This week’s offering is by the Indian Sufi poet and musician, Amir Khusrau (1253–1325). Throughout the Islamic world, this coming Wednesday, 6 May, will be celebrated as Khidr’s Day – the day of the ‘green man’. In the mystical tradition, Khidr is the hidden guide, ever-living because he drank from the waters of life.

Ghazal 1836

sabza nau-khīz ast u bārān dur-fishān āyad hami

Green is newly sprouted
and rain comes scattering pearls
and the heart comes
to incline to fields
and flowing waters.
The clouds raining jewels;
you’d fancy they come
from the seashore,
caravans loaded with pearls.
It’s a place for the heart
to blossom like a rose
with joy, for today
the scent of that youth
comes on the east breeze.

 Elegantly
tossing his curls in every direction
he walks by, and
a million hearts come
trailing in his wake.
If my soul survives
forever
it’s no surprise
for the water of life comes
flowing down soul-streams
from your lips. 

I don’t know how sleep
comes to your eyes
when such cries for help
come from your street all night.
May the rose bower
of your beauty grow fresher
each moment, for why else does
Khusrau begin
each early morning
to sing and lament
like the nightingale?

Translated by Paul E. Losensky and Sunil Sharma.

Poems for These Times

‘Poems for These Times’ is a special collection of poetry offered in response to the Covid-19 pandemic. It is intended as a way of sustaining us, and to give us something on which to meditate together during these difficult and challenging times.

There will be just one poem each week, so that we can really stay with what is offered. We can read it – perhaps aloud – to ourselves or to any companions in our isolation, and sense the vibrations through our whole being. For poetry has the power to affect us on every level – body, mind, heart and soul. It has a magic, which, in the words of poet Adrienne Rich:

“… goes back very far: the rune; the chant; the incantation; the spell; the kenning; sacred words; the naming of the child; the plant, the insect, the ocean, the configuration of stars, the snow, the sensation in the body… The physical reality of the human voice.”

Of course, not every poem will appeal to everyone – that is inevitable. But there is also the possibility that staying with something that does not immediately appeal can be stimulating and helpful. Experience suggests that sustained attention and contemplation of a poem’s music, words and thoughts can be deeply rewarding.

It would be lovely to share any responses and thoughts you may have through our comments section below.

Barbara Vellacott