Two Blessings in Every Breath: The Spiritual Prelude of the Golestān

 بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

 سعدی
  گلستان » دیباچه

Saʿdī — Gulistān — Preface (Dībācheh)

  مِنت خُدای را عَزَّ وَ جَلّ کِه طاعَتَش مُوجِبِ قُربَت است وَ به شُکر اَندَرَش مَزیدِ نِعمَت

Thanks be to God, Mighty and Majestic— whose obedience brings nearness, and whose gratitude increases blessing.

Explanation:
Saʿdī opens with minnat (gratitude/acknowledgment), placing God as the source of both qurbat (nearness) through obedience and mazīd-i niʿmat (increase of blessing) through thanksgiving. This immediately frames the spiritual economy of worship: obedience draws closer, gratitude multiplies grace.

 
هَر نَفَسی کِه فُرو می‌رَوَد، مُمدِّ حَیات است وَ چُون بَرمی‌آیَد، مُفَرِّحِ ذات

Every breath inhaled sustains life, and when it is exhaled, it gladdens the soul.

Explanation:
Life itself is sustained by breath, and joy is refreshed in its release. Saʿdī makes breathing itself a metaphor for divine favor—both ḥayāt (existence) and farraḥ (delight). This resonates deeply with Sufi practice of dhikr nafasī (remembrance with each breath).

پَس دَر هَر نَفَسی دو نِعمَت مَوجُود است وَ بَر هَر نِعمَتی شُکری واجِب

Thus, in every breath two blessings are present, and for every blessing, a thanks is due.

Explanation:
Gratitude is shown to be inexhaustible: each blessing requires thanks, and each act of thanks itself becomes another blessing. The cycle is infinite, reminding humans of their perpetual indebtedness before God.

اَز دَست و زَبان کِه بَرآیَد
کَز عُهدَهٔ شُکرَش به‌دَر آید؟

What hand or tongue could ever suffice
to discharge the debt of His thanks?

Explanation:
Human faculties—speech and action—are inadequate to meet the infinite demand of thanksgiving. Saʿdī dramatizes human limitation against divine abundance.

اِعمَلوا آلَ داوُدَ شُكراً وَ قَلیلٌ مِن عِبادیَ الشَّكور

“Work, O House of David, in gratitude; yet few of My servants are truly thankful.” [Qurʾān 34:13]
 

Explanation
The Qurʾānic citation underscores that gratitude (shukr) is not merely verbal but active (ʿamal). The reminder of scarcity—qalīl (few)—humbles the reader: even prophets were warned of how rare true thankfulness is.

بَنده هَمان بِه کِه زِ تَقصیرِ خُویش
عُذر به دَربارِ خُدا ی آوَرَد
وَر نَه سِزاوارِ خُداوَندیش
کَس نَتَوانَد کِه به‌جای آوَرَد

It is best for a servant, for his own shortcomings,
to bring excuse before the court of God—
for otherwise, none is worthy of His majesty,
nor able to fulfill what is due to Him.


Explanation: 

Here Saʿdī shifts to humility: the best offering of the servant is an acknowledgment of failure. Divine majesty (khudāvandī) cannot be matched by human effort; all worship is ultimately inadequate, so excuse and repentance are the highest stance.

Awwal Reshi

 

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

Poem of Alamdari-i Kashmir, explaining about the Reshis of Kashmir:

 

أَوَّل رِیشِيٖ أَحْمَد ﷺ رِیشِيٖ

دُوٖيٖمْ حَضْرَتِ أُوَيْسْ آو

 
ترْيِمْ رِیشِيٖ زَلْكا رِیشِيٖ

ژوٚرِمْ حَضْرَتِ مِيرَاں آو

پَانْژٖمْرِیشِيٖ رُمہٕ رِیشِيٖ

شِیٖوٗمْ حَضْرَتِ پَلَاسْ آو

سَتْمِسْ كَرْهَمْ دَشْنٕا هِشِي

بُوٚ كُسْ رِیشِيٖ تَہْ مِيٖهْ كْيَا نَاو؟

awal reshi ahmad ﷺ reshi
doyem hazrati Owais aav
treyim reshi is Zulka (Zulkar) reshi
tsurim hazrati-i Meeraan aav
paentsim reshi Ruma reshi
sheyim hazrati Pilaas aav
Satmis karnem hish na dishey
Be kus reshi te me kya naav

First Rishi is Ahmad ﷺ Rishi. (A reverent name for the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ).
Second, Hazrat Uwais (al‑Qarni) came.
Third Rishi was Zulkar Rishi,
Fourth came Hazrati Meeraan,
Fifth Rishi was Ruma Rishi,
Sixth came Hazrati Pilaas,
As for the seventh—(me), don’t parade me as a “Rishi”;  
Which rishi I am, what is my name.

 

• “Ahmad Rishi” — Sheikh‑ul‑Alam (Nund Rishi) starts the spiritual “family tree” with the Prophet ﷺ (one of the Prophet’s names is Ahmad ﷺ ). It’s his way of saying the Kashmiri Rishi path begins with prophethood. Academia

• “Uwais (al‑Qarni) came” — He places the next link as the early Muslim ascetic Uwais al‑Qarni (from Yemen), a classic model of devotion in Sufi lore; Nund Rishi presents himself as belonging to this Uwaysī line of spiritual inheritance. Academia  

حضرتس ﷺ تہ اُوَيْسؒ قَرنس، تِم زَہ تَتِّہ يِلہِ مِيجائے
بوْخ نَه حُكْم باوَت، كَرنس كَر بَندن توشہِ خُدايِ

Ḥazratis ﷺ ti Ūwēsؒ Qarnas, tim zah tatti yili mījāy
Bōkh nah ḥukm bāwat, karnas kar bandan tōsha-i Khudāy

(Minor spelling varies across songbooks; I’ve kept wording and normalized spacing/short vowels.)

When the Prophet ﷺ and Uwais of Qarn met there,
no permission to speak was granted; God provided sustenance for His bound-servants 

 

• “Zulka (Zulkar) Rishi” — A Kashmiri figure associated in tradition with Dandakvan/Dandak Van; Nund Rishi praises his hard ascetic life (“subsisted on wild shrubs”). markazinoor.uok.edu.in+1

ڈنڈَک وَنَک زُلکا ریشی، ڪژھ پَھل کہِت کَرَن سُوی
پُختَه بَهكِت آس مَكھَت گوی، تَت مَہ دَرد تُ دِوَے

Ḍandak vanak Zulka Rēshi, kəzh phal kahit karan suy
Pukhta bahkit ās, makhat goy; tat ma dard tu dīwē
 

Zulka Rishi, dwelling in the Dandak forest, lived on wild fruits and kept to worship.
Hardened in discipline, burning like a kiln—grant me, too, that wound (of love).

 

• “Miran Rishi” — Another early Kashmiri saint; one well‑known note says he “lived for a thousand lunar months,” which is hagiographic shorthand for a very long, saintly life. markazinoor.uok.edu.in

رِش وَن ہِند مِیران ریشیؒ! چَندَرَه ساسَس اَن جَل چُوی
اَده دِيه هَت آكاش گوی، تُت مَہ وِرد تُ دِوَے 

Rish-wan hind Mīrān Rēshi! chándarah sāsas an jal chui
Adah dyih hat ākāsh goy; tut ma wərd tu dīwē


Miran Rishi of Rish-wān—who ate (simple) bread and drank water for a thousand months;
in the end he went to the heavens in his very body—grant me that rank as well.

• “Ruma Rishi” — Now we’re in Kashmir. Ruma (Rumah) Rishi is a local saint remembered with a cave at Rahmoo in Pulwama; Kashmiri sources explicitly say Sheikh‑ul‑Alam acknowledged him in these verses. Revered Kashmiri ascetic, secluded in the cave at Rāmūha (Rahmoo), Pulwama; subsisted on wild herbs/greens, abstained from meat and grains, spoke to no one. Famous encounters in lore (travels, Hajj seven times; wild animals walking alongside; fire kindled miraculously). Long life traditions and episodes (e.g., torment from a poisoned thorn, “sun appearing” at his call, unusual winters). Kashmir Life+1

• “Pilas Rishi” — Another Kashmiri ascetic of the older, local Rishi tradition whom Nund Rishi honors by name in his poetry.  Scholarly notes group Pilas with the “rishis of yore” that inspired the Shaikh.  Brother-disciple of Lūdarmān; Rumā Rishi. Severe austerities (by day no food, by night no sleep); sometimes broke fast by licking white bark. Episodes of bilocation/karāmāt (seen at Minā on ʿĪd while his followers were with him in Bumzu cave). Passed at 118; buried at Kariwa Bijbihara; two sons: Khalasman (Kilas) and Yasman (from before his Islam). Hazrat Lūdarmān (Lūdermān) Reshi رحمۃ اللہ علیہ. From Gadda Sotho; embraced Islam through Plasman Reshi and Ramu Reshi; lived extreme zuhd (asceticism). For decades ate only wild greens, kept little contact; sojourned in India, served Sirhang Reshi on Mount Shawālak; later worshiped in the Risari Ari caves with a circle of Reshis.Died at ~130; buried in the same cave. markazinoor.uok.edu.in

• “The seventh (me)…” — The closing couplet flips to self‑effacement: Nund Rishi refuses to put himself on the same pedestal. A widely cited scholarly translation renders the pair:
  “The seventh (me) is miscalled a Rishi; do I deserve to be called a Rishi? what is my name?”
  That’s the sense of your line “hish na dishey” here—don’t parade me as a Rishi; I’m no one. Academia+1

  
  

Notes:

• Order varies in print. Different manuscripts and books swap the middle four names (Ruma, Pilas, Zulka, Miran). The variant you sent (Ruma 3rd → Pilas 4th → Zulka 5th → Miran 6th) appears in performances; another frequent printed order is Zulka → Miran → Ruma → Pilas. Either way, the message doesn’t change: a chain from the Prophet and Uwais into local Kashmiri rishis, ending in the poet’s humility. The Creative Launcher+1

• What “Rishi/Reshi” means here. Rishi is a Sanskrit word for sage; Nund Rishi deliberately uses a familiar Kashmiri term to talk about saints and knit the local ascetic heritage with Islamic devotion. University sources on Sheikh‑ul‑Alam stress how he honored these local rishis in his verses.

 

 

 

For those who seek the Qibla

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

In Kashmiri Sufi circles, this poem is recited out of devotion especially around Mawlid celebrations. I couldn’t find this poem in any reliable Attār editions or databases; it appears to be a later devotional piece (often circulating with South‑Asian spellings) misattributed to Attār, but the last couplet has the name Attar in it.

1

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

مِحْرابِ دُعا گَردان، اَبْرُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

English:
For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;
make the prayer‑niche itself the curve of Muḥammad’s ﷺ brow.

اردو:
اگر قبله نما چاہئے تو محمد ﷺ کا چہرہ دیکھ؛

دعا کی محراب کو محمد ﷺ کی بھنوؤں کی کمان بنا لے۔

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

 

2 

مَستیم زِ بُویِ او و دِیوانهٔ رُویِ او؛

زَنجیرِ دِلِ ما کُن هَر مُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

 

English:
We are intoxicated on his scent and crazy for his face;
make every hair of Muḥammad’s ﷺ a chain upon our hearts.

اردو:
ہم اُس کی خوشبو سے مست ہیں اور اُس کے رخ پر دیوانے ہیں
ہمارے دل کی زنجیر محمد ﷺ کے ہر بال کو بنا دے۔ 

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

3

 تا نِیست، به او هَستیم؛ دِیوانه و سَرْمَستیم؛

بَر گَردَنِ دِل بَستیم گیسُویِ  مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

English:
Forever non existent, by him we exist ; we are crazy and brim‑drunk;
we have fastened Muḥammad’s ﷺ tresses round the neck of the heart.

اردو:

ہم کچھ نہیں، اُسی کے سبب ہیں؛ ہم دیوانہ اور سرمست ہیں؛
ہم نے دل کی گردن میں محمد ﷺ کی زلفیں باندھ دی ہیں۔

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

4

فَیّاضِ اَزَل دُرْجی اَز مُشْکِ لُطْیِفَم داد

خُوش‌ یافْتَهٔ بِسْمِل خُوش‌خُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

English:

The Eternal Bestower gave me a delicate casket made of the musk of His mercy,
in which was placed, for the love-slain, the radiant essence of the gentle Muhammad ﷺ.” 

اردو:
فیّاضِ ازل نے کرم کی نازک خوشبو سے معطّر ایک صندوقچہ مجھے بخشا—
مجھ عشق میں بسمل  کو  ؛  رحمت و نرمی کے پیکر، محمد ﷺ کی دولت نصیب ہوئی۔

 

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

 

5

شُد چَشْمِ خُدا‌بینان  زان نُورِ رُخْش رُوشَن؛

آیینهٔ وَحْدَت بِین آن رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

English: 

By the light of his face, the God‑seers’ eyes became truly God‑seeing—
behold, in that face of Muhammad ﷺ , the mirror of oneness.

اردو:

اُس رخ کے نور سے خدابینوں کی آنکھیں واقعی خدابیں ہو گئیں؛
اس چہرۂ محمد ﷺ میں وحدت کا آئینہ دیکھ ۔

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

 

6

اَز ناوَکِ اِعْجازَش گَشتَند هَمه عاجِز؛

بُت‌خانه شِکَنْ بِنْگَر  بازُو مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

English: 

By the arrow of his miracle they all were left powerless;

Behold the arm of Muhammad ﷺ — the breaker of idol-temples!”

اردو:

اُس کے اعجاز کے تیر سے سب عاجز رہ گئے؛
محمد ﷺ—بت خانہ شکن—کے ہاتھ  کو دیکھ۔

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

7

اَز عِطْرِ عَطایِ او عَطّار مُعَطَّر شُد؛

بُو بُرْدَه مَشامِ جان خُوش‌بُویِ  مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

English:

From the fragrance of His bounty, ʿAttār became perfumed;
the soul’s very nostrils have caught the sweet scent of Muḥammad ﷺ .

اردو:

اُس کی عطا کی خوشبو سے عطار معطّر ہو گیا؛
جان کی مشام نے محمد ﷺ کی خوشبو دار مہک پا لی۔
 

Refrain

گَر قِبْلَه‌نَما خواهی،خواهی، بِین رُویِ مُحَمَّد ﷺ را

For those who seek the Qibla, look upon the face of Muhammad ﷺ ;

Keep your mind on the spinning(work)

 

 

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

بُلّھے شاہ

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے 

Keep your mind on spinning, girl. 

Sayyid Abdullāh Shāh Qādrī^[a] (c. 1680 – 30 August 1757), popularly known as Baba Bulleh Shah^[b] or as Bulleya, wrote this kafi commonly titled کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے (“Keep your mind on spinning, girl”). Standard printed/online editions carry the complete text; Folk Punjab+1

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

1

 نِت مَتِّیں دیندی ما، دِھیا

کیوں پھرنی ایں اینویں، آ دِھیا

 نہ شرم حیا نوں گوا دِھیا

 توں کدی تاں سمجھ ندان کُڑے 

Mother counsels you every day, my daughter;
why roam about so idly, daughter?
Don’t throw away your modesty and grace;
at least once, understand, simple one.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

2 

 چرخہ مفت تیرے ہتھ آیا

 پلّیوں نہیں کُجھ کھول گوایا

 نہیںوں قدر محنت دا پایا

 جد ہویا کم آسان کُڑے

 

The wheel came freely into your hands;
you hadn’t even loosed a skein, yet you wasted it;
you never valued labor—
you let go when the work grew easy.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

3

 چرخہ بنیا خاطر تیری

کھیڈن دی کر حرص تھوریڑی

ہونا نہیںوں ہور وڈیری

مت کر کوئی اگیان کُڑے 

 

The wheel was made for your sake;
curb that itch for play;
you won’t grow greater that way—
don’t act in ignorance.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

4

 چرخہ تیرا رنگ رنگیلا

 ریس کریندا سبھ قبیلہ

چلدے چارے کر لے حیلہ

 ہو گھر دے وچ آوادان کُڑے

Your wheel is bright and many‑colored;
everyone in the clan competes in skill.
While it turns on its four legs, be resourceful—
bring prosperity into the house.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

5

  اس چرخے دی قیمت بھاری

 توں کیہہ جانیں قدر گواری

 اُچّی نظر پھریں ہنکاری

وچ اپنے شان گمان کُڑے 

This wheel is dearly priced;
what would a rustic know of its worth?
Your gaze runs proud and scornful—
caught up in your own pomp and pride.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

 6

میں کُوکاں کر کھلِیاں باہیِں

 نہ ہو غافل سمجھ کداہِیں 

 ایسا چرخہ گھڑنا ناہِیں

 پھیر کسے ترکھان کڑے 

Calling out, I stand with open arms;
don’t be heedless—grasp it somehow.
A wheel like this will never be made again,
not by any carpenter.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

7

 ایہہ چرخہ توں کیوں گوایا

 کیوں تُوں کھیہ دے وچ رلایا

 جد دا ہتھ تیرے ایہہ آیا

 تُوں کدے نہ ڈاہیا آن کُڑے

Why did you squander this wheel,
why did you mix it with dust?
From the day it came into your hands
you never once set it right.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

8

  نِت مَتِّیں دیاں وللّی نُوں 

 اِس بھولی، کملی، جھلّی نُوں

 جد پَوسی وکھت اِکلّی نُوں

 تد ہا ہا کرسی جان کُڑے

Daily they advise this vine‑thin girl—
this simple, moonstruck, scatter‑brained one.
When the hour presses and you’re alone,
then you’ll cry “Alas!” and understand.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

  

9

 مُڈھوں دی تون رجک وہُونی

 گوہڑیوں نہ توں کَتّی پونی

 ہُن کیوں پِھرنی ایں نِموں جُھونی

 کِس دا کریں گمان کُڑے۔ 

Your portion was set from the start;
you never spun thread while there was time.
Why wander now, bent and stooped—
what status are you boasting of?

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

10

  نہ تکلا راس کراویں تُوں

 نہ بایڑ ماہل پواویں تُوں

 کیوں گھڑی مُڑی چرخہ چاویں تُوں

 توں کرنی ایں اپنا زیان کُڑے۔

You haven’t set the spindle true,
nor fixed the distaff well;
why this on‑again, off‑again love for the wheel?
You’re only harming yourself.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

11

 ڈِنگا تکلا راس کرا لَے

 نال شتابی بایڑ پوا لَے

 جیونکر وَگّے تیویں وگا لَے 

مت کر کوئی اگیان کڑے

Set the long spindle right;
quickly fit the flyer/distaff;
let life’s breath flow as it is meant to flow—
don’t act in ignorance.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

12

 اج گھر نویں کپاہ کُڑے

 توں جھب جھب ویلنا ڈاہ کُڑے

 رُوں ویل، پنجاون جاہ کُڑے

 پھیر کل نہ تیرا جان کُڑے

New cotton has come home today;
shake out the slubs, don’t delay;
card and comb it into slivers;
tomorrow may not be yours.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

  

13

 جدوں رُوں پِنجا لیاویں گی

وچ سیّاں پُونیاں پاویں گی

مُڑ آپے ای پئی بھاویں گی

 وچ سارے جگ جہاں کُڑے

When you draw out the strands,
you’ll string your Beloved’s beads within;
then you yourself will start to love it—
before the whole wide world.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 14

 تیرے نال دِیاں سبھ سیاں نی

 کت پُونیاں سبھناں لِئیاں نی

 تینوں بیٹھی نوں پِچھے پئیاں نی 

 کیوں بیٹھی ایں ہُن حیران کُڑے۔

All your friends are at it;
they’ve spun their skeins for everyone;
they even come asking you, who sit idle—
why sit here now, bewildered?

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

15

 دِیوا اپنے پاس جگاویں

 کت کت سُوت بھروٹے پاویں

 اَکِّھیں وچوں رات لنگھاویں

 اوکھی کر کے جان کُڑے

Light the lamp beside you;
twist the thread, little by little;
let the night pass before your eyes—
learn the hard path by doing.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

16

 ایہہ پیکا راج دن چار کُڑے

 نہ کھیڈو کھیڈ گزار کُڑے

 نہ رہو ویہلی ، کر کار کُڑے

 گھر بار نہ کر ویران کُڑے

These maiden‑days are only a few;
don’t while them away in play;
don’t sit idle—do your work;
don’t leave the home desolate.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl. 

17

 تُوں سُتّیاں رین گزار نہیں

 مُڑ آونا دوجی وار نہیں

 پھر بہنا ایس بھنڈار نہیں

 وچ اِکّو جیڈے ہان کُڑے

You can’t sleep your nights away;
there won’t be a second turn;
this storehouse won’t be filled again—
we’re given just this one share.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

18

 توں سدا نہ پیکے رہنا ایں

 نہ پاس امڑی دے بہنا ایں

 بھا! انت وچھوڑا سہنا ایں

وسّ پئیں گی سسّ ننان کُڑے

You won’t stay forever at your parents’ house,
nor always sit by your mother;
in the end you must bear parting—
sisters‑in‑law will surround you there.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

  

19

 کت لے نی کجھ، کَتا لَے نی

 ہُن تانی تند اُنا لَے نی

 تُوں اپنا داج رنگا لَے نی

 تُوں تد ہوسَیں پردھان کُڑے

Spin something—spin;
now set warp and weft;
dye your own trousseau;
then you’ll truly stand out.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl. 

20

 جد گھر بیگانے جاویں گی

 مُڑ وَت نہ اوتھوں آویں گی

 اوتھے جا کے پچّھوں تاویں گی

 کُجھ اگدوں کر سمیان کُڑے۔

When you go to a stranger’s house,
you won’t be coming back;
there you’ll ask and regret—
so do something in good time, now.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

21

 اج ایڈا تیرا کم کُڑے 

کُیوں ہوئی ایں توں بے غم کُڑے

 کِیہہ کر لینا اُس دم کُڑے 

 جد گھر آئے مہمان کُڑے

Today your task is just this much—
why be so carefree?
What will you do at that hour
when guests arrive at the door?

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

22

 جد سبھ سَیّاں ٹُر جاون گِیاں

 پھیر اوتھوں مُول نہ آون گِیاں

 آ چرخے مُول نہ ڈاہون گِیاں

 تیرا ترِنجن پیا ویران کُڑے۔

When all the friends depart,
they won’t return from there;
none will sit at the wheel again—
your women’s spinning‑circle will lie deserted.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

23

 کر مان نہ حُسن جوانی دا

 پردیس نہ رہن سیلانی دا 

 کوئی دنیا جُھوٹھی فانی دا 

 نہ رہسی نام نشان کُڑے۔

Don’t take pride in beauty and youth;
don’t stay a wanderer in foreign lands;
this world is false and passing—
no name or sign will remain.

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

24

 اِک اوکھا ویلا آوے گا

 سبھ ساک سین بھج جاوے گا

 کر مدد پار لنگھاوے گا

 اوہ بُلّھے دا سُلطان کُڑے

A hard hour will come;
all kin and acquaintances will flee;
the One will help and carry you across—
Bulleh’s “Sultan” (the Lord).

Refrain

کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے

Keep your mind on spinning, girl.

 

Sources & notes

• Full Shahmukhi text and variant readings are available here (the online transcript cites a Lahore Punjabi Adabi Board edition): کر کتّن ول دھیان کُڑے. Folk Punjab

• A parallel compilation with the same stanza (including “میں کوکاں کر کھلیاں باہیں … ایسا چرخہ گھڑنا ناہیں / پھیر کسے ترکھان کڑے”) appears in Kafian — Baba Bulleh Shah. Punjabi Kavita

 

 

Saʿdī on the Religion of Love

 

 بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

 سعدی

 » دیوان اشعار » غزلیات »

Saʿdī —Diwan- Ghazals

This ghazal from Saʿdī of Shiraz speaks in the classic language of Persian love—where the beloved is both human and more‑than‑human, and love itself becomes a creed. The poem weaves together famous lovers—Majnūn & Laylā Farhād & Shīrīn, Vāmiq & ʿAzrā—to show that true fidelity is measured not by words at the river’s edge but by the one who is already drowning. Saʿdī turns law and commerce into metaphors for devotion: there is no other “deal,” and any bargain struck without the Beloved is to be canceled. Even the Beloved’s jafā (cruelty) carries the scent of wafā (faithfulness). The closing couplet turns inward: wash the tablet of the heart of every other image; knowledge that does not open a path to the Haqq (the Real) is only ignorance.  

 مَجْنُونِ عِشْق را دِگَر اِمْروز حالَت اَست
کِه اِسْلام دینِ لِیلی و دِگَر ضَلالَت اَست 

Today, Love’s Majnūn is in another state: his Islam is Layla—all else is misguidance.

Layla as “Islam.” Saʿdī makes single‑hearted devotion the lover’s “religion.” He pits dīn (creed) against ḍalālat (straying) to say: anything but Layla is err

فَرْهاد را اَز آنْ‌چِه کِه شِیرین تُرُش کُنَد
این را شَکیب نِیست، گَر آن را مَلالَت اَست 

Whatever Shīrīn turns bitter for Farhād, he cannot bear; should she feel the least displeasure, his patience break.

Pronoun play (īn/ān). “This one” (the lover) cannot bear what “that one” (the beloved) frowns upon; the lover’s patience is keyed to her slightest mood.

عُذْرا کِه نا‌نِوِشْتِه بِخوانَد حَدیثِ عِشْق
دانَد کِه آبِ دیدهٔ وامِق، رِسالَت اَست  

ʿAzrā—who reads the tale of love before it’s written—knows the water of Wāmiq’s eyes is the very letter.

ʿAzrā reads love before it’s written; resālat is “message/letter,” so Wāmiq’s tears themselves deliver the story. 

مُطْرِب، هَمین طَریقِ غَزَل‌گو نِگاه دار
کِاین رَه کِه بَرگِرِفْت، بِه جایی دَلالَت اَست 

Minstrel, keep to this very manner of the ghazal; the path we have taken points to a true destination.

“Keep this way” signals fidelity to the ghazal’s path; here dalālat flips to its other sense, “pointing the way.” 

ای مُدَّعی کِه می‌گُذَری بَر کِنارِ آب
ما را کِه غَرْقَه‌ایم، نَدانِی چِه حالَت اَست 

O claimant who strolls along the water’s edge—you cannot know the condition of us who are drowning.

Maddaʿī (“pretender/claimant”) walks safely at the edge; only the drowning know the sea. 

زِین دَر کُجا رَویم؟ کِه ما را بِه خاکِ او
و او را بِه خونِ ما کِه بِریزَد، حَوالَت اَست 

From this threshold, where could we go? It is decreed that we belong to her dust—and that she should spill our blood.

Lovers belong to the beloved’s dust; her “spilling our blood” is standard hyperbole for total surrender. 

گَر سَرِ قَدَم نَمی‌کُنَمَش پیشِ اَهلِ دِل
سَر بَر نَمی‌کُنَم، کِه مَقامِ خِجالَت اَست 

If before the people of heart I do not make his footprint my crown, I will not raise my head—shame is my station.

Placing the Beloved’s footprint’s dust on one’s head marks reverence; without that, the lover’s proper “station” is shame. 

جُز یادِ دوست هَر چِه کُنی، عُمْر ضایِع اَست
جُز سِرِّ عِشْق، هَر چِه بُگویی، بُطالَت اَست 

All you do apart from remembering the Friend is a squandered life; all you say apart from love’s secret is vain.

Outside remembrance of the Friend, acts and words waste the years; only the sirr‑e ʿishq (secret of love) matters. 
 

ما را دِگَر مُعامِلِه با هیچ‌کَس نَمانْد
بَیْعی کِه بی‌حُضورِ تُو کَرْدَم، اِقالَت اَست  

We have no dealings left with anyone else; the sale I struck without you present is to be rescinded.

Muʿāmila/bayʿ/iqālat (deal/sale/rescission): any bargain struck without the Beloved present must be undone. 
 

اَز هَر جَفات، بُویِ وَفایی هَمی‌دِهَد
دَر هَر تَعَنُّتَت، هِزار اِسْتِمالَت اَست 

From each of your cruelties there wafts a scent of fidelity; within every harshness of yours lie a thousand coaxings.

Saʿdī hears fidelity inside cruelty; even severity (taʿannut) carries “a thousand coaxings” (istimālāt), the pull hidden in push.

سَعْدی، بِشُوی لَوْحِ دِل اَز نَقْشِ غَیْرِ او
عِلْمی کِه رَه بِه حَقّ نَنمایَد، جَهالَت اَست 

Saʿdī, wash the tablet of your heart clean of all but His image; knowledge that shows no path to the Real is ignorance.

Scrub the heart’s tablet of all but Him; knowledge that doesn’t open a path to al‑Ḥaqq (the Real) is only ignorance. 

 

 

 

Notes:

Vāmiq o ʿAzrā (وامِق و عَذرا)—“the Ardent Lover and the Virgin”—is an early Persian verse romance (11th c., by ʿUnṣurī of Ghazna) that reworks an older Greek love‑story, Metiochus and Parthenope, most likely via an Arabic intermediary. Only fragments of the Persian poem survive, but the plot can be reconstructed: a brilliant princess (ʿAzrā) and an exiled youth (Vāmiq) meet at a temple, fall in love, are torn apart by politics and war, endure captivity and slavery, and—depending on the version—may or may not reunite.

Vāmiq and ʿAzrā are the medieval “lover and the virgin” whose story—born in Greek fiction, reborn in Persian verse—became shorthand for love that communicates without words. 

To Visit the Friend is to Visit God

 

 

 بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

 مولانا
مولانا » مثنوی معنوی » دفتر دوم »
بخش ۴۹ - وحی کردن حق تعالی به موسی علیه السلام کی چرا به عیادت من نیامدی

Mawlānā — Masnavī-ye Ma‘navī — Book Two
Section 49: God Most High Reveals to Moses (peace be upon him): “Why did you not come to visit Me?”

آمَد از حَقّ سُوْیِ مُوسَی این عِتاب

کای طُلوعِ ماه دیده، تو زِ جِیب  

Translation: 
A rebuke came from the Divine to Moses:
“O you whose eyes have beheld the rising moon from the hem (of the Unseen)!”

Explanation: 

God addresses Moses with affection and grandeur, reminding him of the privilege of witnessing divine glory—ṭulūʿ-i māh is a metaphor for spiritual illumination, the “moon” rising from the unseen hem of reality (jīb). Yet the praise is the prelude to correction.

 

مَشرِقَت کَردَم زِ نُورِ ایزَدی

 

مَن حَقّم، رَنجور گَشْتَم، نامَدِی

Translation: 

“I made you shine with the light of Divinity,
Yet I, the Truth, have fallen ill—and you did not come.”

Explanation: 

The paradox is deliberate: God, al-Ḥaqq, says “I have fallen ill.” This is the language of divine intimacy, hinting at the ḥadīth qudsī: “I was sick, and you did not visit Me,” where God identifies with the condition of His servant.

گُفت: سُبحانَا! تو پاکی از زِیان

 

این چه رَمز است؟ این بُکُن، یا رَبّ، بَیان

Translation: 

Moses said, “Glory be to You! You are far above all harm.
What mystery is this? Reveal it to me, my Lord.”

Explanation: 

Moses’ theological instinct protests—God is free from defect. The Prophet seeks to understand the ramz (hidden sign) behind such words. Rumi is careful to show that questioning God here is not doubt, but the seeking of wisdom

 

باز فَرمودَش که: در رَنجوریم

 

چون نَپُرسیدِی تو از رویِ کَرَم

Translation: 

The Divine replied again: “I am in affliction,
Because you did not inquire after Me in kindness

Explanation: 

The Divine brings the rebuke into focus: Moses’ lapse was a failure of compassion—he did not check on one in distress. The “I” is still veiled; the full identification will follow.

گُفت: یا رَبّ! نیست نُقصانی تو را

 

عَقل گُم شُد، این سُخُن را بَرگُشا

Translation:  

Moses said, “My Lord, You suffer no deficiency.
My reason falters—unfold this saying for me.”

Explanation: 

Even after repetition, the mystery remains: how can the Perfect say “I am ill”? Moses acknowledges his bewilderment and asks for disclosure—a key Sufi posture: ʿaql yields to kashf (unveiling).

گُفت: آری، بَندهٔ خاصِّ گُزین

 

گَشت رَنجور، او مَنَم، نیکو بُبین

Translation: 

God said, “Yes—one of My specially chosen servants
Has fallen ill. That servant is Me—look carefully and see.”

Explanation: 

Here the veil lifts: to wound a friend of God is to wound God; to comfort him is to comfort God. The saint is the locus (maẓhar) of divine presence.

هَست مَعذوریش مَعذوریِ مَن

 

هَست رَنجوریش رَنجوریِ مَن

Translation:  

“His feeling weak is My weakness;
His sickness is My sickness.”

Explanation: 

This is radical empathy: God fully identifies with His saint’s state. In Sufi theology, walāyah (sainthood) is a form of divine self-disclosure—honor or neglect of the saint is honor or neglect of God.

 

   

هَر که خواهد هَمنِشینیِ خُدا

 

تا نَشینَد در حُضورِ اَولِیا

Translation: 

“Whoever wishes to sit in the company of God
Must sit in the presence of His friends.”

Explanation: 

The practical conclusion: God’s companionship is accessed through the company of His awliyāʾ. This is an echo of prophetic tradition: “The saints of God are those who, when seen, remind you of God.”

  

از حُضورِ اَولِیا گر بَسکَلی

 

تو هَلاکِی، زانک جُزوی بی‌ کُلِّی

Translation: 

“If you turn away from the presence of the saints,
You are ruined, for you are a part cut off from the Whole.”

Explanation: 

The metaphor of part and whole (juzw/kull) frames spiritual community as an organism: to sever from it is to perish.

هَر که را دیو از کَرِیمان وا بَرَد

 

بی‌کَسَش یابَد، سَرَش را او خُوَرَد

Translation: 
“Whoever the demon draws away from the generous ones
Is left forsaken—and the demon devours his head.”

Explanation: 

Isolation from the spiritually generous leaves the seeker prey to destructive forces (dīv), here imagined with the stark image of head-devouring—total ruin.

 

یَک بَدَست از جَمع رَفتن یَک زَمان

 

مَکرِ دیو است، بَشنَو و نیکو بُدان

Translation: 

“To withdraw even for a moment from the assembly of the devoted—
That is the demon’s trick; hear this and understand well.”

Explanation: 

Rumi ends with a sharp warning: separation from the circle of God’s friends, even briefly, is spiritual danger. The counsel is both mystical (about presence) and practical (about solidarity).

Thematic takeaway

Rumi reframes compassion as a mystical covenant: visiting the sick, aiding the distressed, keeping company with the righteous—all are direct encounters with God. The parable binds theology and ethics: the saint’s body becomes the theater of divine presence, and community with the awliyāʾ becomes the very “company of God.”