Kashmiripedia

Bulbul, the householder, sees the flower, His guest, arrive when day dawns, and depart At dusk. He waits for the end of it all.

The gardener always prunes those trees Who start growing out of size. Thus watch your thoughts at every step !

The succession of day and night, is the architect of events. The succession of day and night, is the fountain‐head of life and death.

Allama Iqbal Library-University of Kashmir, Hazratbal, Srinagar, Jammu and Kashmir

See, spring has come To Dal, Nishat and Shalamar, O, use these my aching eyes as boats ! Come rowing across !

I'm bathed in sweat, with strength ebbed out, Following my love over hill and dale. Why can't he halt and hear my prayer ?

The Dal has supernal beauty with the lotus in bloom; I'll moor by boat at Zeethyar; appear to me at Gopakar!

Icon of adoration towards Prophet (Saw) - The poor mans Haj

here you find peace and tranquillity even though here is neither luxurious interior nor decorative externals -

The early spring has come again And camped on mountain heights, And tulips blow in Shalamar. A garden is our land!

Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable... Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals. by Martin Luther King,

Looking at the garden from this height, I feel lost, seeing departing caravans Of flowers slowly on the move.

I roamed in many a market, And asked all the merchants If love was on display and any such an article on sale

What does it mean, you being attired In red robes from top to toe ? Does it signify innocent blood ?

I would gaze long at the path you took But they are watching my eyes. I hear they're going to put a watch Soon over my beating heart.

Both love and torment flow from you - You are both the wound and the balm.

My mind, like one roaming in the desolation Of forests, mountains and appalling wastes, Suffered an agony I cannot describe.

My beloved may be with his friends In shalamar, showering his radiance On lawns and waterfalls

Flowering plant in the woodland of freedom, Who filled your buds with fragrance? Whose brush painted you in gorgeous rainbow colours?

Let the immanent soul dwell in you Like light in a jewel, so that all barriers Are removed that separate you from God.

Like a cedar in the forest, enjoying The river bank's pubescent green. Cut it not down, O stern woodman !

In bondage, they served you ample food. Now gather in the fields what grain you can, And see how sweet is food in freedom!

When you entered the garden - O what coy grace! - What did the flowers whisper to you? You've robbed the bulbuls of their speech.