Oh Khusrau, the river of love runs in strange directions. <br />One who jumps into it drowns, and one who drowns, gets across. <br /> <br />1 <br />The creaking of the chain of Majnun is the orchestra of the lovers, <br />To appreciate its music is quite beyond the ears of the wise. <br /> <br />2 <br />If I cannot see her, at least I can think of her, and so be happy; <br />To light the beggar's hut no candle is better than moonlight. <br /> <br />3 <br />My heart is a wanderer in love, may it ever remain so. <br />My life's been rendered miserable in love, may it grow more and more miserable. <br /> <br />4 <br />People think they are alive because they have soul in them, <br />But I am alive because I have love in myself, <br />And I'm a martyr due to the beloved's affliction, <br />(for, to a lover, nothing is dearer than <br />the affliction brought forth by the beloved) . <br /> <br />5 <br />My beloved speaks Turkish, and Turkish I do not know; <br />How I wish if her tongue would have been in my mouth. <br /> <br />6 <br />Old age and lovemaking do not go together; <br />But O Khusrau, you still remain a proof against this reasoning. <br /> <br />7 <br />If there is a paradise on earth, <br />It is this, it is this, it is this <br /> <br />8 <br />You look sleepless, in whose embrace did you pass the night; <br />Your intoxicated eye has still the signs of tipsiness. <br /> <br />9 <br />The dust of your doorstep is just the right thing to apply, <br />If Surmah (kohl powder) does not show its beauty in the eye! <br /> <br />10 <br />How can her eyes reflect any sympathy, with my night-long wakefulness? <br />For she herself knows of nothing, in the night, except sleeping. <br /> <br />11 <br />I have become you, and you me, I am the body, you soul; <br />So that no one can say hereafter, that you are someone, and me someone else.<br /><br />Amir Khusro<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/couplet-5/
