Kalaam/Poetry ,ﺍﺭﺩﻭ urdu
Mere Rashke-e-Qamar is a beautiful Punjabi Love song of Nusrat Sahib, similar to Yeh Jo Halka Halka Suroor Hai. It is a Qawwali style with minimal music of harmonium, clapping and tabla, backed by Nusrat Sahib’s amazing voice of course.
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Mere Rashke Qamar, Tu Ne Pehli Nazar Jab Nazar Se Milai Mazaa Agaya
Barq Se Gitt Gai, Kaam Kar Gai, Aag Aisi Ligai Maza Agaya
Jaam Mai Ghol Kar Husn Ki Mastiaan, Chandani Muskarai, Mazaa Agaya
Chaand Ke Sayay Main, Ae Mere Saaqiya, Tu Nai Aisi Pilai Mazaa Agaya
Nusha Sheeshay Main Angraaee Lenay Laga, Bazme Rindaan Main Saagher Khanakne Lagey
Maikaday Pe Barasne Lageen Mastiyan, Jab Ghatta Ghirr Ke Chaaee Mazza Aa Gayaa
Behajabana Woh Saamney Aa Gae, Aur Jawani Jawani Se Takra Gaee
Ankh Un Ki Lari Yoon Meri Ankh Se, Daikh Kar Ye Laraaee Mazza Aa Gaya
Ankh Main Thee Hayya Har Mulaqaat Par, Surkh Aariz Hui Wasll Ki Baat Par
Uss Ne Sharmaa Ke Merey Sawaalaat Pe, Aise Gurdan Jhukaaee Mazza Aa Gaya
Shaikh Sahib Ka Eeman Mitt He Gaya, Dekh Kar Husnn-E-Saaqi Pighal Hi Gaya
Aaj Se Pehley Ye Kitney Maghroor Thay, Lutt Gaee Parsaaee Mazza Aa Gaya
Ae Fanna Shukar Hai Aaj Baad-E-Fana, Uss Ne Rakhlee Mere Pyaar Ki Aabroo
Apney Hathon Se Uss Ne Meri Qabar Par, Chaadar E Gul Charhaaee Mazza Aa Gaya
O’ my love who is envied by Moon, what a joy it was when your eyes met mine
Lightning bolts fell on me; what a joy when you ignited a fire in my that I
In the wincup, the moonlight blended ecstasy into beauty, and then smiled, how joyful.
Under moon’s shadow, my cup-bearer, you made me ecstatic with your drink
Wincups start clinking in the gathering of hedonists, intoxication awakes in bottle
Ecstasy descends on Tavern, when dark clouds poured, what happiness.
When she came unveiled, and her youthful beauty was revealed against mine.
When the beloved eyes met mine, what joyful was the clash of our eyes.
In every meeting, she has grace in her eyes, our meeting talks made her cheeks blushed.
Embarrassed by my questions, she lowered her head in such grace, what a joy
Shaikh [Moolah]’s faith is gone, it melted when glanced as the beauty of wine bearer.
Before now, how arrogant [Shaykh] was, what a joy that now all his piety is gone
O’ Fana, thanks that after my death, she kept honour of my love
On my grave, she placed sheet of flowers with her own hand, what a joy!