ke leay Hayaat jurm na ho, zindagi wabaal na hoKhuda karay ke meri arz-e-pak per utray Wo fasl-e-gul jisay andesha-e-zawaal na ho

English translation

I pray there descends upon my pure land A field of flowers, fearless of decayWhose fragrant blossoms, bloom for the ages And autumn winds never come its wayIts budding flora, forever green A green, which never turns to greyI pray this land holds its head up high With stunning beauty that never fades awayIts natives drenched, in grace and joy In anguish, nor in pangs of frayI pray, for all of my countrymen Existence; never a crime, till their dying dayI pray there descends upon my pure land A field of flowers, fearless of decay

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Bazeecha-e-Atfal — A Children’s PlaygroundMirza Ghalib · Urdu · English translation by Umar RafiA Children’s playground, the world before meRead poem

Translation dated 2011 · Balli Maraan, near Chandni Chowk, Old Delhi.

Roman Urdu

Bazeecha-e-atfal hai duniya mere aage, Hota hai shab-o-roz tamasha mere aageik khel hai auraNg-e-sulemaaN mere nazdeek ik baat hai 'eijaz-e-maseeha mere aagejuz naam naheeN soorat-e-aalam mujhe manzoor juz waham naheeN hastee-e-ashiya mere aagehota hai nihaaN gard meiN sehara mere hote ghisata hai jabeeN KHaak pe dariya mere aagemat pooch ke kya haal hai mera tere peeche ? too dekh ke kya rang tera mere aagesach kahte ho, KHudbeen-o-KHud_aaraa na kyoN hooN ? baiTha hai but-e-aainaa_seemaa mere aagephir dekhiye andaaz-e-gul_afshaani-e-guftaar rakh de koee paimaanaa-o-sahba mere aagenafrat ka gumaaN guzare hai, maiN rashk se guzaraa kyoN kar kahooN, lo naam na uska mere aageimaaN mujhe roke hai jo khiNche hai mujhe kufr ka'aba mere peeche hai kaleesa mere aageaashiq hooN, pe maashooq_farebee hai mera kaam majnooN ko bura kehti hai laila mere aageKHush hote haiN par wasl meiN yoN mar naheeN jaate aayee shab-e-hijaraaN ki tamanna mere aagehai mauj_zan ik qulzum-e-KHooN, kaash, yahee ho aata hai abhee dekhiye kya-kya mere aagego haath ko jumbish naheeN aaNhoN meiN to dam hai rehne do abhee saaGHar-o-meena mere aageham_pesha-o-ham_masharb-o-ham_raaz hai mera 'GHalib' ko bura kyoN kaho achchaa mere aage !

English translation

A Children’s playground, the world before me Nightly and daily, watching its pageantryThe throne of Suleiman; but a game to me Miracles of Messiah; a mere simplicityNo name I accept; less the critic of the world The existence of things, to me seems absurdIn its dust hides the desert, when I appear Rivers bow on their banks, in my fearDon’t ask how I feel when You are not around Sincerity betrays You, wherever I am foundCorrect are you, I’m as proud as can be My beloved’s reflection, like a mirror to meTo watch how flowers spread on my command A goblet of wine is all I demandJealous am I; ‘tis envy I feel His name, to me, it does not appealFaith restricts, while sin allures Ka’aba at my back; the church in the foreA lover am I; deceit is my charm Laila faults Majnoon, when in my armsTorture it is; but our union a delight The thought of the anguish of the separation nightMy wish: our separation be exciting and elate I know not what future holds from this dateMy hands may be numb, but my eyes still have light Leave the decanter and cup in my sightMy habits, my callings, he shares all with me Ghalib, I fancy; my confidant is he

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The poem behind A Children’s Playground →

Ku-ba-ku — Petal to PetalParveen Shakir · Urdu · English translation by Umar RafiPetal to petal, spore to spore; rumors of love, spread, door to doorRead poem

Translation dated 2000.

Roman Urdu

ku-ba-ku phail gai bat shanasai ki us ne khushbu ki tarah meri pazirai kikaise kah dun k mujhe chor diya hai us ne bat to sach hai magar bat hai ruswai kiwo kahin bhi gaya lauta to mere pas aya bas yahi bat hai achi mere harjai kitera pahlu tere dil ki tarah abad rahe tujh pe guzre na qayamat shab-e-tanhai kius ne jalti hui peshani pe jo hath rakha ruh tak a gai tasir masihai ki

English translation

Petal to petal, spore to spore; rumors of love, spread, door to door Like the sweet scent, of a blooming rose; he courted me, ever so slowHow can I say, he has left me; he is here no more The infamy of this truth I cannot ignoreWherever he went, he returned; he came back to me His fickle virtue is enough to keep me happyMay, he, be in your arms; the one, you adore May the night of separation, never knock on your doorAs he lay his healing palm on my torrid brow A feeling of rejuvenation reached deep into my soul

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Zindagi Ke Jitnay Darwaze — All the Doors of LifeAhmad Nadeem Qasmi · Urdu · English translation by Umar RafiAll the doors of life are closed to meRead poem

Translation dated 2010.

Roman Urdu

Zindagi kay jitnay darwaze hain mujh par band hain Dekhna; hadd-e nazar se agay barh kar dekhna bhe jurm hae Sochna; apne aqeedoon aur yakeenoon se nikal kar sochna bhe jurm hae Asmaan dar asmaan asrar ki partein hata kar jhankna bhe jurm hae ""Kyun," bhe kehna jurm hae; ""Kaisay," bhe kehna jurm hae Sans lenay ki tou aazadi muyasar hae magar Zinda rehne kay liyay insaan ko kuch aur bhe darkar hae Aur is kuch aur ka tazkara bhe jurm hae Aey hunar mandan-e-aain-o-siyasat Aey khuda-wandan-e-aiwan-ikaid Zindagi ke naam par bus ik inayat chahiyeh mujjh ko in saray jaraim ki ijaazat chahiyeh

English translation

All the doors of life are closed to me Seeing; a crime to see beyond the boundaries of sight Thinking; a crime to think beyond beliefs and certainities A crime to remove layers upon layers of perceptions and to glimpse A crime to say, “Why;” a crime to say, “How” It is permissible to breath; but Life and its humanity requires something more Even a crime to utter the words, “Something more” O’ experts of constitutions and politics O’ self-appointed residents of religious mansions In the name of humanity, I want one right: I want the right to commit all these crimes

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Dasht-e-Tanhai — The Desert of SeclusionFaiz Ahmed Faiz · Urdu · English translation by Umar Rafiin the desert of seclusion, o love of my life, there tremblesRead poem

Roman Urdu

Dasht-e-tanhaee main ai jaan-e-jahaan larzaan hai Teri aavaaz kay saaey, teray honton kay saraabDasht-e-tanhaee main dooree kay khas-o-khaak talay Khil rahay hain teray pehloo kay saman or gulaabUth rahee hai kaheen qurbat say teri saans kee aanch Apnee khushboo main sulagti hooee madham madhamDour ufaq paar chamaktee hooee qatra qatra Gir rahee hai teri dildaar nazar kee shabnamIs qadar payaar say ai jaan-e-jahaan rakha hai Dil kay rukhsaar pay is waqt teri yaad nain haathYoon gumaan hota hai gerchay hai abhee subh-e-firaaq Dhal gaya hijr ka din aa bhi gaee wasl ki raat.

English translation

in the desert of seclusion, o love of my life, there trembles under the shadows of your voice; the illusion of your lipsin the desert of seclusion, beneath the ashes of separation blossom the jasmnes and roses of your intimacythe warmth of your breath, ascending from the proximity simmering in its own fragrance; gently, languidlyat a distance on the horizon, glistening, drop by drop recedes the dew of your seductive glancewith immense affection, my love, have you placed this time on the silhouette of my heart, your touch of remembrancethough it feels as if this is the dawn of our parting the morning of our separation has set; the night of our union has arrived

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Dil Hi To Hai — ’Tis my heartMirza Ghalib · Urdu · English translation by Umar Rafi‘Tis my heart, not brick, nor stone Read poem

Translation dated 2003.

Roman Urdu

Dil Hi To Hai Na Sang-o-Khist Dard Se Bhar Na Aaaye Kyon? Royenge Hum Hazaar Baar Koyee Hamein Sataye Kyon? Dair Nahin, Haram Nahin, Dar Nahin, Aastan Nahin Baithe Hain Reh-Guzar Pe Hum Gair Hamein Uthaye Kyon? Jab Voh Jamaal-e-Dilfaroze Surte-Mehre Neem-Roze Aap Hi Ho Nazaar-Soze Parde Mein Munh Chuppaye Kyon? Dashne-e-Gamaz Jaan-Sitan Naavke-Naaz Bepanah Tera Hi Akse-Rukh Sahi, Saamne Teray Aaye Kyon? Qaide-Hayat-O-Band-e-Gam, Asl Mein Dono Aik Hain Maut Say Pehlay Aadmi Gum Say Nijaat Paye Kyon? Husn Aur Us Pe Husn-e-Zun Reh Gayee Bulhavas Ki Sharm Apne Pe Eitmad Hai, Gair Ko Aazmaye Kyon? Van Voh Garure-Izz-o-Naaz Yan Yeh Hijabe-Paase-Vazan Rah Mein Hum Milain Kahan Bazm Mein Voh Bulaye Kyon? Han Voh Nahin Khuda Parasat Jaao Voh Baiwafa Sahi Jisko Ho Din-o-Dil Aziz Uski Gali Mein Jaye Kyon? Ghalib-e-Khasta Kay Bagair Kaunsay Kaam Band Hain? Roeeye Zar-Zar Kaya? Keejiye Haye-Haye Kyon?

English translation

‘Tis my heart, not brick, nor stone Weeps like others; don’t you know? It will cry, a thousand times Why, do you, torture it so? At temples, mosques, nor at his door Not even, on, my beloved’s porch I wait, along a distant road Why do others, ask me to go? His face, its beauty, lights my heart Brighter than, the midday’s glow His sight, it sears, with every gaze Why is it, he veils it so? Your tender glance, a fatal knife Like haughty darts, from a deadly bow Your image is, enough for me My self, to you, I dare not show Life, a prison; my anguish, its chain Filled with sorrow; both, the same Is my wish, for death, insane? How else, do I, remove my pain? Beauty does agree with you Lust - ‘tis my carnal quest I must control, my inner thoughts Why have you, put me, to this test? There; a modest dignity Here; a show of shy respect Can we meet, along the way? Will he call me, to his fest? I know, he does not, fear God Disloyal and faithless, he maybe The loyal, the faithful, those two They have never, interested me Ghalib, the wretch; when he leaves The world, without him, will not cease So, when he dies, no need to mourn So, when he dies, no need to grieve

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Punjabi translations

Ajj Aakhaan Waris Shah Nu — Today I Call Waris ShahAmrita Pritam · Punjabi · English translation by Umar RafiToday, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave”Read poem

Translation dated 2005.

Roman Punjabi

aaj aakhaN Waris Shah nuuN, kitoN kabraaN vichchoN bol, te aaj kitab-e ishq daa koii aglaa varkaa pholik roii sii dhii punjaab dii, tuuN likh likh maare vaen, aaj lakhaaN dhiiaaN rondiaa, tainuN waris shah nuN kahenuTh dardmandaaN diaa dardiaa, uth takk apnaa Punjaab aaj bele lashaaN bichhiaaN te lahu dii bharii Chenabkise ne panjaN paniaN vichch dittii zahar ralaa te unhaaN paniiaaN dharat nuuN dittaa paanii laais zarkhez zamiin de luun luun phuttia zaher gitth gitth charhiaaN laaliaN fuuT fuuT charhiaa kaherveh valliissii vha pher, van van vaggii jaa, ohne har ik vans di vanjhalii ditti naag banaapehlaa dang madaariaN, mantar gaye guaach, dooje dang di lagg gayii, jane khane nuN laaglaagaaN kiile lok muNh, bus phir dang hi dang, palo palii punjaab de, neele pae gaye anggale`oN tutt`e geet phir, takaleon tuttii tand, trinjanoN tuttiaaN saheliaaN, chaRakhRre ghuukar bandsane sej de beriaaN, luddaN dittiaaN rohr, sane daliaan peengh aj, piplaaN dittii toRjitthe vajdii sii phuuk pyaar dii, ve oh vanjhalii gayii guaach raanjhe de sab veer aaj, bhul gaye uhadii jaachdhartii te lahoo varsiyaa, kabraaN paiaaN choan preet diaaN shaahzaadiaaN, aaj vichch mazaaraaN roanaaj sabbhe `Qaido` ban gaye, husn ishq de chor aaj kitthoN liaaiye labbh ke waris shah ik horaaj aakhaN waris shah nuuN, kitoN kabraan vichchoN bol, te aaj kitaab-e ishq daa, koii aglaa varkaa phol

English translation

Today, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave” And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate pageOnce, a daughter of Punjab cried; you wrote a wailing saga Today, a million daughters, cry to you Waris ShahRise! O’ narrator of the grieving; rise! look at your Punjab Today, fields are lined with corpses and blood fills the ChenabSomeone mixed poison in the five rivers’ flow Their deadly water, now, irrigates our lands galoreThis fertile land is sprouting venom from every pore The sky is turning red with endless cries of goreThe toxic forest wind, screams within its wake Turning every singing flute into a deadly snakeWith the first snake-bite; charmers lost their spell The second bite turned all of them into snakes as wellDrinking from this deadly stream, filling the land with bane Slowly, Punjab’s limbs have turned black and blue with painThe street-songs have been silenced; cotton threads have snapped Girls have left their playgroups; the spinning wheels have crackedOur wedding boats; their oarsmen, have sent them all asea Our hanging swings broken; by their sheltering Pipal treeLost is the flute, which once blew sounds of our heart Ranjha’s brothers, today, no longer know this artBlood rained on our shrines; drenching them to the core Damsels of amore, today, sit crying at their doorToday, all are ‘Qaido;’ thieves of beauty and ardor Where can we go to find, another Warish Shah once moreToday, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave” And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate page

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Bulleh! Ki Jaana Main Kaun — Bulleh! To me, I am not knownBulleh Shah · Punjabi · English translation by Umar RafiBulleh! To me, I am not knownRead poem

Translation dated 1999.

Roman Punjabi

Bulleh! ki jaana maen kaunNa maen momin vich maseet aan Na maen vich kufar diyan reet aan Na maen paakaan vich paleet aan Na maen moosa na pharaunBulleh! ki jaana maen kaunNa maen andar ved kitaab aan, Na vich bhangaan na sharaab aan Na vich rindaan masat kharaab aan Na vich jaagan na vich saun.Bulleh! ki jaana maen kaunNa vich shaadi na ghamnaaki Na maen vich paleeti paaki Na maen aabi na maen khaki Na maen aatish na maen paunBulleh! ki jaana maen kaunNa maen arabi na lahori Na maen hindi shehar nagauri Na hindu na turak peshawri Na maen rehnda vich nadaunBulleh! ki jaana maen kaunNa maen bheth mazhab da paaya Ne maen aadam havva jaaya Na maen apna naam dharaaya Na vich baitthan na vich bhaunBulleh! ki jaana maen kaunAvval aakhir aap nu jaana Na koi dooja hor pehchaana Maethon hor na koi siyaana Bulla! ooh khadda hai kaunBulleh! ki jaana maen kaun.

English translation

Bulleh! To me, I am not knownNot a believer inside the mosque, am I Nor a pagan disciple of false rites Not the pure amongst the impure Neither Moses, nor the PharaohBulleh! To me, I am not knownNot in the holy Vedas, am I Nor in opium, neither in wine Not in the drunkard`s intoxicated craze Neither awake, nor in a sleeping dazeBulleh! To me, I am not knownIn happiness nor in sorrow, am I Neither clean, nor a filthy mire Not from water, nor from earth Neither fire, nor from air, is my birthBulleh! To me, I am not knownNot an Arab, nor Lahori Neither Hindi, nor Nagauri Hindu, Turk (Muslim), nor Peshawari Nor do I live in NadaunBulleh! To me, I am not knownSecrets of religion, I have not known From Adam and Eve, I am not born I am not the name I assume Not in stillness, nor on the moveBulleh! To me, I am not knownI am the first, I am the last None other, have I ever known I am the wisest of them all Bulleh! Do I stand alone?Bulleh! To me, I am not known

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English poetry

The Atheist’s ArgumentUmar Rafi · EnglishWhen death arrives, I shall not dieRead poem

When death arrives, I shall not die Like a flowing river, I will pass it byA shining donut in a palatial cafe I will simply dissolve into a cup of latteFear of doomsday; all delusions and dreams Arafat; I will avert, when I hear such screamsMy heart believes; my mind denies The mosque at a distance; will a temple suffice?God's love heals; the paramour's may churn In my beloveds' arms; in hell I shall burnSatan's debate; the pretensions of faith Walk past the mosque with a quiet gaitFate of inquiry; an exit from heavens? Flee such gardens; the Edens and AdnsPursuit is my mosque; this world is my lair Much to be done, beyond worship and prayerSave I behold, Moses' surprise Convictions of science, I cannot denyYour horde is for pagans and heathens Umar For angels and seers, look somewhere else

Pity the NationUmar Rafi · EnglishPity the nation whose soldier is a businessmanRead poem

Pity the nation whose soldier is a businessman Whose businessman is a politician; whose politician is an actor Whose actor is a priest and whose priest is a soldierPity the nation whose history is trapped in fiction Whose fiction trapped in religion And whose religion trapped in the minds of those who understand neither fiction nor historyPity the nation where labor is abundant Each child a laborer Each woman a commodity; designated to produce more labor Pity the nation, where drones are cherished But life is cheap Where damage is incidental and death is collateralPity the nation where liquor flows freely Yet free-thought is a luxury Whose boozers too fake to think; whose thinkers too rigid to drinkPity the nation where only men can dance Its girls bullied into modesty; save for when flesh is on sale Each strut of her body under the shadows of sleazy merriment and ill-begotten currency....Pity the nation whose canons are loud Whose poets quiet Their poetry filled, not with love and romance, but with revenge and angerPity the nation whose artists are fearful Whose preachers fearless And whose greatest minds, numb with cynicism, neither fearful nor fearlessPity the nation whose general stands proudly Not at the helm of charging brigades But at the dais of political gatherings....

The Poets of HomeUmar Rafi · EnglishWinter days, their nights so longRead poem

Written on 27 December 2004, Ghalib’s birth anniversary.

Winter days, their nights so long My soul yearns for a lover’s song Silent lakes with frozen brows Distant peaks, where moonlight glowsI think of all the bards of yore Their winsome charms, their words galore Yet, none can soothe my dismal soul Milton, Goethe, nor RousseauMy heart longs for a different world With timid boys and bashful girls A land in which the Indus flows A land in which the Ganga strollsLeftist cries of, “We Shall See” Will quench your thirsts and shake your knees With Faiz, I feel my destiny Does not belong to foreign shoresThose promises of loyalty You may or may not agree Aching love; Momin’s amore The dying cries of a deer’s woesA conquered land, with mutinies Weeping odes, a once brave king Zafar, reciting poetry Quietly, in his gallowsThe tolling bell, it calls to me Each verse drenched in energy Iqbal and his philosophies Of soaring birds and a withering roseThe Fragrance of Beena’s pen Will it ever write again? Soliloquies, Refusals, Marigolds The young death of a blooming proseThe sun comes out, so strong, so bold My soul has found its lover’s door But tell me what to do Umar My heart still aches for something moreSo when I need that healing touch Beyond the words of Mir, and such A tender thought, a poet’s lib I turn to you, Mirza Ghalib

GatherUmar Rafi · EnglishGather 'round people, lend me your ear Read poem

2004 · Written during the anti-Iraq war protests in Toronto.

Gather 'round people, lend me your ear Open your minds and all will be clear Burn down the flags you hold so dear Raise your voice; there is nothing to fear "Speak! your lips are free” as a bird Speak! if you don't, you'll never be heard Speak! and speak, till you can speak no more Speak! till your words knock on God's doorIf you cannot speak, then talk through your eyes Wipe off your tears and hold your head high 'Tis where you finish, not where you begin "For the loser now, will be later to win" Not only thy neighbour, love all men, alike "Don't break people's heart, 'tis where God resides;" But If ever attacked in the day or the night Stand up and fight!; you must stand up and fight "The jackal's wedding," under the desert palms The faceless killers, drunk to their bones No friends of yours and no friends of mine Go! spit in their beer and piss in their wine "The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on" Your troubles will pass; a new day will dawn The sun and the moon are at His command "As-shams-u wal qamaru bay-husbaan" "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust" Return to our Lord, someday, we must; But, To the day of your death, from the day of your birth "Live like a falcon, in the mountain's hearth" So, if your hands are tied and you are down on your knees It seems as if troubles shall never cease; Remember "They can bomb the world to pieces But they can't bomb it into peace"

Urdu poetry

بحثِ غشاشUmar Rafi · Urdu poetryKoun kehta hae ke mout aaye to mar jaoon gaRead poem

UrduRoman Urdu

کون کہتا ہے کہ موت آئے تو مر جاؤں گا
میں تو دریا ہوں، سمندر میں اتر جاؤں گا

Koun kehta hae ke mout aaye to mar jaoon ga
Mein to daryaa houn, sumandar mein utar jaoon ga

قصرِ ڈنکن کے چمکتے ہوئے ڈونٹ کی طرح
ایک لاٹے کی پیالی میں پگھل جاؤں گا

Qasr-e-Dunkin ke chamktay huway donut ki tarah
Aik latte ki piyali mein pighal jaoon ga

شورِ محشر ہے فقط وہمِ اذیت کی صدا
جبلِ رحمہ کے کنارے سے ہی مڑ جاؤں گا

Shour-e-mehshar hay faqat wahm-e-izziyyat ki sada
Jabl-e-Rahma kay kinaray sae hi murh jaoon ga

دل تو مومن ہے، مگر عقل ابھی کافر ہے
کعبہ ہو دور تو مندر میں چلا جاؤں گا

Dil tou momin hae, magar aqal abhi kaafir hae
Kaaba ho dour tou mandir mein chalaa jaoon ga

عشقِ خالق میں جزا، عشقِ مجازی میں سزا
نظرِ محبوب میں دوزخ سے گزر جاؤں گا

Ishq-e-Khaliq mein jazaa, Ishq-e-majaazi mein sazaa
Nazr-e-mehboob maen dozakh sae guzar jaoon ga

بحثِ ابلیس کہاں، حجتِ ایمان کہاں
دیرِ مسجد سے دبے پاؤں پلٹ آؤں گا

Bahs-e-Iblees kahaan, hujaat-e-imaan kahaan
Dair-e-masjid sae dabay paoon palat aaoon ga

کیا ہے انجامِ طلب؟ خارجِ گلزارِ عدن
رت سے پہلے ہی میں جنت سے نکل جاؤں گا

Kyaa hae anjaam-e-talab?; khaaraj-e-gulzaar-e-Adn
Rut sae pehlay he mein jannat sae nikal jaoon ga

اور بھی کام ہیں عالم میں، عبادت ہی نہیں
زیرِ ابراز میں سجدے میں نہیں جاؤں گا

Aur bhi kaam hein aalam mein, ibaadat he nahin
Zair-e-abraaz mein sajday mein nahin jaoon ga

اے خدا مجھ کو دکھا معجزِ جلوۂ طور
ورنہ میں شاخِ یقینی سے پھسل جاؤں گا

Aye Khuda mujh ko dikha mujaz-e-jalwa-e-toor
Warna mein shaakh-e-yaqeeni sae phisaal jaoon ga

تو تو کچھ اور ہی لگنے لگا غشاش عمر
تیری صحبت میں الٰہی کو کدھر پاؤں گا

Tu tou kuch aur he lagnay lagaa ghushshash Umar
Teri suhbat mein Ilahi ko kidhar paoon ga

Explore Treasures of Time

Treasures of Time

The artist

Why he painted it

What it depicts

Understanding the numbers

The 46 figures

Bayt al-Hikma

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Roman Urdu

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Roman Urdu

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Roman Urdu

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Roman Urdu

English translation

Roman Urdu

English translation

Punjabi translations

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Roman Punjabi

English translation

English poetry

Urdu poetry