Ameer Hamza Khan Shinwari Best Pashto Poetry
HAZRAT AMIR HAMZA SHINWARI BABA
Chishti Nizami Niazi (R. A.)حضرت امیر حمزہ شنواری بابا
چشتی نظامی نیازی
Amir Hamza Khan Shinwari Baba was a leading mystic luminary of the twentieth century, with enormous contribution to pushto and urdu literature, not only in poetry but also in prose and drama. Being the founder of Khyber School of Literature, Hamza Baba is considered a versatile genious and an institution. He has encourged and fostered a large number of budding pushto poets who owe their growth and perfection to his benign care and artistic excellence. And, being at the same time a practising sufi and spiritual guide (MURSHID), he has also trained an equally large number of disciples in the esoteric, spiritual discipline.
…I heard a voice, ‘alasto bir rabikum’ (am I not your Lord?) and I suddenly had a consciousness of my being. It might be said that before this I was in the state of unconsciousness, even if I was there already. And in the reply I said, ‘bala’, (yes Thou Art); and I felt that there was an element of doubt in my voice. While yet in my mother`s womb I was feeling a gradually receding light; and than I felt as if I had a fall from above, with the light finally disappearing from my sight; leaving me the lap of a suffocating darkness. At this I cried and the women gathered around my mother cheerfully proclaimed, “Oh, its a boy,” ….
(Autobiography, Hamza Shinwari)
….All creations exists in or because of God. It is the attributes of God that come across each other to have self conciousness and the sense of externality and this way God minifests Himself. This the reality of the unreality that we call creations; whether we call it the shadow or reality or its mirror, it is realy saying the same thing. God was a hidden treasure and He wanted to minifest Him self. He created this entire universe in this way. Now looking at His creation is actually looking at God, not from the point of view of the universe being the wonderfull handicraft of a master artisan but also because it is still Him or inside Him. We can not imagine a separate God against a separate universe for that will limit His Omnipresence, may also bestow eternity on the universe. There can not be two co-eternal, co-existing at the same time. If God is Omnipotent and Omnipresent than what is the potentiality or even the reality of the universe and where does it exist? We are forced to conclude that it is entirly dependent upon God and can exist only in him. And that is the doctrine of Wahdatul Wajud (the unity of essence)….
(Muktoobat-e-HamzaBaba)
ستا پہ اننګو کې د حمزہ د وینو سره دي
تہ شوې د پښتو غزلہ ځوان زہ دې بابا کړم
(Your cheeks are flushed with the blood of Hamza;You come of age, Pushto Ghazal, But I Become an old Baba)
تمہارے گالوں میں حمزہ کے خون کی سرخی ہے اے پشتو غزل،تم جوان ہوئیں اور مجھے بوڑھا کر دیا
Courtesy: Please visit: http://www.hamzababa.faithweb.com/
BABA-E-GHAZAL (Loosly translated)
Your cheeks are flushed with the blood of Hamza;
You come of age, Pushto Ghazal,
But I Become an old Baba.
A bubble, like an eye in your search,
I am drifting in the sea of your love.
O love you are self centered while I am a pakhtoon,
I have never taught begging to my eyes.
Do not touch the blister on my Pakhtoon heart, Lest the beautiful tent of Laila is broken.
The sun of your face has blinded me
Spred your dark tresses so light comes again to my eyes.
Please God increase ten times the beauty of Laila of Pashtoo ,
And than also increase my love ten times more than Majnoons
I wonder at your simplicity, dear, My poetry is but considered a puzzle
Watch carefully, life was a point in the begnning,
Up and down, entire universe was its circle
Neither have I wandered out side my self,
Nor have I gone any where, nor come back
My dreams are thristy of water of interpretation,
Only those having really no wings find the river difficult to cross
The pan of the sun went up to the sky,
When I wished to weigh your beauty with the sun
I have not yet shown on the horizon of Pakhtoonkhwa,
I am that universal sun which has not yet arisen You are the book of existence,
I am its text;
All these other things are but the margin of this book
You have not understood the truth of Wajud,
when still searching for space in the universe
The adversary call it a language of hell but to heaven
I shall go with Pashto Until I bring them all to one centre,
I shall go with jargas to every tribe I thought this sleeping nation would wake up with my calls,
It seems I have been calling a sleepy people in dream An indivisual, like a drop,
Can neither wet nor irrigate;
Only with plentiful rain
Does the parched earth vegitate
