I am bewildered the (spiritual) station I visited last night<br />I was surrounded by wounded victims of love, moving here and there in distress.<br />The beloved was like a fairy, tall like a cypress and face of a flower<br />Mercilessly wounding the heart of lovers<br />God himself was emperor of ceremony of thos station<br />O’ Khusrow! and Prophet S.A.W. was illuminated just like a candle.<br /><br />نمی دانم چہ منزل بود شب جائے کہ من بودم<br />بہر سو رقص بسمل بود شب جائے کہ من بودم<br />I wonder what was the place where I was last night,<br />All around me were half-slaughtered victims of love,tossing about in agony.<br /><br />پر ی پیکر نگاری ، سرو قد ، لالہ رخساری<br />سراپا آفت دل بود شب جائے کہ من بودم<br />There was a nymph-like beloved with cypress-like form and tulip-like face<br />Ruthlessly playing havoc with the hearts of the lovers.<br /><br />رقیباں گوش بر آواز ، او در ناز, من ترساں<br />سخن گفتن، چہ مشکل بود شب جائے کہ من بودم<br />The enemies were ready to respond , He was attracting, I was dreading<br />It was too difficult to speak out there where I was last night.<br /><br />خدا خود میر مجلس بود اندر لامکاں خسرو<br />محمد شمع محفل بود شب جائے کہ من بودم<br />God himself was the master of ceremonies in that heavenly court,<br />Oh Khusrau, where (the face of) the Prophet too was shedding light like a candle.<br /><br />امیر خسرو<br />Amir Khusro<br /><br /><br />
