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Translated from the Persian by Homa Mojadidi



The Names Veiled the Named [Ghazal 38]  


The wave covered the ocean’s face 

The names veiled the named 


It can’t fly without the wings of its name 

No one has seen the Anqa’s nest 


The purity of Yusuf’s beauty 

Tore apart Zuleikha’s self-restraint 


Every dawn the sun wears clumps of cotton 

To make the heart’s wounds manifest 


The path has opened its arms in every direction 

It has torn open the desert’s collar 


The eyes’ wetness couldn’t extinguish the heart’s fire 

Clouds can’t calm the ocean’s turmoil  


Awareness makes us silent, like a mirror  

Seals the lips of our talking tongue 


Silence is the lock that guards the treasure 

Ask the pearl the key to this riddle 


Bedil, if you’re aware of certainty’s mystery 

Abandon this tale of I and us 




Anqa: A mythical bird from ancient Arabic mythology, symbolizing rarity and elusiveness, mystical truths, and annihilation of the self.



Peace Reigns in Silence [Ghazal 17] 


Peace reigns in silence    there’s no conflict here 

Become a closed bud       hold calm’s hem within your grasp 


Close your eyes    if you wish to behold visions 

Here, the mirror’s purity    is draped in rust 


It’s your misfortune if    your heart doesn’t open up a path     

The mirror’s house    isn’t too narrow for anyone here 


The bird of joy    lives in bewilderment’s cage 

Don’t hurry past this image-garden     so full of colors here 


Desiring wholeness on love’s path is a mistake 

Even if the world turns to stone     we grasp a piece of glass in our hand 


Fling this swirling goblet far    it’s merely an empty cup 

Our intoxication here     is the resonance of its sound 


The heart’s desire follows      the caravan of fleeing senses 

Here, the traveler’s steps      are the changing of colors 


Don’t ask of the cruelties of fate 

Every glance—a quiver of arrows     aimed at the lover’s heart 


Beware of the blood-filled glance 

When the mirror turns to tears    it becomes a shark’s mouth 


How do you hope to become sober     never having laid down the glass? 

The hem of the pari’s grace     is caught beneath the stone here 


The two worlds contain    the pain of leaving the self behind 

Hearts beat    to a constricted rhyme here 


Pleasure’s destiny    lies outside bewilderment’s realm  

The flowers’ shadows    have turned the meadow into a leopard’s back 


True fear is to leave the self behind    without ever having arrived

So long as desire for haste remains    there are only delays here 






The mirror, symbol of truth, divine manifestation, or universal being, is open to all faces. If you find yourself excluded, the fault lies not with the mirror’s narrowness but with your own heart’s constriction. 

The tear is often a symbol of sincerity and devotion, but Bedil subverts the tear/mirror image into a shark’s mouth, symbolizing annihilation and the danger of being consumed. 

Pari, literally means fairy, a supernatural being from Persian mythology who is delicate, beautiful, ethereal, associated with enchantment, and believed to reside within a glass bottle.





Wings of Desire [Ghazal 32]


 Your colorful lines have twined around hearts 

The flowers’ veins    thread our gathering together 


Your graceful gait gave me wings of desire    I flew towards bewilderment    

Like the dove     my eye holds the rim of the cypress-like glass


Closing my eyes    turned my gaze into imagination’s lamp      

Even effacing the self    failed to rid the lover of the desire to see the beloved 


I can’t find a secure corner in this gathering 

Like the candle    my footprints become my collar 


I lack a handful of soil to build self-restraint  

This mad love spread the desert’s hem upon my ruins   


Except for nonbeing    there’s no image on nonexistence’s tablet

If you don’t want to show us a glimpse     make us your mirror 


My present state doesn’t fear the future 

I lost in the past’s embrace my today and tomorrow 


This turmoil isn’t caused by the wind’s waves 

Someone’s feverish frenzy makes the ocean’s pulse dance 


What flowers, besides withering     can silence scatter in your lap? 

If you’ve been set free     mend your limbs with your groans  


Why claim permanence in existence’s fleeting moment? 

Like a reflection      assume your place outside the mirror’s house 


A scar is the flame’s gift.    If you desire peace 

don’t trade your prostrating forehead for a hundred necks 


Bedil, no traces remain here except names      as long as you exist 

you’re of this world     now, count the patterns on the phoenix’s wings




The Heart’s Breaking [Ghazal 119]


Ease doesn’t offer my mind any freshness 

Only the heart’s breaking can fill my cup 


The night that my eyes will brighten with seeing you 

Bewilderment will light my candle’s wick 


I have such a wine from despair’s searing lightning bolt  

Even the flame won’t kiss my cup’s lip 


The wine’s pleasure was in being enclosed in the flask 

Blooming made my whole garden split open with desire  


The crapulence of heaven’s glass shows in its turning upside down 

How can it cure my mind’s heaviness? 


How long will negligence peak from the furrows on your forehead? 

Don’t turn my corner of rest into a breeding ground for intrigue A 


thousand colors bloomed from my dark fate 

The world bestowed my crow with the peacock’s colors  


Like the kohl’s wave, I hide in enchanting eyes 

Seek my trace from the loop of the gazelle’s flight 


Don’t seek coldness from my heart. Since my origin 

they cut with the flame’s blade my umbilical cord 


Perhaps Bedil’s heart’s been emptied of groans 

Silence is the lesson disclosed by my garden’s nightingale






Mirza Abdul Qadir Bedil was a 17th Century Sufi poet born in Patna, India, in 1642. Bedil’s poetry is considered one of the most challenging to decipher and interpret, given his complex syntax, literary allusions and conundrums, and unique compound words and innovative expressions. Despite being a literary giant in the Persian speaking world, Bedil is virtually unknown to the Western world, and not well-known even in his native India because his work remains largely untranslated into English. In addition to his collection of ghazals and quatrains—Kulliyat-e-Bedil (The Collected Works of Bedil), Bedil’s work includes his four masnavis— Muhit-e Azam (The Greatest Ocean), Tilismi Hairat (The Talisman of Wonder), Tur-e-Marifat (The Mount of Knowledge), and Irfan, his autobiographical prose work Char Ansur (The Four Elements).


Homa Mojadidi is an Afghan American poet and translator. Her poetry manuscript, In Search of the Traceless, is forthcoming from 3: A Taos Press. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Asymptote, Washington Square Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Northwest Review, West Trade Review, Gulf Stream, Sonora Review, South Carolina Review, Mudlark, Blue Mountain Review, One Art, and Calyx. Her work explores themes of loss, exile, memory, and mysticism. Homa holds an M.A. in English Literature from the University of North Florida and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing, with a concentration in poetry, from George Mason University.

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