About Grief - 2

Love does not die by the beloved’s death It stays in the soul as grief but does not die

About Grief - 2
Photo by Ann / Unsplash

Falsafa-e-Gham (Philosophy of Grief) from Bang-e-dara

Now that I am 27 years old. I don't study or indulge in philosophical texts, debates or thinking anymore. I say Philosophy is a pursuit of kids. It doesn't mean you shouldn't pursue it. You should. You should when you are a kid.
Otherwise... you will stay a kid. Grown ups don't have much to do with it and you can't be grown up without it.

Don't look for answers in Philosophy. There are no answers.

Iqbal's most lost and depressing of the works are in Bang-e-dara.

Here goes Philosophy of Grief...

Though the wine of life is the embodiment of pleasure
The cloud of life carries tears also in its skirt

The bubble of life dances on the wave of grief
“Alam’s” Surah is also part of the Book of Life

By losing even a single petal the rose ceases to be rose
If the nightingale is unaware of autumn it ceases to be nightingale

The heart’s story is colored with Longing’s blood
The human music is incomplete without lament’s cry

For the discerning eye the grief’s scar is insight
For the soul sigh’s mirror is beauty’s accompaniment

Incidents of grief give perfection to human nature
The dust of anguish is rouge for the heart’s mirror

Youth is awakened from sleep’s pleasure by grief
This orchestra wakes up with this plectrum alone

For the heart’s bird grief is the strongest feather
The human heart is a secret whose disclosure is grief

Grief is not distress, but is the soul’s silent song
Which is locked in the embrace of existence’ harp

Whose night is not acquainted with Ya Rab’s plaint!
Whose night does not manifest the stars of tears

Whose heart’s cup does not know breaking with grief
Who always remained ecstatic with pleasure and exhilaration

The gardener whose hand is safe from thorn’s tip
Whose love is unaware of the pathos of separation

Though grief’s affliction is far from his life
The secret of life is concealed from his eyes

O the one with comprehension of life’s affairs
Why should not grief and sorrow be easy for you?

Love is the introduction to the Eternity’s old treatise
Human intellect is mortal but Love is eternally alive

The evening of death is no match to the sun of Love
Love is the warmth of life and lasts till eternity

If annihilation had been intended for the departed beloved
Love’s zeal would have also departed from the Lover’s heart

Love does not die by the beloved’s death
It stays in the soul as grief but does not die

Lover’s immortality is the beloved’s immortality
The beloved’s life is unacquainted with mortality

The spring comes singing from the mountain top
Teaching the art of singing to the birds of the sky

Its mirror is bright like the Houri’s cheek
But falling on valley’s rocks it is shattered

The river’s pearls became ever more beautiful
That is by this fall they became sparkles of water

The river of flowing mercury spread and became scattered
A whole entire world of restless drops became manifest

But separation is the training for reunion to those drops
After a while the same river is running like a silver string

The flowing river of life is of the same origin
Falling from high it became the concourse of humanity

In the depths of this world we part to reunite
But we cry considering temporary parting as permanent

Though the dead do die they do not perish
Really they do not get separated from us

When Intellect be surrounded in worldly calamities
Or when it be besieged in the dreary night of youth

When the heart’s skirt be the battlefield of good and evil
When journey to the goal be difficult in road’s darkness

When the Khizr of courage may be resigned from longing
When Intellect be helpless and conscience a silent voice

When not a single fellow‐traveler be in the vale of life
When not even fire‐fly’s spark to show the way there be

The foreheads of the dead brighten up in this darkness
As stars are shining in the darkness of the night.