Rukhsat Ae Bazm-e-Jahan

Farewell, O World's Assembly

Farewell, O World's Assembly, to my true home I go, In this teeming desolation, my spirit sinks so low.

My heart is melancholic, for your crowds I am not made, You are not fit for me, nor I for your parade.

The Sultan's court, the Vizier's hall, are but a gilded cage, The one bound by a golden chain will break free from this stage.

Though great delight is in the noise and stir you make, A stranger's chill I feel for your acquaintance' sake.

For ages with your vain elite I sat and passed the day, For ages like a restless wave I tossed upon my way.

For ages in your halls of mirth I sat among the throng, And searched for light within the dark where I did not belong.

For ages I have sought a rose where only thorns abound, Alas, in your bazaar that precious Yusuf was not found.

My weary eyes now search to find a different kind of sight, A storm-tossed soul, I long to see the shore's consoling light.

Like fragrance from your garden, I now softly float and blow, Farewell, O World's Assembly, to my true home I go.

My home is in the silence of the mountain's gentle fold, A joy the music of mere speech could never hope to hold.

I sit with the dark-eyed Nargis, and the rose is my good friend, This garden is my home, where songs of Bulbul never end.

At dusk, the sound of flowing springs will lull me into sleep, At dawn, the cuckoo calls me from the meadows, green and deep.

While all in Being's gathering find company a grace, The poet's heart desires to find a solitude's embrace.

Is it a madness that I flee from where the people throng? For whom do I now search these mountain valleys all along?

What is this yearning that through meadows green now makes me roam, And by the streamside lulls me, far from my old worldly home?

You taunt that I am lost to lonely solitude's design, But look, O fool! I bear a word from Nature's court divine.

With the tall Shamshad I belong, to Qumri I am bound, And in this garden's silence, I am listening for a sound.

And what I hear, I hear so that to others I may tell, And what I see, I see to show to other souls as well.

My heart loves solitude, and on my humble home I stand, And laugh upon the thrones of Dara and Iskandar.

To lie beneath a tree holds a bewitching, magic art, While gazing at the evening star that flickers far apart.

In knowledge's house of wonders, this truth is never shown, The secret of all Being in a petal's form is known.