Kalam Hazrat Sultan Bahu – 10/10

Naal kusangee sang na karee-e,
Kul noon laaj na laaee-e hoo.

Timme mool tarbooz na honde,
Torh makke lai jaaee-e hoo.

Kaan de bachche hans na theende,
Pae motee chog chugaaee-e hoo.

Kaurhe khooh na mitthe hunde,
Sai manaan khand paaee-e hoo.

Shun the company of the ill-reputed,
Lest it should discredit your family.

Never will a bitter melon turn sweet,
Even if you take on a pligrimage to Mecca.

Never will the offspring of a crow grow into a swan,
Even if you nourish it on pearls.

Never will the water of a bitter well turn sweet,
Even if you pour tons of sugar into it.


Nit asaade khalle khaandee,
Ehaa duneeaa zishtee hoo.

Jainde kaaran baih baih rovan,
Sheikh, mushaaikh, Chishtee hoo.

Jinhaan andar hubb duneeaa dee,
Gharq unhaan dee kishtee hoo.

Tark duneeaa dee kar toon Baahoo,
Khaasaa raah bahishtee hoo.

This foul, ugly world For which priests and leaders of religion shed tears
Is rebuffed and rebuked by the lovers of God.

If you are ambitious for the world,
You will drown midstream in the ocean of life.

Let us renounce the world, O Bahu,
And adopt the invaluable path to God.


Nafal namaazaan kamm zanaanaa,
Roze sarfaa rotee hoo.

Makke de val soee jaande,
Gharon jinhaan tarotee hoo.

Uchcheeaan baangaan soee devan,
Neeat jinhaan dee khotee hoo.

Keeh parvaah tinhaan noon,
jinhaan Ghar wich laddhee bauhtee hoo.

Formal prayer and prostration are feeble pursuits.
Fasting has little merit, other than to save food.

Only they go on pilgrimage to Mecca
Who are not wanted at home.

Only they pray loudly, professing their devotion,
Who are deceptive of intent.

But those who have found God’s Name in their hearts
Care not to fast nor prostrate themselves in formal prayer.


Na oh Hindu na oh momin,
Na sajdaa den maseetee hoo.

Dam dam de wich wekhan Maulaa,
Jinhaan qazaa na keetee hoo.

Aahe daane bane divane,
Zaat sahee vanj keetee hoo.

Main qurbaan tinhaan ton Baahoo,
Ishq baazee jin leetee hoo.

Not Hindu’s no Muslims-
Free of religious ties, lovers don’t pray in temples;

But they never take a break from their devotions
And are always in communion with the Lord within.

Absorbed in the essence of the Lord,
They feign ignorance to conceal their wisdom.

I sacrifice myself to anyone, O Bahu,
Who eneters the arena of love and wins its game.


Na Rabb arsh mu-alla utte,
Na Rabb khaavve Kaabe hoo.

Na Rabb ilm kitaabeen labbhaa,
Na Rabb wich maihraabe hoo.

Ganga teerath mool na miliaa,
Painde be-hisaabe hoo.

Jad daa murshid pharhiaa Baahoo,
Chhutte sab aazaabe hoo.

God doesn’t live in the highest heaven,
Nor can he be found in the holy shrine of Ka’ba.

No one ever found him through learning
Or by knowing the scriptures.

I never met him through bathing in holy waters-
I roamed far and wide in a fruitless search.

But I was rid of all my despair and anguish
When I put myself in my Master’s hands, O Bahu.


Na koee taalib, na koee murshid,
Sab dilaase mutthe hoo.

Raah faqr daa pare parere,
Hirs duneeaa dee kutthe hoo.

Shauq Ilaahee ghaalib hoiaa,
Jind marne te utthe hoo.

Jain tan bharhke bhaah birhon dee,
Maran tirhaae bhukkhe hoo.

There aer few genuine disciples.
People purporting to be Masters Perpetuate themselves with false promises.

They exploit their followers to satisfy their greed;
They have no inkling of the exaltation of the mystic path.

But when their hearts are touched by God’s love,
They willingly sacrifice their lives on this path.

People who burn in the fire of worldly passions
Will die hungry and thirsty for the world.


Na main jogee na main jangam,
Na main chillaa kamaaiaa hoo.

Na main bhajj maseetee varhiaa,
Na tasbaa kharhkaaiaa hoo.

Jo dam ghaaril so dam kaafir,
Murshid eh farmaaiaa hoo.

Murshid sohnee keetee Baahoo,
Pal wich chaa pahunchaaiaa hoo.

I am not a yogi, I am not a jangam.*
I don’t do forty-day retreats.

I have never escaped to a mosque,
Nor have I ever rattled the beads of a rosary.

My Master has taught me a precious lesson:
The moment you have forgotten to remember God
Is the moment you have spent in denial of God!

O, what a marvel my Master has performed-
In no time has he transported me to the Lord!
(A kind of Hindu mendicant with matted hair and bells; a worshiper of Shiva)


Na main ser na paa chhataakee,
Na pooree sarsaahee hoo.

Na main tolaa, na main maasaa,
Gal rattiaan te aaee hoo.

Rattee hovaan rattiaan tullaan,
Oh bhee pooree naahee hoo.

Wazan tol pooraa tad hosee,
Jad hosee fazal Ilaahee hoo.

I am neither a seer nor a pao.*
I am not a chhatak nor quite a sarsahi.

I am not a tola nor indeed a masha.
I must now weigh myself against a ratti.

But I find I am even less significant
Than a ratti, the smallest measure of weight!

I will only assume my true worth
When the Lord showers his grace on me!
(A sser is a weight measure, slightly less than a kilogram. Bahu takes seer as the standard representing a spiritually mature person. He mentions other weight measures (give in italics) in their descending order-right down to ratti, the smallest measure. This bait is on humility and self abnegation, inferring that we are totally worthless; that it is God’s grace alone that can invest our couls with value)


Na main Sunnee, na main Sheeaa,
Dohaan ton fil sarhiaa hoo.

Mukk gae sabh khushkee painde,
Jad dariaa wahadat varhiaa hoo.

Kaee mantaare tar tar haare,
Koee kinaare charhhiaa hoo.

Sahee salaamat paar gae,
Jinh murshid daa larh pharhiaa hoo.

I am neither a Sunni nor a Shia:
Both make me sick; both cause me heartburn.

The arid part of my journey ended
When I turned away from both
And plunged into the ocean of oneness.

Many dived into that ocean ill-prepared,
And drowned- Only the rare one who was able to swim across!

But those who held fast to their Master’s hand
Safely landed ashore.


Na main aalim, na main faazil,
Na muftee na qazee hoo.

Na dil meraa dozakh te,
Na shauq bahishteen raazee hoo.

Na main treehe roze rakkhe,
Na main paak namaazee hoo.

Bajh wisaal Allaah de Baahoo,
Duneeaa koorhee baazee hoo.

I am neither scholarly nor virtuous;
I am not a priest, Nor am I an expounder of Qur’anic law.

I crave not heavenn, I fear not hell.

I have never fasted for the thrity days of ramzaan,
Nor have I been a devout worshipper in a mosque.

This world is but a false drama
Unless union is attained with God, O Bahu


Naheen faqeeree jhalliaan maaran,
Suttiaan lok jagaavan hoo.

Naheen faqeeree vaihndeeaan nadeeaan,
Sukkiaan paar langhaavan hoo.

Naheen faqeeree wich havaa de,
Sajjaadaa thairaavan hoo.

Naam faqeer tinhaan da,
jehrhe Dil wich dost tikaavan hoo.

Spiritual life does not consist Of loud prayers and frenzied dancing-
They only upset the peace and quiet of early morning.

Walking on water is not spirituality

Nor is praying on mats suspended in mid air.

They alone may be called mystics, O Bahu,
Who have enshrined the Friend in their hearts.


Nerhe wassan door daseevan,
Vehrhe naaheen varhde hoo.

Andar dhoondan vall na aaiaa,
Baahir dhoondan charhhde hoo.

Door giaan kujh haasil naahin,
Shauh labbhe wich ghar de hoo.

Dil kar saiqal sheeshe vaangoon,
Door theevan kul parde hoo.

The Lord lives nearby but seems so far away:

You don’t know how to look for him within!

Nothing will be achieved by looking outside-
He lives right in your own backyard!

All the veils will be lifted, O Bahu,
When you remove all the coverings of dirt,
And your heart shines like a mirror.


Wahadat de dariaa uchhalle,
Jal thal jangal reene hoo.

Ishq dee zaat maneende naaheen,
Saangaan jhall tapeene hoo.

Ang bhabhoot maleende ditthe,
Sai javaan lakheene hoo.

Main qurbaan tinhaan ton,
jehrhe Hondee himmat heene hoo.

The river of oneness has surged,
Quenching the thirst of the deserts and wastelands.

If you don’t nurture God’s love in your heart,
You will be dry and parched like those deserts-

I have seen many a young ascetic smeared with ash.

I sacrifice myself to anyone, O Bahu,
Who humbles himself in his youth and power.


Wahadat de dariaa ucchalle,
Hik dil sahee na keetee hoo.

Hik butkhaane waasil thee-e,
Hik parhh parhh rahe maseetee hoo.

Fazil chhadd fazeelat baithe,
Ishq baazee jaan leetee hoo.

Hargiz Rabb na mildaa,
jinhaan Trattee chaurh na keetee hoo.

The ocean of oneness overflowed with love,
But still people went thirsty- They didn’t open their hearts.

Some merged with the Lord through idol worship;
Others wasted their time with scriptures in mosques.

But when their hearts were touched by God’s love,
These scholars denounced their learning.

You will never be worthy of meeting God, O Bahu,
If you have not sacrificed your all for him.


Wahadat de dariaa Ilaahee,
Aashiq lainde taaree hoo.

Maaran tubbeeaan kaddhan motee,
Aapo-apnee vaaree hoo.

Durr-e-yateem lae lishkaare,
Jion chann laataan maaree hoo.

So kion naaheen haasil bharde,
Jo naukar sarkaaree hoo.

The Lord is an ocean of oneness
In which lovers swim as they please, free of care.

In their own turn, they appear in the world
To dive deep into that ocean, to gather pearls.

Among the pearls is a gem- Unique in value, unmatched in lustre-
That shines like the moon.*

We are all in the employ of the Lord, O Bahu;
Let us pay homage to him through our paryers.
(A pearl of unique value signifies the Word of God, or Kalma)


Vanjan sir te farz hai mainoon,
Qaul qaalu balaa kar ke hoo.

Lok jaane mutfakkar hoeeaan,
Wich wahadat de varh ke hoo.

Shauh deeaan maaraan Shauh vanj laihsaan,
Ishq tullaa sir dhar ke hoo.

Jeeondiaan Shauh kise na paaiaa,
Jain laddhaa tain mar ke hoo.

Ever since the Lord ordained the Creation,
I have been pledged to return to my original home.

People know, from my quest for unity in God,
That I am as anxious as I am eager to merge with him.

I shall bear the blows of destiny as I pursue him,
While I am ferried across to him on the boat of his love.

No one ever found the Lord while living, O Bahu,
exept those who found him By dying while living.


Vaih vaih nadeeaan taaroo hoeeaan,
Bambal chhorhe kaahaan hoo.

Yaar asaadaa rang mahalleen,
Dar te khale sikaahaan hoo.

Na koee aave, na koee jaave,
Kain hath likh munjaahaan hoo.

Jekar khabr jaanee dee aave,
Kaleeon phull theevaahaan hoo.

Water flows in streams, like life in the river of time.
The reeds have blossomed again-
Another season of life has passed!

I still tarry on my Lord’s doorstep-
Waiting for the nod to enter his glorious palace.

I see no one going in, no one coming out-
How can I get my heart’s message to him?

The bud of my heart would unfurl into a flower
Were I to receive his Word, Were I called to his presence.


Hardam sharm dee tand tarorhe,
Jaan eh chhodak bulle hoo.

Kichrak baalaan aqal daa deevaa,
Birhon anheree jhulle hoo.

Ujarh giaan de bhet niaare,
Lal jawaahar rulle hoo.

Dhotiaan dagh na lainhnde,
jitthe Rang majeethee dullhe hoo.

My deep sighs have raised such a storm
That the restraining cords of shyness have snapped.

How long will the sickly flame of reason
Hold against the storm of yearning that rages in my heart?

Precious like rubies and diamonds in our own Home,
Now we live like destitute aliens-deserted and helpless.

Once you are dyed in the crimson of God’s love
The colour will never wash off,
For such is the hue of his love-deep and fast!


Hassan de ke rovan lioee,
Dittaa kis dilaasaa hoo.

Umar bande dee ainven gaee,
Jion paanee wich pataasaa hoo.

Saurhi saamee sutt ghatesan,
Palat na saksain paasaa hoo.

Saahib lekhaa mangsee Baahoo,
Rattee ghatt na maasaa hoo.

Banished from my home of bliss and happiness,
I was cast out to this vale of tears.
No one came to lend a hand; No one consoled my ailing heart.

Pointless was my existence:
I vanished from the scene Like a sugar cube tossed into the ocean!

Finally I was lowered into that narrow hole in the ground
Where I couldn’t even turn on my side.

To crown it all, O Bahu, the Lord now demands
The full settlement of my account-to that last farthing!


Hik jaagan, hik jaag na jaanan,
Hik jaagdiaan hee sutte hoo.

Hik suttian jaa waasil hoo,
Hik jaagdiaan hee mutthe hoo.

Keeh hoiaa je ghuggoo jaage,
Jo laindaa saah aputthe hoo.

Main qurbaan tinhaan ton Baahoo,
Jinh khooh prem de jutte hoo.

Some people are awake, Some don’t know how to wake up,
Some are awake only in their dreams.

A few get robbed in their seeming wakefulness,
While others merge in God as they sleep to the world.

Just as owls hoot using the in-breath,
So do some people repeat God’s name with the in-breath.
But they are blind to Reality, just as owls are to daylight.

I make myself a sacrifice to anyone, O Bahu,
Who toils hard at realizing God’s love.


Hik dam sajjan, lakh dam vairee,
Hik de maare marde hoo.

Hik dam pichhe janam gavaaiaa,
Chor bane ghar ghar de hoo.

Laaeeaan dee oh qadar keeh jaanan,
Maiharam ho na sirr de hoo.

Oh kion dhakke khaavan,
jehrhe Taalib sachche dar de hoo.

There is but one moment in your life that is a friend,
Against the millions that are your foes. *
That one moment is so charged with power That it surmounts
The effect of those millions of adversaries.

Anyone who misses that moment wastes his entire life,
Like a theif shifting from house to house.**

How can those who don’t know the mystery of God
Know the value of love?

If you anchor your hopes in your true Home,
You will never be driven from house to house.
(The particular moment in the life of a seeker when he is initiated by a Master into the secrets of God. The foes are those moments that are spent in worldly pursuits that take one away from God)
(From house to house’ is to shift from body to body in the cycle of transmigration)


Hik hik peer ton aalam kooke,
Lakh aashiq peerh saherhee hoo.

Dhain, rurhhan jith khatree hove,
Kaun charhe us berhee hoo.

Aashiq naik salaahee charhde,
Taar kappar wich bherhee hoo.

Jith ishq tulendaa naal rattee de,
Aashiq lazzat nakherhee hoo.

People howl and cry over the slightest of discomforts,
While lovers gladly embrace a million torments.

Who would risk his life boarding a ship
If the waves were hitting it hard And the shore collapsing?

Lovers joyously board the ship of God’s love-
Even though their souls are pitched Against the vortices of life.

Unsurpassed is the joy of lovers in the court of the Lord,
Where love is weighed in the smallest measure, O Bahu!*
(where every single moment devoted to the remembrance of God’s Name is credited to the soul’s account)


Hor dawaa na dil dee kaaree,
Kalmaa dil daa kaaree hoo.

Kalma door zangaar karendaa,
Kalme mail utaaree hoo.

Kalmaa heere, laal, jawaahar,
Kalmaa hatt pasaaree hoo.

Ethe othe doheen jahaaneen,
Kalmaa daulat saree hoo.

Kalma cures the ailment of the heart-
No other medicine works.

Kalma removes all rust from the mind;
Kalma washes all stains form the soul.

Kalma is more precious than diamonds and rubies.

Kalma is the alchemist’s shop, O Bahu;
Kalma is real wealth in this world and the next.


Hoo daa jaamaa paihan karaahaan,
Ism kamaavaan zaatee hoo.

Kufr Islaam, maqaam na manzil,
Na uth maut hayaatee hoo.

Shaah-rag theen nazdeek ladhose,
Paa androone jhaatee hoo.

Oh asaan wich, aseen unhaan wich,
Dorr rahee qurbaatee hoo.

Mystics live in this world as Hu personified;
They practise the Name that is the essence of God.

They live in Hu- Beyond religion,
Beyond belief and unbelief, Beyond life and death.

If you explore the path within yourself,
You will find God nearby, through the Royal Vein.

He now lives in me and I in him, O Bahu:
Not only distance from him But even nearness to him Has become irrelevant!


Yaar yagaanaa milsee taan je,
Sir dee baazee laaen hoo.

Ishq Allaah wich ho mastaanaa,
Hoo hoo sadaa alaaen hoo.

Naal tasawwur Ism Allaah de,
Dam noon qaid lagaaen hoo.

Zaate naal je zaat rale,
Tad Baahoo naam sahaaen hoo.

You will only meet the unrivalled Beloved
If you offer your head on the altar of his love.

Then, in an ecstasy of love,
You will repeat the Name of Hu constantly,

Devoting every breath of your life
In contemplation of him.

Only when your soul merges in the essence of the Lord
Will you deserve the name ‘Bahu’.

English translation:

Filed under: Sufism, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Kalam Hazrat Sultan Bahu – 9/10


Gujjhe saae saahib waale,
Naheen kujh khabr asal dee hoo.

Gandam daanaa bahutaa chugiaa,
Gal paee dor azal dee hoo.

Phaahee de wich main paee tarhpaan,
Bulbul baagh misal dee hoo.

Ghair dile theen sutt ke Baahoo,
Rakhee-e aas fazal dee hoo.

Unknown to me now are the mysteries of my Lord-
My origin I have all but forgotten!

The temptation to eat the forbidden fruit
Put the noose of destiny around my neck.

Once I sang like a nightingale in my Lord’s garden-
Trapped in this mortal cage, I now flutter with pain.

Discard love for everything else from your heart,
And pray only for his grace to call you back, O Bahu.


Godarheeaan wich laal jinhaan dee,
Raateen jaagon addheeaan hoo.

Sik maahee dee tikan na dendee,
Lokeen dende badeeaan hoo.

Andar meraa Haqq tapaaiaa,
Khaleeaan raateen kaddhiaan hoo.

Tan theen maas alaihdaa hoiaa,
Sookh jhulaare haddeeaan hoo.

People with rubies in their ragged bundles*
Wake up in the dead of night to meditate on Kalma.

Their intense longing to meet the Beloved Permits them no rest,
While the ignorant hurl abuse at them.

Many nights have I stood in prayer and supplication;
My heart burns in the fire of longing for the Lord.

My grief has soaked up my blood And shrivelled my loosened skin,
Making my bones rattle in this skeletal frame-
Such is the depth of my separation from the Beloved!
(Rubies in a ragged bundle is an expression meaning a person outwardly poor but gifted with rich inner qualities. Rubies, in the present case, signifies Kalma within the ragged bundle of the body)


Gia eemaan ishqe de paaron,
Ho ke kaafir rahee-e hoo.

Ghat zunaaur kufar daa gal wich,
Buttkhaane wich bahee-e hoo.

Jis jaa jaanee nazar na aave,
Sajdaa mool na daee-e hoo.

Jaan kar jaanee nazar na aave,
Kalmaa mool na kahee-e hoo.

When love of God enters you heart,
Religion will fall by the wayside And you will be left in infidel.

You should then wear The sacred thread of idol worshipers
And live in the idol house [of your heart].

For futile is prostration Where the Beloved is not manifest;

Pointless the repitition of the Kalma
Where the Beloved is not seen face to face.


Laam-laahoo ghairee dhande,
Hik pal mool na raihnde hoo.

Ishq ne putte rukh jarhaan theen,
Hik dam haul na saihnde hoo.

Jehrhe patthar vaang paharaan,
Loon vaangoon gal vaihnde hoo.

Ishq je saukhaa hundaa Baahoo,
Sab aashiq ban baihnde hoo.

When you attach yourself to the Lord Alla’hu
All your worldly involvements are at once ended.

Love has pulled out huge trees of worldly attachment
By the root- Where before, even the worst storm Wouldn’t dislodge a leaf.

Love has dissolved huge rocks of carnal passion
As though they were salt.

Love is not child’s play, O Bahu!
If it were, everyone would have become a lover of God.


Laayuhtaaj jinhaan noon hoiaa,
Faqr jinhaan noon saaraa hoo.

Nazar jinhaan dee keemeeaa hove,
Oh kion maaran paaraa hoo.

Dost jinhaan daa haazir hove,
Dushman lain na vaaraa hoo.

Main qurbaan tinhaan ton, Baahoo,
Jinh miliaa nabee sahaaraa hoo.

Lovers who completely renounce the world
Become contented and free from want.

They need practise no alchemy,
For they can, with but one glance, Turn base metal into gold.

Their enemies have no chance against them-
Their Friend is always by their side.

I sacrifice myself to the one, O Bahu,
Who makes his Master the mainstay of his life.


Likhan sikhion likh na jaataa,
Kaaghaz keetaa zaaiaa hoo.

Katt qalam noon maar na haanen,
Kaatib naam dharaaiaa hoo.

Sabh islaah eh hosee khotee,
Jaan kaatib hath aaiaa hoo.

Sahee islaah tinhaan dee,
jinhaan Alif te meem pakaaiaa hoo.

You learned to write in a beautiful hand,
But what to write you didn’t learn-
The whole exercise was a waste of paper.

You call yourself a calligrapher
When you can’t even shape a writing pen!

When your script is examined by the real Scribe
All your efforts will prove to have been worthless.

Only when you repeatedly write Ali and Meem*
On the tablet of your heart, will you pass his test.
Alif stands for Allah; meem (M) stands for Murshid (Master)


Lok qabar daa karsan chaaraa,
Laihad banaawan deraa hoo.

Chutkee bhar mittee dee paasan,
Karsan dher ucheraa hoo.

De darood gharaan noon vanjan,
Kookan sheraa sheraa hoo.

Wich dargaah na amlaan baajhon,
Baahoo hog naberha hoo.

Eventually your grave will be dug
And your body slid into the lahad.*

Your loved ones will throw handfuls of dust
And raise a mound of earth over you.

They will say the death-prayer for you soul’s benefit,
They go home wailing and weeping at your sad demise.

But even after death there is no relief from pain
Other than through good deeds done while living-
Which alone count in the court of the Lord, O Bahu.
(A lahad is a side-extension at the bottom of a grave that provides room for the dead body. The grave is filled up with earth but the lahad remains hollow, providing ‘breathing space’ for the body)


Lohaa hoven piaa kuteeven,
Taan talwaar sadeeven hoo.

Kanghee caangoon piaa chireeven,
Zulf mahboob bhareeven hoo.

Mehndee vaangoon piaa ghuteeven,
Hath mahboob rangeeven hoo.

Vaang kapaah piaa pinjeeven,
Taan dastaar sadeeven hoo.

Aashiq saadiq hoven Baahoo,
Taan ras prem daa peeven hoo.

Like a piece of iron that is to be forged into a fine sword,
You must bear the Blacksmith’s unrelenting hammer blows,

Like a comb you must be finely sawn
Before you can caress the Beloved’s locks.

Like henna leaves you must be ground into powder
Before you can adorn the Beloved’s palms.*

Like cotton you must endure being carded
Before you are woven into a turban for his head.

You will only taste the nectar of divine love
When you become a true lover of God, O Bahu.
(In india, women use a paste of powdered henna leaves to decorate the palms of their hands, sometimes even the soles of their feet, at their weddings and on various other festive occasions)


Maal te jaan sab kharch karaahan,
Karee-e khreed faqeeree hoo.

Faqr kanoon Rabb haasil hove,
Kion keeje dilgeeree hoo.

Duneeaa kaaran deen vanjaavan,
Koorhee sheikhee peeree hoo.

Tark duneeaa theen Qaadir keetee,
Shaah Meeraan dee meeree hoo.

Sell everything you have-spare not your life,
And purchase the wealth of devotion to God.

Why carry the burdens of life on your soul
When, through devotion, you can merge in the Lord?

False prophets sell their souls to the world
And mislead seekers with a pretence of spiritual guidance.

Sheikh Qadir Jilani truly renounced the world;
He was indeed a king among mystics.


Mazhabaan de darwaaze uchche,
Raah Rabbaanaa moree hoo.

Pandit te mulvaane kolon,
Chhup chhup langhee-e choree hoo.

Addeeaan maaran, karn bakherhe,
Dardmandaan de khoree hoo.

Baahoo chal uthaaeen wasee-e,
Daahvaa na jith horee hoo.

Lofty are the portals of religion;
Hard to find is the narrow path that leads to God.

Walk along it unnoticed,
Stealing past the priests.

They protest, they obstruct,
They persecute people who really love God.

Let us go and live somewhere, Bahu,
Where no one but God holds supremacy.


Murshid oh saherhee-e jehrhaa,
Do jagg khushee wakhaave hoo.

Paihale gham turke daa mete,
Vat Rabb daa raah sujhaave hoo.

Kallar waalee kandhee non chaa,
Chaandee khaas banaave hoo.

Jis murshid ith kujh na keetaa,
Koorhe laare laave hoo.

You should only choose someone as your Master
Who bestows the blessings of both worlds on you.

First he will drive the wolf from your door,
Then reveal to you the path to God.

He will transform the barren ground of your heart
Into fertile soil, so the seed of God’s Name can grow.

If a Master has not accomplished this for you
In this very life, You can be sure he is feeding you false promises.


Murshid baajhon faqar kamaave,
Wich kufar de budde hoo.

Sheikh mushaaikh ho baihnde hujre,
Ghaus-qutab ban udde hoo.

Raat andhaaree mushkil paindaa,
Sai sai aavan thudde hoo.

Tasbeehaan napp baihan maseetee,
Jion moosh bahe varh khudde hoo.

If someone practises devotion without a Master,
He will drown himself in the mire of atheism.

He will drown himself up as a sheikh in a mosque
Or acquire other religious titles to boost his ego.

Little does the poor fellow realize That the night is dark,
the path steep, And the journey is plagued with untold pitfalls.

With a rosary in hand he may sit in his cell
Like a mouse, sticking his head out of his hole.


Murshid makkaa, taalib haajee,
Kaabaa ishq banaaiaa hoo.

Wich huzoor sadaa har wele,
Karee-e hajj savaaiaa hoo.

Hikk dam maithon judaa na hove,
Dil milne te aaiaa hoo.

Murshid ain hayaatee Baahoo,
Loon loon wich samaaiaa hoo.

The Master is the Mecca, his love the shrine of Ka’ba;
The disciple is a pilgrim set out on the holy voyage.

As for me, my pilgrimage is always complete-
For I am constantly in the presence of my Master.

He doesn’t part company with me even for a moment,
As my heart always yearns to see him.

My Master is to me my very life, O Bahu;
He has permeated every pore of my being.


Murshid hai shaahbaaz Ilaahee,
Raliaa sang habeebaan hoo.

Taqdeer Ilaahee chhikkeeaan doraan,
Milsee naal naseebaan hoo.

Kohrhiaan de dukh door karendaa,
Kare shafaa mareezaan hoo.

Har ik marz daa daaroo toon hain,
Ghatt na vass tabeebaan hoo.

My Master is a bird of paradise;
He only flies with his own kind.

Through great good fortunes you will have his vision-
If the Lord pulls the strings of destiny in your favor.

He cleanses the lepers of their leprosy;
He removes the deformities of the spiritually crippled.

You hold the panacea for all ills, my Master!
Pray, do not leave Bahu to the care of physicians.


Murshid mainoon hajj makke daa,
Raihmat daa darwaazaa hoo.

Karaan tawaaf davaale qible,
Hajj hove nit taazaa hoo.

Kun faikoon jadokaa suniaa,
Dittha oh darwaazaa hoo.

Murshid sadaa hayaatee waalaa,
Oho Khizr te Khwaajaa hoo.

A visit to my Master is, for me,
Like a devout Muslim’s pilgrimage to Mecca.
My master is indeed the gateway to God’s mercy.

Like a pilgrim circling the shrine of Ka’ba,
My life revolves around my Master-
Thus is my pilgrimage ever renewed;
This is my love ever rejuvenated.

Ever since the Lord ordained the Creation,
Ever since I last saw that gateway to his court,

My Master has lived forever, Bahu-
As the Khizr who has conquered death,
As the Creator who lives in human form.


Murshid vaang suniaare hove,
Ghat kuthaalee gaale hoo.

Paa kuthaalee baahar kaddhe,
Bunde gharhe yaa vaale hoo.

Kanneen khoobaan tadon suhaavan,
Jad khatte paa ujaale hoo.

Naam faqeer tise daa,
jehrhaa Dam dam dost sambhaale hoo.

Just as a goldsmith melts gold And purifies it in his crucible,
The Master melts and purifies the disciple’s soul.

To mould it into beautiful ornaments-
Be they studs or earrings.

Only after they have been sculpted and polished
Are they considered fit to adorn the Beloved’s ears.

Only the one who enshrines the Friend in his heart,
And remembers him with every breath Deserves the name ‘faqir’, O Bahu.


Murshid wasse sai kohaan te,
Mainoon disse nerhe hoo.

Keeh hoiaa butt ohle hoiaa,
Wasse oh wich mere hoo.

Alif dee zaat sahee jis keetee,
Rakkhe qadam agere hoo.

Nahun aqrab labh leeose,
Jhagrhe kul naberhe hoo.

A thousand miles away is my Master’s abode,
But I always see him nearby.

It’s of little consequence if he’s physically out of sight;
My heart is his real home.

Whoever realizes the oneness of God
Will always progress on his spiritual journey-

He finds the Lord nearby, through the Royal Vain;
He puts an end to the problems of life forever.


Murshid haadee sabaq parhhaaiaa,
Parhhion bina parhheeve hoo.

Unglaan wich kannaan de ditteeaan,
Sunion bina suneeve hoo.

Nain nainaan wal tur tur takde,
Dithion binaa diseeve hoo.

Har khaane wich jaanee Baahoo,
Kin sir oh rakheeve hoo.

My Master has taught me a lesson:
It repeats itself-without me repeating it.

When I plug my ears with my fingers,
Without learning, I hear its melodies.

My eyes are longing for a glimpse of him:
Without seeing, I see his radiant face.

In every heart abides the Beloved, O Bahu,
In countless forms he reveals himself to me.


Mootoo waalee maut na milsi,
Jain wich maut hayaatee hoo.

Maut wisaal theeose hik jad,
Ism parhheeve zaatee hoo.

Aain de andar aain theeose,
Door hove qurbaatee hoo.

Hoo daa zikr sarhendaa Baahoo,
Deehaan sukh na raatee hoo.

If you die by practising God’s real Name,
Death will become synonymous with merging in him.

There is no other way you can die the death
That promises dying while living.

When the soul merges in the Lord,
Nearness changes into oneness with him.

I am restless, O Bahu, in my longing to merge in Hu!
Day and night my heart burns in his remembrance.


Main shaahbaz karaan parvaazaan,
Wich aflaak karam de hoo.

Zabaan taan meree kun braabar,
Morhaan kam qalam de hoo.

Aflaatoon, Arastoo varge,
Main agge kis kam de hoo.

Haatim varge lakh karorhaan Dar,
Baahoo de mangde hoo.

I am a bird of paradise that flies high
In the heavens of God’s blessing.

In my word is hidden the Command of God;
In my will lies the power to reverse destiny.

Trivial before me is the wisdom of Plato and Aristotle;

Millions like Hatim, unmatched in their generosity,*
Are but beggars at Bahu’s door.
(Hatim Tai: a legendary philanthropist of Yemen)


Main kojhee meraa dilbar sohnaa,
Kion kar usnoon bhaanwaan hoo.

Wehrhe saade varhdaa naaheen,
Lakkh vaseele paavaan hoo.

Na sohnee na daulat palle,
Kion kar yaar manaavaan hoo.

Dukh hamesh eh raihsee Baahoo,
Rondee hee mar jaavaan hoo.

Impeccable is my Beloved. Awkward and ungainly am I-
How can I ever win his heart?

Despite the countless pleas I make to him,
He does not enter the courtyard of my heart.

I have neither beauty nor wealth-
How am I to please my Beloved, O friend!

Am I destined to live with this torment, Bahu?
Or perhaps I will die of crying in pain!

English translation:

Filed under: Sufism, , , , , , , , , , ,

Kalam Hazrat Sultan Bahu – 8/10


Ghaus qutb han ure urere,
Aashiq jaan agere hoo.

Jehrhee manzil aashiq pahunchan,
Ghaus na paavan phere hoo.

Aashiq wich visaal de raihnde,
Laamakaanee dere hoo.

Main qurbaan tinhaan ton,
jinhaan Zaato zaat basere hoo.

The ghaus and qutb trail behind;
The goal of lovers is far ahead.

The leaders of religion can never reach the stage
To which the lovers of God have easy access.

Lovers are always united with the Beloved;
They abide in realms beyond time and space,

I shall sacrifice myself to anyone, O Bahu,
Whose spirit rests in its own Essence.


Fajreen wele uth savele,
Aan karan mazdooree hoo.

Kaanvaan illaan hiksee gallaan,
Treejee ralee chandooree hoo.

Maaran cheekhaan karan mushaqqat,
Put put kadh angooree hoo.

Saaree umar pitendiaan guzree,
Kadee na paeeaa pooree hoo.

They rise early; they get to their work fast:

Like crows and vultures they create a racket-
Reading their sermons like the mimicking chandoor.*

They spend their lives like this-
Talking gibberish, shooting prayers into the air

And distorting the message of the scriptures-
Because their hearts are never moved by God’s love.
(Chandoor or chandol is a mimicking bird. It imitates sounds, including spoken words – obviously without knowing their meaning, in much the same manner as priests recite and quote the words of Saints without realizing their underlying message)


Qalb na hilliaa taan keeh hoiaa,
Hoiaa zikr zabaanee hoo.

Qalbee, roohee, makhfee, sirree,
Sabhe raah hairaanee hoo.

Shaah rag ton nazdeek ho raihndaa,
Yaar na miliaa jaanee hoo.

Naam faqeer tinhaan da,
jehrhe Wasde laamakaanee hoo.

If only done with your tongue and not your heart,
The repetition of God’s Name is in vain.

Using the various kings of zikr*-with the heart, the soul,
And other secret methods-only leads to confusion.

These methods give no clue of the Beloved
Who is nearby and only to be found through the Royal Vein.

Only the one whose spirit abides in realms beyond space
Deserves to be called faqir, O Bahu.
(At the highest level, Sufi mystics used the term zikr for the inner remembrance or simran. The term was also used for many kinds of repetition practices pertaining to the lower centers of the body and lower spiritual regions)


Kaamil murshid aisaa howe,
Jo dhobee vaangoon chhatte hoo.

Naal nigaah de paak kare,
Na sajjee saaban ghatte hoo.

Maile noon kar dendaa chittaa,
Zarraa mail na rakkhe hoo.

Aisaa murshid hove,
jehrhaa Loon loon de wich vasse hoo.

A perfect Master scrubs his disciples
As a washer-man rubs and beats dirt out of clothes.

But unlike the washerman who needs soap,
The Master purifies with his glance,

Removing all traces of dirt from the disciple’s soul.

Let the one who can permeate every pore of my being Be my Master, O Bahu!


Kalme dee kal tad piose,
Jad kal kalme vanj kholee hoo.

Kalmaa aashik parhhde,
jithe Noor nabee dee holee hoo.

Chaudaan tabq kalme de andar,
Keeh jaane khalqat bholee hoo.

Kalmaa saanoon peer parhhaaiaa,
Jind ose ton gholee hoo.

You will only know the marvel of Kalma
When it has opened the window of your heart.

Lovers practise Kalma within their hearts,
Lit by the Master’s radiance.

All fourteen realms are within the Kalma-
How can the uninitiated comprehend this secret?

As for me, my Master initiated me into the Kalma.
Since then I have dedicated my soul only to him.


Kalme dee kal tadaan paee,
Jad murshid kalmaa dassiaa hoo.

Saaree umar kufr wich jaalee,
Bin murshid de dassiaan hoo.

Shah Alee Sher-Allaah waangan,
Vaddh kufr noon suttiaa hoo.

Dil saafee taan hove je kar,
Kalmaa loon loon rasiaa hoo.

Only when my Master initiated me into the Kalma
Did I truly understand its meaning.

Only then did it dawn on me.
That I had wasted my earlier life as a non-believer.

But now, in the manner of Hazrat Ali, the lion of God,
Kalma has slain the demon of my non-belief.

Only when the Kalma has saturated every pore of your being
Will your heart be purified, O Bahu.


Kalme lakkh karorhan taare,
Walee keete sai raaheen hoo.

Kalme naal bujhaae dozakh,
Jith agg bale azgaaheen hoo.

Kalme naal bahishteen jaanaa,
Jith niaamat sanjh subaaheen hoo.

Kalme jehee na niaamat Baahoo,
Andar doheen saraaeen hoo.

The Kalma has ferried millions across the ocean.
In countless ways has it transformed Ordinary mortals into Saints.

Through Kalma is pacified the raging fire of hell;

Through Kalma is attained heaven,
The realm of everlasting bliss.

There is no treasure like Kalma, O Bahu,
In this world and the next.


Kalme naal main nhaatee dhotee,
Kalme naal viaahee hoo.

Kalmaa meraa parhe janaazaa,
Kalme gor suhaaee hoo.

Kalme naal bahishteen jaanaa,
Kalmaa kare safaaee hoo.

Murhan muhaal tinhaan noo jinhaan,
Saahib aap bulaaee hoo.

In the nectar of Kalma I bathed and purified myself;
To the Kalma I was joined in marriage.

It was Kalma that, in the end, performed my last rites.
It was Kalma that adorned my grave.

With the Kalma I will go to heaven;
Through the Kalma I will be cleansed of my sins.

Those who are called by the Lord himself
Find it hard to turn their backs on Kalma.


Kund zulmaat andher ghubaaraan,
Raah nen khauf khatar de hoo.

Aab hayaat munawwar chashme,
Saaye zulf ambar de hoo.

Mukh mahboob daa khaanaa kaabaa,
Aashiq sajdaa karde hoo.

Misal Sikandar dhoondan aashiq,
Palak aaraam na karde hoo.

Khizr naseeb jinhaan de Baahoo,
Ghutt othe jaa bharde hoo.

Utter dark and fearsome is the path,
Leading to the shining pool of the water of life-

Like the Beloved’s radiant face,
Hidden under his locks, dark and fragrant.

The Master’s face is the holy Ka’ba,
To which lovers prostrate themselves in obeisance.

As Alexander sought the water of life in the world,
So lovers relentlessly search for this nectar within.

But only fortunate souls
Blessed with a Master’s guidance Drink from that pool of nectar.


Kun faikoon jadon farmaaiaa,
Asaan vi kole haase hoo.

Hikke zaat sifaat Rabbe dee,
Hikke jag dhundiaase hoo.

Hikke laamakaan asaadaa,
Hikke butt wich phaase hoo.

Nafs shaitaan paleetee keetee,
Asal paleet taan naase hoo.

When God ordained the Creation,
we were with him;

We possessed his qualities, we were of his essence.
Separated, now we wander around searching for him.

Once we lived in the realm of pure spirit;
Trapped in physical bodies we now cry in pain.

We were unsullied in our native state-
It was our satanic ego that defiled us all, O Bahu.


Kook dilaa mat Rabb sune chaa,
Dardmandaan diaan aaheen hoo.

Seenaa meraa dardeen bhariaa,
Andar bharhkan bhaaheen hoo.

Telaan baajh na balan masaalaan,
Dardaan baajh na aaheen hoo.

Aatish naal yaraane laa ke,
Bhambat sarhan keeh naaheen hoo.

Cry, my heart – perhaps the Lord wil hear
The cries of a lover in torment!

My heart burns, filled with grief
And with the pain of separation.

No more can a heart sigh without grief
Than a torch burn without oil.

If, like a moth, you make friends with fire,
Like a moth, O Bahu, you must perish in its flames.


Keeh hoiaa butt door giaa,
Dil hargiz door na theeve hoo.

Sai kohaan te wasdaa murshid,
Wich huzoor diseeve hoo.

Jainde andar ishq dee rattee,
Bin sharaabon kheeve hoo.

Naam faqeer tinhaan daa Baahoo,
Qabr jinhaan dee jeeve hoo.

It matters little if I am physically a long way off-
My Master is never far from my heart.

He may have gone a thousand miles away to live-
I always find him present in my heart.

Those who have even an iota of love in their hearts
Remain intoxicated with the wine of that love- They need no other wine.

Only they may be called faqirs, O Bahu,
Whose very graves breathe Life.

English translation:

Filed under: Sufism, , , , , , , , , , ,

Sufi Poetry

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