- - - -
You alone exist; I do not, O Beloved!
You alone exist, I do not!
Like the shadow of a house in ruins,
I revolve in my own mind.
If I speak, you speak with me:
If I am silent, you are in my mind.
If I sleep, you sleep with me:
If I walk, you are along my path.
Oh Bulleh, the spouse has come to my house:
My life is a sacrifice unto Him.
You alone exist; I do not, O Beloved!
- - -
Baba Bhullay Shah
Poems describe beauty of nature in an eloquent manner. This blog is an endeavor to provide place for some of the elegant poems and sufiana kalaam......
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Repeating the name of Beloved ~ ~ Bhulay Shah
- - -
Repeating the name of the Beloved
I have become the Beloved myself.
Whom shall I call the Beloved now?
- - -
Bhullay Shah
Repeating the name of the Beloved
I have become the Beloved myself.
Whom shall I call the Beloved now?
- - -
Bhullay Shah
Moons & Junes & Ferris Wheels...
Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way
But now it's just another show
And you leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away
I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all...
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way
But now it's just another show
And you leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away
I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all...
Thursday, September 23, 2010
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (sonnet) ~ ~ William Shakespeare

- - - -
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
- - - - -
William Shakespeare
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