Moments in Time – Views on Life
Sometimes in life, we have dreams.
Some can be achieved if we work really hard,
pray from our hearts,
and are fortunate enough to have just that extra bit of fate on our side.
Some are so big, we know they’ll always be outside our reach.
Yet we hope, and we pray.
And we carry them inside us, safeguarding them as the years pass by.
Sometimes in life dreams come true.
It may not be the ones we expected,
or knew even existed.
We find ourselves on top of a mountain we never climbed.
Why am I lonely among so many people?
Why am I in darkness among all these lights?
Why do I feel empty when my heart is full?
Why do I feel far from home when I live right here?
Why are you still upset when you know I never meant to hurt you?
Why do I write sad things when they make my heart unconsolable?
Why does time pass so quickly when there is so little left?
Why am I still waiting when there is nothing left to wait for?
When he sulked, time sulked, the whole universe sulked
What can I say, I have no words, this parting has beaten me down
Maybe he forgot my memories, but who can forget him?
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
How do I console my heart, I can’t bear the loneliness
This is what I got in return for love, the world is laughing at me
Without him, the emptiness of the courtyard takes a bite out of me
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
If my lord returns home, I will celebrate a hundred times
Holding him in a tight embrace, I will hide him beneath my eyelids
The wise have told the truth, no one should ever fall in love
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
Original in Urdu by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
It seems like yesterday I had you cradled in the crook of my elbow. And look at you now! Although there was never a time when you and I couldn’t understand each other, something changed tonight. For both of us. Tonight you seem more mature, and as full of life as ever. Tonight, to me, you seem all grown up. Somehow, losing those teeth just made our conversations all grown up too.
There’s something wonderfully fascinating about trees that draws me in. And keeps me there.
Something mysterious, yet oddly familiar.
Their immobility, but through the will of nature’s elements.
Their submissiveness and flexibility, yet strong rooted resolve.
Their self-sacrificing nature, always sheltering, shading, protecting.
Their power of renewal, through a never-ending cycle of the seasons.
Their beauty, as full and diverse as nature itself.
And colors, ranging from the deepest blues to the highest yellows.
It is in the autumn, at the bottom of another rhythm, that they seduce me most.
A tango between light and hue, a dazzling spectacle to behold.
Capturing my soul, and not letting go.
There are stories yet to be told.
Last Sunday we set the clock back one hour. The end of daylight savings time is a sure sign of the arrival of autumn. Even though there is still the occasional day where the sun feels warm on my skin, the chill has definitely arrived. The days are getting cold. The nights colder.
But it is the darkness I dread.
There are remedies for cold and wet. But none for the darkness that seems to escape its prison deep in the confines of my heart, and spread out, threatening to extend the night indefinitely. Suddenly all about me, I see the shadow that I carry locked away inside me. And I feel it within and without.
And all the lights, become mere ephemeral spots of joy in the gloom. My Sunday blues, it seems, just got darker.
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
My dearest lives far away, would someone bring him back?
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
My heart’s desire is not with me, with whom shall I talk?
To me, nobody is like him, to whom shall I open my heart?
I keep begging but I am powerless
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
I keep going to the roof awaiting his return
If the one who left ever peeked into my sighs
he would not have left alone, who can reason with him?
My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
Original in Urdu by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
No seer eg atter slike Fjøll og Dalar,
som deim eg i min fyrste Ungdom saag,
og sama Vind den heite Panna ‘svalar;
og Gullet ligg paa Snjo, som fyrr det laag.
Det er eit Barnemaal, som til meg talar,
og gjer’ meg tankefull, men endaa fjaag
Med Ungdomsminni er den Tala blandad:
Det strøymer paa meg, so eg knapt kan anda.
Ja, Livet strøymer paa meg, som det strøymde,
naar under Snjo eg saag det grøne Straa.
Eg drøymer no, som fyrr eg altid drøymde,
naar slike Fjøll eg saag i Lufti blaa.
Eg gløymer Dagsens Strid, som fyrr eg gløymde,
naar eg mot Kveld af Sol eit Glimt fekk sjaa.
Eg finner vel eit Hus, som vil meg hysa,
naar Soli heim mot Notti vil meg lysa.
Alt er som fyrr, men det er meir forklaarat,
so Dagsens Ljos meg synest meire bjart.
Og det, som beit og skar meg, so det saarat,
det gjerer sjølve Skuggen mindre svart;
sjølv det, som til at synda tidt meg daarat,
sjølv det gjer’ harde Fjøllet mindre hardt.
Forsonad’ koma atter gamle Tankar:
det sama Hjarta er, som eldre bankar.
Og kver ein Stein eg som ein Kjenning finner,
for slik var den, eg flaug ikring som Gut.
Som det var Kjæmpur spyr eg, kven som vinner
af den og denne andre haage Nut.
Alt minner meg; det minner, og det minner,
til Soli ned i Snjoen sloknar ut.
Og inn i siste Svevn meg eigong huggar
dei gamle Minni og dei gamle Skuggar.
Written by Aasmund Olavsson Vinje in 1860
I was the tree.
Alone but strong,
I thought I would always be.
But none may defy
nature’s law of ageing and decay,
through the dance of time passing by.
The universe’s way of communication.
The constant increase of entropy,
towards the inevitable end-station.
All those promises, all those dreams.
Made only to be broken,
tearing life at its seams.
You read and read and master knowledge.
But you never read your inner self.
You run to enter temple and mosque.
But you never entered your heart.
Every day you fight the devil.
But you never fought your own desire.
Bulleh Shah, don’t reach to grab what’s in the sky.
When you havn’t even managed to grab what’s inside your own soul.