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I Weep With the Clouds

My review for the latest “Niyaz” album has been long overdue, but I promise I will write it very soon. From the album, I discovered an amazing poet who lived in the Indian Subcontinent during the 13th century: Amir Khusrau. He wrote primarily in Persian (Farsi), but also in Urdu. Azam Ali sings two of his Persian poems on the latest “Niyaz” album, “Nine Heavens.” Although this is not one of them, I had to share it because as soon as I read it, I reflected on my own separation from a dear friend of mine. Yesterday, I broke into tears because I played an old song that was special to both of us. Sometimes I’m still shocked that we’re separated. After the shock, I get the memories, and after the memories, I feel sad and miserable. I just wonder if things will ever be as beautiful as it was before. I suppose the answer is in having a positive and open heart, and to have faith in the True Friend — The One who will never turn away from us. I know deep down I have faith things will get better, Insha’Allah.

Abr mi barad-o man shovm-e az yar-e-judaa
Choon kunam dil becheneen roz zedildar judaa
Abr baraan wa man-o yar satadah ba-widaa’
Man judaa girya kunaan, abr judaa, yaar judaa…

(Farsi)

The cloud weeps, and I become separated from my friend
How can I separate my heart from my heart’s friend on such a day
The cloud weeping — and I and the friend standing, bidding farewell
I weeping separately, the clouds separately, the friend separately…

~ Amir Khusrau, 13th Century Indian Sufi

Abstraction

Outside, there is the sun
Green leaves grow, flowers bloom
Warm air, pleasant breeze
Yet for me, I am in the shade of gloom

A broken vow
And the clouds are weeping
I am their rainfall
Infertile soil, no garden to spring

What key is there to find
When they have all sunk in the ocean
And swallowed by the abyss of non-existence
Oh, how I have dreamt this sea to be one of passion

Those Love songs I penned with my heart
Floating in a realm of the past
Imprisoned in the sphere of memories
Forgotten tales of how we would never be apart

Another broken heart story
And the mirrors are shattering
I am the pieces, the cracks, the distortions
Nothing to reflect but the mask of tragedy

Reason and Revelation
Where I have gone wrong in these schools of thought
Who will resurrect Baghdad’s House of Wisdom
Who will provide the answers?

Talk of flying, romantic gardens
Mythical creatures, mystic paintings
My fingers dancing across piano keys
Was I just a mere abstraction?

A murdered dream
And the fairy tale is fading
I am chasing its happy endings, its light of hope
Running from the storm of this nightmare

I drive alone on this empty and silent road, friend
No light for days, no life for a thousand miles
Sooner or later, I think
The nightmare will end

Blow a kiss to the moon
Compose a verse, listen to the heart
Sooner or later, I hope
I will be home soon

Show me the Path, my King

~ BM ~