Mir Babar Ali Anees

(1803 - 1874 / Faizabad, Uttar Pradesh, India)

The Days Of Pain How To Pass - Poem by Mir Babar Ali Anees

The days of pain how to pass,
Few moments of life yet lumbering, how to pass,
Thanks Anis, past is senility’s noon,
But in grave, night’s occurring, how to pass.

“To every mortal being, eternal I regarded,
Valuable I deemed, that which is to be discarded,
In the ocean of eternity, life is like a bubble,
O ignorant! What’s life? A trifling unrewarded”.

“Each moment of my life may pass in Thy adoration
I submit but to thy prayer and prostration,
O God! Grant me such a span of life,
This may pass in obedience and resignation”.

“Engrossed I ever be, in the messenger’s adoration,
My tongue be used, for the successor’s adoration,
O God! My age be spent like that of a quill,
In Thy prostration, in the savior’s adoration”.

“Drunk deep I am, at each step I waver,
My tavern is my heaven, a source of great pleasure,
Intoxicated I am with love, for the cup-bearer of Kausar.
My eyes are glasses, my heart a real measure”.

“Life is remission, do not spend,
For a while, look at the end,
The lengthening shadow of hope is vain,
Tomorrow is departure, shorten the tale, O Friend!”.

“It’s but for Thy blessing that position I hold,
Respect I command, by bowing at Thy Threshold,
Riches, reverence and unflagging faith,
From Thy treasure, I got gold!”

“Worthy of Thy Majesty, who worshipped Thee, O Creator!,
Each moment, Thy Grace is upon the transgressor,
On the doomsday, I shall but observe,
My sins or Thy Mercy, Which outweigh in measure”.

The oneness of God, each blade of grass manifests,
His Attributes and Grace, each flower reflects,
Like an unbounded sea, is the bosom of man,
Where each breath, the ebb and flow of life sets.

A Peerless gem Husain is, in the vast and Mighty Ocean
Like Mohammed, He is the leader of our nation,
He triumphed over love, by the sacrifice of his Life,
Husain, among the martyrs, is highest in exaltation.

One who craves salvation?
Disgusted he is, with this world of temptation,
How can an eye envelope the two?
O ignorant! Inebriety this is, that’s all sensation.

No hope for life, Sajjad had kept,
Peacefully at night, he never slept.
Never was his face lit with laughter,
For forty years, to his father, he went.

Inhabited is a house, another in desolation,
Marry is one, somebody, a picture of lamentation,
A blend of joy and sorrow, in this world,
Somewhere it’s chest-beat, somewhere exultation.

Alas! Time has changed to a tune, all somber,
A new age has dawned; old order is no longer,
Get away soon from here, O Anis! ,
There is everywhere, chaos and disorder.

Ah this transgression, this pollution of heart,
O anis! Yielded you, to the passion of heart,
These flaunting for your white dress,
How blackened in your soul, what a corruption of heart!.

Even after along span of life, death is a must,
The bubble that life is, shall soon burst,
Make provisions for life hereafter,
O ignorant! Leaving this world, thou shalt go to dust.

To mop tears, a hanky, one has to keep,
These days and these nights are not to sleep,
O friends! The long year is for rejoicings,
Such are Ten Days, When one Wishes to Weep.

From Zodiac, the radiant sun will greet,
Pearl-forming substance, into shell shall seat,
Whether east or West, Buried wherever he is,
The lover of Haider, at Najaf will meet.

As age advanced, eye lost their light,
Companions of youth were out of sight,
Be not oblivious of shroud, O Anis!
Camphoric became the musky hair in a night.

Breath in Bosom is, like the light of day,
Each traveler in this caravan is, on the way,
Never would Anis so lag behind,
O Long Life! It’s all Thy Play.

In silent there resides, the beauty of oration,
In folded eyes these exists, the power of all vision,
Friends fret not, nor frown foes,
How horrible is indeed, grave’s seclusion!

Turning sideward, when do here and there I look?,
Wonder-struck I am, whither I Look,
Be it this world or hereafter, the earth or the sky,
Thou and Thou alone art seen, everywhere I Look.

Born we are for the sorrow to bewail,
Weeping nourishes eyes, without any fail,
With two precious things, god has blessed us all,
Eyes and hands, with these the mourners regale.

Each day there was, a new composition,
Soothing were words, cogent their exposition,
From the pulpit, I fed them novel thoughts,
Down came manna, such was supposition.

Separation has made my heart anguished,
Flames of fire, my signs have extinguished,
Out, out, soon O Anis! Life is ebbing out,
Hapless India is no longer distinguished.

At the grandeur of the King, the shudder,
Servile acts they discharge, with utmost fervor,
This is the way that in ‘Tazia-Khana’.
The banners are bent, when they enter.

Nightingale learns from me, the felicity or oration,
Novelty I give, to the way of lamentation,
For limitless weeping, clouds envy my eyes,
My tears teach rivers, flow and fermentation.

No utterance be there, except in adulation,
From bosom there surges, a sigh of lamentation,
Ransom be my soul, for You and You, O Husain!,
I die for Your Love, with all Exultation.

Unrelenting were the buffets of adversity,
The boat sank, the crew lost in all dignity,
All riddles were but related to life, O Anis!
When I existed not, nothing remained in reality.

Surfeiting sorrow for that noble soul,
May cause a stream of tears to roll,
From the eyes, the drops drip at a time,
Making each-lash, a flowery band as a whole.

No Sorrow is palatable as this lamentation,
In thrashing, chest feels delectable sensation,
Tears became precious pearls, each eye thus speaks,
In Moharrum’s Month, Weeping is an act of Exhilaration.

The stages canopy, I Witnessed,
The heavenly glory, I Witnessed,
Thanks Heaven, To Najaf I flew like dust,
Bu Turab’s courtly beauty, I Witnessed.

Whither wanders, with thy head trailing,
In old age, like a stripling, thou art assailing,
Shrunk is world into a narrow and lowly place,
Bending over the earth, the sky moves unfailing.

The wrongs are measured in the scale of grace,
To heaven, like flower’s fragrance, they do pace,
Like the gates of Khyber, unlocked with Ali’s Ring,
Myriad mysteries are revealed, there exists no trace.

From Murky India, I seek my riddance,
If I avail a friend, I try my deliverance,
When luck has undone the shackles, O Anis!
My feet have refused to move, what a repentance!

To the holy sanctuary, the one who was sent,
Marhab — like youth he killed, with great
Accomplishment!,
All glory be to God, with a tyrant’s sword,
In prostration he was, when his head was rent.

The jealous allowed me no respite,
Denied was thus, all worldly delight,
Had Khizr and Christ been ling this hour,
They should have been, in a pitiable plight.

Restless For Karbala, If there be a visitor,
In adversity, God is His Helper and Nourisher,
At the Holy place, He needs no Guide,
Each of the Footprints Acts as a Pointer.

When body from soul is separated, on that day,
Difficult will to be attend assembly, this way,
It’s no good to blandish new garments,
The same body into shroud shall stay.

Visible are yet, the traces of endearment,
The leader yet showers his love, most fervent,
The banners go ahead, when ‘Zari” is raised,
Abbas is yet devoted, Duty-bound and Diligent.

Pump and show feel threatened by adversity,
Awake! Fear lurks in this way, in all immensity,
Rise! How long will inertia and sloth be there?
Look! In ambuscade, Death dwells with all tenacity.

“Beloved of God we are”, the Sovereign said to enemy,
“We are the main support, of this great canopy,
The light, which the world is kindled with,
We are that constellation, O men of Syrian army!”

Alas! What faithful friends parted this world,
What lovely flowers left this orchard,
Was there a sapling, unvisited by autumn?
Faded not which flower, it was never heard.

In lusterless India, nothing is of essence,
No friend is there, nor an acquaintance,
Go to bright Najaf, O Anis! Your may get there,
Precious pearls and God’s Magnificence.

How to relate that heart is distraught,
Insipid is food, water tastes not,
O Anis! Resign to death somewhere is wilderness,
Covering the nakedness, this way can be wrought.

The faithful found peace, away from infidelity,
From a Noble House, borrowed Kaba its Dignity,
Having held Ali into His Hand, the Holy Prophet Said,
From God, I’ve got This Gem, Peerless for its Majesty’.

In the presence of Hussain, His Brother’s blood was shed,
On river bank, the Famished and Thirsty bled,
Laid was in the centre, the corpse of the warrior,
That side the river flowed, this side oozed Blood all Red.

In this age, not only man is debased and demented,
It’s true; none is happy and contented,
Snare is all around, fear of a fowler too,
How free birds are caged and tormented!.

Such are the luminaries, lustrous is all assembly,
These are the Dear of Zakra and Ali,
About the mourners who bitterly weep,
The sovereign says, “Such men are our friends verily”

Senses I have lost, my own shadow I dread,
I am that wizard, from trap who has always fled,
A lover of that I am, whom I have never seen,
Burning, yet no candle is there, I’m that moth inbred.

By God’s grace, with the blessings of the Messenger,
This city may flourish and thrive for ever,
Such is the ruler and such the potentates,
O God! May Hyderabad ever prosper.

Those who reached the King of Karbala,
Verily, they reached Mohammed Mustafa,
What a majesty Of Hussain’s Visitor’s, O God!
Those who reach Hussain, They reach Allah.

In the lap of grave, when sleep is a must.
No bed shall be there, except all dust,
Ah! It shall be utter loneliness, O Anis!
I shall be alone, and the grave’s thrust.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 19, 2012



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