The latest Tweets from Baki Gazel (@gzlgzlgzlgzl1). BAKİ İLETİŞİM ELEKTRONİK. Baki als Ghazeldichter, Sbirka Pojednani a Rozprav IX (Prague, Nakladem . The following analysis of one gazel from the divdn of Baki, perhaps the best-. People have often doubted the sincerity of Baki’s sentiments and he was caught out Some were authors of gazel and kaside, others of rubai, but all of them.

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She’d made the pool a casket for her frame fair, And all about that casket spread her dark hair. Thy cheek’s sun-love hath on the hard, hard hearts of fairy beauties fall’n, And many a steely-eyed one hath received thy bright reflection fair.

O bird most holy! Let not opportunity slip by, silent there; Unto us the beauty of each word declare. On tablet of his life graved, shown was Shirin; Of all else emptied, filled alone with Shirin. Or strange is’t if thine eyelash conquer all the stony-hearted ones? From the pleasure, joy, and rapture of this hour, In its frame to hold its soul earth scarce hath power. A sample of hazelleri tears of blood thou, Handkerchief, wilt show, Through these within a moment would a thousand crimson grow; Thou’lt be in company with her, while I am sad with grief; To me no longer life may be, if things continue so.

Move thou thy lips, make play the ripples light of Kevser’s pool! Saw it thy wrath, through dread of thee would trembling seize the pine; The falling stars a chain around the heaven’s neck would lay. Amazon Restaurants Food delivery from local restaurants.

Creation’s Pen the lines of billows of events hath traced; Th’ illumined scroll of the Two Worlds, Creation’s Pencil graced; Their garments upon earth and sky, Creation’s gazellri hath placed; Men’s forms are pictures in Creation’s great Shah-Nama traced.

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Lord who liv’st for aye! Tables seventy, fraught with bounties, he in every house hath placed, And on every tray hath spread out seventy sorts of varied fare.


Circling and soaring, he went on his journey, From the land of his exile to Home back again. Beside thy justice, tyranny’s the code of Rey-Qubad; Beside thy wrath, but mildness Qahraman’s most deadly fray. What garden, most bako, is this parterre? Through yearning gazzelleri thee let the rose its ear lay on the path, And, narcisse-like, till the last day the watchman’s calling ply!

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Write a customer review. I can not make the morning eve, or the dark night the day; I can not turn the air to fire, or dust to water’s spray; I can not bid the Sphere stand still, or mountain region stray; I can not Autumn turn by will of mine to lovely May. That a happy star, indeed, the essence clear of whose bright self Truly knoweth how the blessings from thy word that flow to prize.

Those who it view, and ponder well with thought’s eye, It’s strange, if they be rmazed and wildered thereby? Faithful and kind a friend I hoped that thou wouldst prove to me; Who would have thought so cruel and fierce a tyrant in thee to see? O thou Perfect Being, Source whence wisdom’s mysteries arise; Things, the issue of thine essence, show wherein thy nature lies.

The wayward courser, cruel Fate, was wild and fierce of pace, And fell to earth the Shade of God the Lord’s benignant Grace. In burning notes make thou thy tuneful song rise; These iron hearts soft render with thy sad sighs. All the universe, one mighty sign, is shown; God hath myriads of creative acts unknown: O Thou King of Perfect Gazellleri Thrust it its beak into the Sphere, ‘twould seize it as a grain, The ‘anqa strong, thy power, to which ’twere but a seed-like prey.

The gazeleri of thy kindliness recalling, tulip-like, Within the Tartar musk-deer’s heart let fire of anguish lie! Thou hast brought on Islam’s army direful ruin with thy bribes; Have we not heard how thou say’st, “Word of this foul blight, is there none?


Then, since words to utter thee so well doth suit, Gazellegi were it surely if thy tongue were mute. Is there yet a country tazelleri we may wend, Where as yet our mighty sway doth not extend, That we may it conquer, conquer it outright? O sad heart, come, distraction’s hour is now high, The air’s cool, ‘midst the elds to sit the time nigh.

O Thou Perfectness of Potence! The Loves of Shirin. From Leyli And Mejnun.

With my sword I’ve conquered many and many a shore; Still Gazellwri sigh right sorely: The moon yet beameth through the hair, the dark night, With tresses how could be concealed the sun bright?

Prince dread as Doom, and strong as Fate, and bounteous as main! Rather to the golden chain, which hangs thy cheek round, me compare: Let the whole world attire itself in robes of princely woe!


Gazellri I thy lip to suck, ‘twould heal the sick heart; Be baii, an answer give, Physician mine, then. My prayer is ever, “May the babes, his tears, go ‘neath the sod, Or old or young be he who weeps not thee in sad dismay.

That the bird from bow and arrow flees not, well may all astound. The gilded leaves in showers falling to earth gleam; With goldfish filled doth glisten brightly each stream. Of the Baji Climes, Muradi, King of high might, is there none? With counsel many have tried me to guide right; Many with wisdom gifted have advice shown, But yet this fiend hath been by no one o’erthrown; Much gold has on the earth been strewn round, But yet this Stone of Alchemist by none’s found.

Beside thy lip oped wide its mouth, the rosebud; For shame it blushed, it blood outright resembles.