Fusion Poetry

Every sect has a faith, a direction (Qibla) to which they turn,
I have turned my face towards the crooked cap (of Nizamuddin Aulia)
The whole world worships something or the other,
Some look for God in Mecca, while some go to Kashi (Banaras),
So why can't I, Oh wise people, fall at my beloved's feet?

Every sect has a faith, a Qibla...
I have become you, and you me,
I am the body, you soul;
So that no one can say hereafter,
That you are someone, and I, someone else.

I am a pagan and a worshipper of love: the creed (of Muslims) I do not need;
Every vein of mine has become taunt like a wire,
the (Brahman's) girdle I do not need.
Leave from my bedside, you ignorant physician!
The only cure for the patient of love is the sight of his beloved —
other than this no medicine does he need.

If there be no pilot in our boat, let there be none:
We have god in our midst: the sea we do not need.
The people of the world say that Khusrau worships idols.
So he does, so he does; the people he does not need, the world he does not need.

The cloud weeps, and I become separated from my friend —
How can I separate my heart from my heart's friend on such a day.
The cloud weeping — and I and the friend standing, bidding farewell —
I weeping separately, the clouds separately, the friend separately...

-- Selections from the poetry of Amir Khusrau