The arrows of separation pierce, Yet on the horse of union I ride. You scatter the seeds of fruits From place to place for future growth. And weeping like a candle ablaze. And most of them pink, red or blue. None saw the buds waking from sleep Yet all wondered at their smile.
When each spot looked like a cup, Bnmful of dewy luscious wine. It seemed the rainbows had fallen At places on the emerald ground, Covered with grass of fresh green leaves. All glistening with the pearls of deWs. The rust of winter- fog and mist Was cleared by a soothing shower; And borne on the gentle soft breeze A fragrance filled the whole desert.
So that she might becalm her grief And soothe her heart agonised. Nor laughter, nor chorus of friends. Absorbed m singing to herself Her saddening and pensive song. The blooming flowers and their scent 78 Deepened more her intense longing. Separation -pang was too heightened Thousand- fold as was her agony, By a ghazai of Majnun sung Aloud by someone passing by.
While she was sadly roaming about, A youth saw her from a distance; Awe-struck and dumb- founded he Saw Beauty gracing her grand throne. It seemed the curtain of mystery Was raised and a new world was seen. Which was either a miracle maddening, Or a vision seen in high dream. Beauty is nothing but a ray divine Flashing on the cosmic mind. Its light caught m natural forms Conquers all the receptive minds. And fastens them for ever in chains, Invisible and of magical kind. The mighty prince of Bedouin, Nawfal Renowned for money and might.
Ever victonous in battles, And matchless in courage and strength, Out ori hunt and racing in chase Was after a flying antelope. The game of pleasure brought him near The cave where Majnun lived alone. Nawfal was taken aback to see A corpse-like creature lying prostrate. Thread- bare, dejected and forlorn.
Beside his animal companions; A grief- stricken man consumed Himself like a candle burning, Yet his frequent sobbings betrayed A sign of his being alive. Admirers of poetry and love Come to pay him their reverence; They offer food and drink to him And hear him sing his own songs. He eats a little and only when The name of Layla is uttered. It seems he thinks and acts for her, And breathes merely for her sake. He thought of doing something for Winning his sweet beloved for him Asking fox ilastarkhan to be laid With dainty, dishes and soft drinks, Himself he insistently 'urged The recluse to take to his fill Majnun sat like a log, head -bent Absorbed in contemplation deep, He took neither a morsel nor A sip of the delicious drinks.
He revealed the secret of his soul: And also an anguish unique. As worship needs reliance on form. I shall not rest nor shall enjoy Till I marry your dream to you. Never doubting my strength nor words, Do bring an early change in you. None would like his daughter wed A lost lunatic like you Eat and drink freely to your fill And throw away your tattered clothes; Do dress yourself in fancy robes That I have presented to you. Impatience like a leaf-hopper Was eating its green leaves tender.
Have you forgotten your promise, Or were your words sonorous sounds Without substance and meaningless? Like swarming locusts his army Moved with banners and kettle-drums, Darkening the comers of sky With a blinding storm of dust. If not be ready for a war, To let spears and swords decide The fate of souls in ardent love.
Nor pride yourself on gold and gems, 84 Nor your weapons and army large. Perhaps you Imow that all is dust, To dust they are bound to go. Still if you want to capture love By show of force or, fighting war, Know that we shall not lag behind, Nor shall you escape nemesis. CANTO in When the surface of sea beneath The horizon was blood -red hued, And the sun rose lik a big patch Of blood fresh -oozed from the wounds Of the demon of darkness killed By thesword-like rays of the sun.
And slogans rent the void of sky. With the final siren blown The two armies began to fight. Though fewer in number yet the brave Defenders did not lose their heart. It seemed oblation was offered To mighty god of war in wrath. But Majnun with a flag in hand Was seen in a. He prayed for his enemy's victoiy. And sometimes in obliviousne.
And cursed for his disloyalty.. Yet a keener battle went on Until sun touched the western rim;. Nawfal thought some nghtepus prayer! Had stood in his way of triumph;. Let the wounds get proper healing And the dead a place in their graves. But the gem of grace is already Engaged to a virtuous young man. By unjust deeds I shall not put My ipyal lineage to ignominy. I shall leave Majnun to his fate ,. And he began to curse his fnend. Majnun to the hunter' spoke thus. Who has to feed many a mouth With the price fetched by the catch.
The deer cast a grateful glance And ran in search of his beloved. On foot the saddened'lover trod The lonely path of scorching sand. Until the night raised a tent Of dense dartoess for all to rest. Our life and relax vexed neiyes,. Moved to pity profound by slave's Predicament Majnun questioned: Begging from door to door we go Of Arabian villages and towns. And what we earn by our show We ourselves equally divide.
The old dame weighed this offer well. And agreeing to his tempting plan. She freed the former slave from chains And took Majnun as her new slave. Who was mad enough to be chained And sad enough to play this role. Sometimes he feigned also to be blind And earned the sympathy of all; ' Sometimes the role of a debtor Touched deeply the heart of all. A minute seemed a millennium And joy changed in ecstatic calm.
Cursed by his benefactor raged. Poor Majnun resumed his song. The blossoms vie with each other To fall over you or in your path. Your form is like the rarest gem Resplendent in a darkened room; Or like a swan of whitest wings Fast- floating on a silent lake. Out you shine as moon and within I am filled with your own light. Often in dreaming hours I feel That you and I are only one. In waking hours you descend as An angel from heavens above.
Although I write to soothe my pang, My ghazals echo your sweet songs. Making a choice of this or that , And the whole remaining unknown, Lx ve that lies beyond bounds Between you and me is caught. Sunk down deep then floating above. In reverence she bade a salam And with a shnek she ran inside. None came out to give them alms. In his deserted cave of bliss And with all his animal friends. The buds opened as dreamy eyes.
Wakened from their amorous dreams; The laughing leaves of trees concealed The nymphs and their paramours The mixed scent of spring blossoms Inflamed the desire of Ibm Salam.
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He could not bear the heavy load Of impatience on his frail heart. A love of beauty and desire To own it needs a quick response For change of dreams in wedlock soon: He asked for a caravan to start With loads of jewels and ornaments, Silken clothes and precious perfumes. Embroidered suits and gold -brocades.
Ijiv; 3n a jo'. Layla enraged revealed to him In clear wprds Her pious" plan;. And passion for possession must Die for love to be truthful. Desire must be received with joy By the desired to breed response Unresponded love is idle. Unable to bear any fruit, Like a seed in burning sand Without the power even to grow.
I shall love you as I love all Neighbours and serve you to my best.
‘Chronicles of Majnun Layla & Selected Poems’: A Different Kind of Crazy
My ecstasy and agony of love Have already got their own centre. The outer heat is shared by all- The living and non-living things. Who lying under a thorn -bush green Looked at flowers in arms of thorns With burning eyes and saddened heart. At noon when the scorching sun Had blurred the vision of all things A dust- cloud had a curtain dropped O'er things glimmering at a distance; But soon he deciphered a rider Fast racing towards his owti cave. Your bird of love has left the branch On which it used to sit and sing, And flown to another shady tree.
Fickle and faithless, women are. All is sweet in love, its bitterness too is sweet. How can the events of the outer world Move a mind resigned in full. When my inner world is completely swaye By a dominant image single? Layla is yours in body and soul And will ever remain only yours. Though sad she is free as ever. Flying on the wings of pure love. The nupUal bed she has not shared With her sad languishing husband. Who is allowed to fly around The flower whose musk is forbidden. View of beauty from a distance Is the only reward of marriage. A sudden wave of ecstasy Overpowered his soul turbulent.
And frenzied he began to dance, A dance of obhvious ecstasy. The silent repression ate away His inner joy and vitality, And he moved as a sheer ghost Of his cypress-like former self. Once a friend of his infancy Held him lovingly by his arms, ' And asked the cause of his despair. In intensity of hopeless love. He spoke to his benign fnend: Whenever I look at her splendid cheeks That bloom in perfect harmony of shades With her rosy lips half- parted, Looking like a red ripe pomegranate opened in part, The teeth glistening as its white seeds.
An urge intense and deep to taste the nectarean-sweet Smothers all my self-restraint. Whenever I look at her tearful eyes sad That look like embiyo-nightmgales, Peeping through their fresh -broken shells And tiying to fly on their ungrown wings. L'Ul in a; 5 bt'-. And planted him as a flowering tree. His present state was swept away In inundating floods of tears And the sweet memories of past.
The happy child and sad adult, The two Majnuns were now as one. When the flow of emoUons deep And the flood of tears ceased, A calm after storm prevailed. None could move an inch nor speak, Both stood like leafless trees. The lull too heavy to be borne Pressed hard upon their saddened heart. The aim of life is action great And not a craze for idle thoughts. He must regain his glory lost Through selfless acts and love of all. True action is the call of life — The duty its prime- mover.
Come along to your loving home And live a life duty -bound. Rather than be a man love-lost. And his own state of Being: The fair form of flesh and bone has begun to dwindle now Because of the lasting separation and is now transformed In an ethereal form — a floating vision of beatitude. Love illumines the truth we know in hints and guesses rare, And saves me from the mortifying whirlpool of despair. The multiple selves reflected in the mirror are lost In an all-absorbing pnityiof iijfe.. The west wind sang the song of death. North -wind mourned the loss of light; Shadows broadened on misty hills.
Driven from north the birds clustered In the warmer southern valleys; The amorous nightingale sad Was seeking for a denser shade Than the branch of scanty leaves. The owl cold in all feathers Hooted nightlong m awful shneks. Sad Ibn-Salam, in jaws of death. Dreamt of the unforgettable face, Ever so close but never kissed. For which he craved day and night. Maddening dream of a fair face, Denied to him in reality, Became his passion delirious Which ate into his vitals weak. At last his day of doom arrived With a storm that shook all the trees And blew off some houses and camps.
The ailing heart of Salam broke, The lover of beauty collapsed, So sudden that he could not see The face he dreamt of Iife-long. The news spread like wild fire, And people thronged in mourning garbs. The wails and cries awoke Layla From her dreams of dear Majnun. Rising in gloom she guessed all right The death of her love-lorn husband.
Deeply moved by pity profound, She thought of her duties as wife. In black robes she dressed herself. As must she mourn the death of one Whom she neither loathed nor loved.
Full text of "Layla And Majnun And Other Poems"
Faltering she went near the dead And laid a wreath with tears wet; She touched him once the man was dead, Showing she was a broken heart. Strange was their marital life. Strange indeed the mourning wife. Dishevelled hair and streaming eyes Concealed the feeling true of heart. Which wept for one alive still, Though her tears were for one dead. A flood of tears flowed from her eyes But none could guess for whom she wept. She tore her face with sharpened nails And rent her garment in thin shreds; While ash she cast upon her head Her sighs knocked the gates of sky. Play of mourning and truth of love Met in her in such a wise That true was false and false was true.
Who charmed by its exterior glow Failed to perceive the inner core Which could never be pierced through. Mournings and prayers continued Until all rites were performed, And one who gave his life to love With Fatiha was laid to rest. Sometimes he sang his own ghnz,ils, Sometimes he lidl. Put most often he. Tlie play of tiger and the fawn Together tea. They growled and roared at stranger's view: At master's feet they. For the fulfilment of his love. Oblivious of their animosity. He fondly kissed her long eyes That reminded him of Layla Once Majnun strolled beyond the hills And came across a group of men Who thronged around him and handed A paper which contained his name Along with that of sweet Layla.
This act astonished the onlookers Who wished to test his state of being. What made you, sir, behave like this And separate Majnun from Layla With whom you long to be united? Love is not a mere joining together Of bodies and minds — of image and name, It is a total absorption of a being into another soul.
When Layla is joined with Majnun only Majnun remains. My act is not a gesture of annoyance, disgust or disregard. And when I begin to explore Majnun I find Layla quite lost in him. When soul becomes hungry of true love, It begins to measure Its own depth — immeasurable. Shadows begin to dance their apocalyptic dance. The dew drops shone like tears Fallen from a sky weeping On premature death of the day. Majnun lay lost in thoughts of love Beside a rock lacing his cave.
Flanked well by his animal friends. He saw a cloud of dust rising From which a rider soon emerged Who paced fast towards his cave When closer was the nder seen The wolf frowned and tiger roared. But Majnun calmed them with a smile The rider alighted from his horse. When your father is long since dead. What an ungrateful son you are. That he missed you at his death- bed. The flood of tears he couldn't control He heaved a long and groaning sigh And fell like a wjthered tree Sobbing though, he remained lifeless. Minutes passed and hours began. Before he rose with swollen eyes He hit his head upon a stone, And sat to mourn in loud words: But I failed to repay its wordly claims.
I never thought that the cruel death Would clutch you in its claws so soon. And I would be left alone in this world — unheeding and dark. I failed to become what you cherished for me. Nor could I do any service to you in your old age. My life has truly been a colossal waste — a desert veritable In which no fruit-tree grew nor a flower bloomed; In its sandy soil only thorny bushes of sorrow grew. Along with varied cactuses of gnef that prospered. And over which the clouds of hope gathered but never rained.
O Father mine, I could not return your love so warm and soft, Nor could I pay my homage last to you. Rather quite against your wishes I cut The branches of your family-tree. Myself standing as a lonely trunk leafless. You are the source from which my nver of life flows. But I spurned your words and paid no heed to what you said, My ears being stuffed with all-through echoing love.
The light that could guide me still is now extinguished. And bless from heaven your misguided son To see in heaven the face of love when the time comes.
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Used to send new clothes and food As gifts to his estranged nephew; But he also had failed to bring Majnun back to his own kinsfolk. His sister wished it ever since Her husband had his last breathed. After long days and nights dark Of joumeiy through the desert vast. Their caravan came near the hill In whose cave mad Majnun lived. And the welfare of his kinsfolk. Salim was taken by surprise To see Majnun so sane and good. And asked humbly how to be free The saint smiled and answered hiib: Call no man happy, wise and free If he IS victim of objects three — Anger, greed and lust for flesh.
The saint in tranquil tone replied: Of the self-realized saint Before he took his leave of him Hearing the talc Majnun was pleased And said it was true food for him. He asked how his mother was. Please wait and I shall bring her soon; You will see her within an hour. When she drew close he ran to hold His mother in his greeting arms, As palsied leaf she trembled fast At every breath she did inhale; She moaned like a wingless bird, Imprisoned in the cage of life In which there gleamed no ray of hope.
Mother looked at her gazing son. Each measuring the other's misery. And fondled with his matted hair. Clasping him to her beating heart. A fire blazed within their hearts While tears drenched all their clothes. After the tide ebbed lower, She cleaned his face and gave him food Which Majnun could not dare refuse. She took her child in her own lap. And then began to tell her woe: Now death has raised its claws at me A battered vessel in rough sea, A dry leaf at the will of wind.
No one is left to care for me. No one is left to bury me. Worship your idol in your shrine; Home is no hurdle in your path. But if helplessness is pardonable I plead for the same. For the life I chose demands alienation perfect and pure.
Chronicles of Majnun Layla and Selected Poems
And thrives on loneliness in the outer world And also an inner emptiness So that the soul is filled with love and its glorious image. Fated it was for me to live m mountain glens, bowers and glades. To feed the ego again will mean the death of my new-born self— A splitting of the life of an integrated soul. In fact, I know myself and yet I do not know what I am; How can a man like me live in the wicked world?
We move within this iron-cage and love its bars Like a tamed bird which forgetting the free sky and wide forest Makes the best of its imprisonment in songs and limited jumps. Until the key of Grace turns again to unlock its doors. The houses we build remain insecure against the furies of time, Nor can our homes we madly love endure its deadly blows. I grieve still for not being of any use to you, And for not being able to serve you in your last days.
Love has erected my mansion, mother, in eternity, And death has lost all courage to come near me. Mother dear, you know the world is full of men who dearly love Their kinsfolk at one moment and hate them at the other; But I am thankful to love that has opened the cage, Enabling me to love each and eveiy soul for ever. You see, each one is haunted by a mighty otherness, But escape from life has bound me more tightly to it With invisible chains of an unmixed love; I love each soul as I love my own.
In whose bright flash the imprisoning walls Of time and space have all collapsed; Would you like me be a slave of binding time. When I have entered the realm of timelessness? Love needs a sacrifice from both you and me, So that my love may triumph in its fullest glory. As she touched the dear threshold Of her empty house beloved.
Light gleamed through shadows green As if Nature smiled screened. From golden mom to dewy pight A warmer wind began to blow, The mixed odour of fragrant blooms Wafted a scent of paradise That touched the core of dormant hearts, Arousing them to call of love. Two years had passed since Ibn-Salam In frustration had breathed his last. As was the custom of the land; She was free to move out and meet A person now she wished to wed.
His poetic effusions and tears, Layla could not restrain herself. Agonised she sighed and collapsed. Her mother rushed with water fresh And sprinkled it over her face. The caravan passed through desert vast. And after days crossed Euphrates, When the hillock where Majnun lived Drew close, the caravan was stopped.
His nckety form then broke her heart. In nudity and absorption He looked like a mystic great. Amidst the growling and frowns Of his animal body guards, Zaid then appeared before Majnun Who calmed the tiger and the wolf. Then followed the steps of Layla Who stood now before Majnun, With legs trembling and pounding heart. Thrice she kissed the rocky ground And thrice she bowed before Majnun. It seemed a lightning had flashed sharp And was followed by an earthquake For Layla and sad Majnun both, Yet Majnun looked with eyes aloof And appeared quite indifferent. His winkless eyes and looks stramed Betrayed a nund oblivious and lost, As also a mystic indifference.
Wrinkled forehead revealed he was Searching for things found and lost. With the seer, the seen and seeing all merged into one. You are one of Ae Laylas that I ever see resplendent On every leaf, in every patch of cloud and in the empty air No doubt, you are Layla, my dearest and the most beauteous form — My noblest object of adoration and the highest goal of my life.
But Layla in my mind being larger than any visible form Has absorbed your figure bright in its brightness vast- Two forms merged into one now rest in my soul. The worth of this body of dust lies In constant adoration of your being. Even as the glory of our love lies in my total umon with you; Like sea to the moon and bee to the rose- Subject and object we are each to each.
Like fish out of water I cannot breathe A single breath without you. Like a moth I must touch the light Of your love and consume myself. People may deride my image of union in disumon found. But fault is not theirs, they cannot realize How flower is transformed into fragrance, as they cannot under- stand The paradox of longing deep and inner unity firm and sound — The anomaly of alBiction and assurance existing side by side. Like word and its meaning we are inseparable and one; Though the unity must be divided into two For the full and fancied play of love.
The two hearts always beat as one, yours and mine. Let it remain a tragedy for its pity and terrors unknown That It may lead to Catharsis pure for us and for everyone. Who reads or hears of our tale of true love in future unforeseen. And taste its glory through a total give and take. O lord of my life, once again I have seen the light of all my hopes. Now let me feed this light with the oil of my life the last breath.
My smile shall heal your bleeding wounds And my songs will inspire you to better songs, I shall feed your animal crew you have tamed through love, I shall clean your cave and wash your clothes and fetch Pure water, fresh and sweet, from the yonder spring. Though dust of your dust I shall clean the dust off your feet, And be happy in this kind of fulfilment of my love.
Which abate by diminishing returns to the point of abhorrence and disgust. Pleasure bom even of services rendered begin to dwindle soon. And at best they change in pangs of memory and desires unsoothed; My love, take care of the soul and let the rest take care of itself. Very soon the body becomes a barrier In the long and tedious path of love On which are strewn the thorns of sufferings and woes manifold.
Your rosy feet cannot tread these stony grounds, You, Jasmine -breasted cannot face the stormy gales, Nor will this strange company of wild beasts suit your tenderness, My whimsical moods of lostness will leave you lonely, A life of utter seclusion will bore you immensely. But my pensive melancholy will breed nothing but disillusion - Layla, your love is far higher than any contact or service selfless And what I adore in you is Beauty enshrined in reason pure.
Let us live in a contactless contact and a surrender serviceless. As services may also breed an ego of being a self. My Dearest dove, let our love like parallel lines run In the same direction seeking and rejoicing, In a hope to meet at eveiy point without meeting for ever.
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The gloom clouded her joys of life, And beauty also vanished soon. Body sickens when mind wanes And loses its self-confidence.
The red of cheeks turned yellow-green. The dark vanished from flinty eyes. The glamour of her golden hair Was changed into a dusty grey A statesque form of glowing flesh Did shrink to mere skin on bones. Gloomy present and future dark — A burden that now life was. Pressed her under its heavy weight. Her soul though willed yet could not leave The mansion where love was enthroned.
Who knew neither himself nor her. With words ennobling and counsel sweet. She tried to calm a fevered mind: Weeping for a love denied is like sowing in a barren land In which tears can never grow into flowers of hope. Either dnnk the wine of oblivion and forget your past, Living in the present or dreaming of a future bright. Or with some resolution fresh let your torment be resolved. The past preys freely upon the soul aggrieved.
Sweet memories like ghosts frighten the waking mind, And hopelessness like a poisonous serpent crawls in dreams; Scorpions venomed sting the trembling heart. But he in his self-denial recognizes not My offenngs and my faith, remaining reticent and indifierent. How can my love find its consummation in negation dark, When it seeks the light of love m the shrine of acceptance? How long can a soul afflicted wait with bitmg impatience For the dawn of unity to shine on the horizon of gloom? Each moment lightning flashed and frowned — Unusual for a desert land.
With tenfold lusture eyes glowed Animating her divine face. Indeed in state of ideal thought — In unified Being or tnumph of soul. Feeling is not divorced from tliought. Majnun lay lost in sweet transport Of desireless yet hungry love. Outward was blowing the stormy wind, A tremor shook his inner world; Disturbed he slept in his dark cave Surrounded by his animal friends.
When sleep is not peaceful and sound Dreams haunt the realm of human mind. Frightened by the image of death Majnim shrieked aloud in his dream. In thought of love and Layla sweet, Absorbed he fell again asleep. A vision as a rainbow bright Flashed on the horizon of his mind. Two cherubim on their wings carried A golden throne canopied with gems. With golden lusture emblazoned, Like a meteor through the sky. Inspired by the vision he saw, Majnun sang a song in his dream: You lived in time but umelessness garlanded you With flowers of love unique.
Whose fragrance paradisial intoxicated me into a sublime lunacy. Be sure I am hastening to reach you soon And m our meeting time will meet with timelessness. Remained standing face to face Both staring at each other. The words falling as lightning stroke Made Majnun fall at once in swoon.
Revived and trembling, Zayd he clasped And asked. Weep, weep my wounded heart alone For the mediator between you and love is dead. The author succeeds in reviving this classical work of Arabian love while liberating it from its puritanical dimension and tribal overtones. A powerful lyric poet, Haddad juxtaposes classical and modern symbols, and mixes the old with the new, the sensual with the sacred, and the common with the extraordinary.
Title Page, Copyright pp. Note on Translation pp. Chronicles of Majnun Layla pp. He Is No One pp. Not of Any Place pp. The Crystalline Sweetness of Flesh pp. The Wedding Night pp. Crown of Sacrifices pp. The Night Described pp. Acts of Raving pp. God Will Forgive pp. All the Weeping pp. Something Other than the Mount pp. Such passionate displays of love and devotion caused many to refer to the boy as Majnun, meaning madman. Such a marriage, the father reasoned, would only cause a scandal.
It would not be proper for his daughter to marry a person whom everybody called a madman. Instead, Layla was promised to another — an older man from a neighbouring village. Majnun was overcome with grief and abandoned his home and family and disappeared into the wilderness where he lived a miserable life of solitude among the wild animals.
It was in this wilderness that Majnun spent his days composing poems to his beloved. Layla was forced to marry this other man, although she did not love him because her heart still belonged to Majnun. But even though Layla did not love her husband, she was a loyal daughter and so remained a faithful wife.
The news of this marriage was devastating to Majnun who continued to live a life of solitude, refusing to return home to his mother and father in the city. They would leave food for him at the bottom of the garden in the hopes that one day he would come back to them out of the desert. But Majnun remained in the wilderness, writing his poetry in solitude, never speaking to a single soul. Majnun spent all of his time alone, surrounded only by the animals of the wilderness that would gather around him and protect him during the long desert nights.
He was often seen by travellers who would pass him on their way towards the city. The travellers said that Majnun spent his days reciting poetry to himself and writing in the sand with a long stick; they said that he truly was driven to madness by a broken heart.