Dila Par Kalima Hardam

Kalām: Ahad Zargar

This is one of those Kashmiri Sufi poems where the form itself becomes dhikr. Almost every line begins with "Chhu kalmay…" — The Kalima is… — until the poem begins to sound like the turning of a rosary. The poet is not merely praising the Kalima as a formula on the tongue. He is showing how the Kalima becomes the centre of being: earth and sky, day and night, colour and colourlessness, breath and eye, love and union, Ka‘ba and idol-house, captive and faqir, guide and light.

The refrain "lolo" carries the tenderness of Kashmiri mystical song. It is not filler. It is the cry of the lover: O beloved.

A small textual note: I would read this kalām as Ahad Zargar's. The closing line names him clearly: "Chhu kalmay Ahad Zargar." The line sometimes mistaken as a reference to "Tral Faqir" is better read as "ḍhāl faqīras" — the shield or support, branch, or staff of the faqir. The poem signs itself.

The Kalām

Farsi / Kashmiri Script	English Transcription	Modern Smooth English Translation
دِلا پر کلمہٕ ہر دم، چُھکھے بیدار لو لو	Dilā par kalimah hardam, chhukhay bīdār lo lo	O heart, recite the Kalima at every breath; stay awake, O beloved.
سِلاح کلمی چُھ کلمی، رِندن ہُند کار لو لو	Silāh kalmay chhu kalmay, rindan hund kār lo lo	The Kalima is the weapon; the Kalima is the work of the love-intoxicated ones, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی ارض و افلاک، چُھ کلمی شاہِ لولاک	Chhu kalmay arz-o-aflāk, chhu kalmay Shāh-e-Lawlāka	The Kalima is earth and the celestial spheres; the Kalima is the Shah-e-Lawlak (Breath or King of Lawlak see end of this post).
چُھ کلمی من کران پاک، چھلان زنگار لو لو	Chhu kalmay man karān pāk, chhalān zangār lo lo	The Kalima purifies the heart-mind; it scrubs away the rust, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی ذات و صفات، چُھ کلمی دوہ تہٕ بییہِ رات	Chhu kalmay zāt-o-sifāt, chhu kalmay doh tah beyih rāth	The Kalima is Essence and Attributes; the Kalima is day and again the night.
چُھ کلمی ساعت بر ساعت، گرزان اذکار لو لو	Chhu kalmay sā‘at bar sā‘at, grazān adhkār lo lo	The Kalima is hour after hour; remembrance keeps resounding, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی نقش بر سنگ، چُھ کلمی رنگ تہٕ بیرنگ	Chhu kalmay naqsh bar sang, chhu kalmay rang tah bē-rang	The Kalima is an inscription on stone; the Kalima is colour and colourlessness.
چُھ کلمی ساز سارنگ، پران سیتارٕ لو لو	Chhu kalmay sāz sārang, parān sitār lo lo	The Kalima is instrument and melody; the sitar itself recites it, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی ہیتھ یہِ آدم، چُھ کلمی زیر تہٕ بم	Chhu kalmay hyeth yih Ādam, chhu kalmay zēr tai bam	The Kalima has taken this human form; the Kalima is the low note and the high note.
چُھ کلمی عین با دم، وُچھان دیدار لو لو	Chhu kalmay ‘ayn ba-dam, wuchhān dīdār lo lo	The Kalima is in the seeing eye and in the breath; through it one beholds the Beloved, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی فرش کوی راج، چُھ کلمی عرش کوی تاج	Chhu kalmay farsh kuy raj, chhu kalmay ‘arsh kuy tāj	The Kalima is the rule below; the Kalima is the crown of the Throne above.
چُھ کلمی وصل معراج، گنجِ اسرار لو لو	Chhu kalmay wasl mi‘rāj, ganj-e-asrār lo lo	The Kalima is union and ascent; it is the treasure of secrets, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی عشقِ کامل، چُھ کلمی ہر دِلکُ دِل	Chhu kalmay ‘ishq-e-kāmil, chhu kalmay har dilukh dil	The Kalima is perfect love; the Kalima is the heart within every heart.
چُھ کلمی عاشقن کُیِل، پھَلِتھ گُلزار لو لو	Chhu kalmay ‘āshiqan kuil, pholith gulzār lo lo	The Kalima is the lovers tree; the garden has borne fruit, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی کلمہ اعلا، چُھ کلمی کلمہ بالا	Chhu kalmay kalmah a‘lā, chhu kalmay kalmah bālā	The Kalima is the highest Kalima; the Kalima is the lifted, exalted Kalima.
چُھ کلمی لا مثالا، اَلا عیار لو لو	Chhu kalmay lā-mithālā, alā ‘ayyār lo lo	The Kalima is without likeness; it is of the purest assay, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی سَرہ کَرٕنوی، چُھ کلمی زِندٕ مَرٕنوی	Chhu kalmay sarra karnui, chhu kalmay zindah marnui	The Kalima means to sacrifice yourself (your ego and nafs); the Kalima means to die while alive.
چُھ کلمی تارٕ ترٕ نوی، چشمِ تروار لو لو	Chhu kalmay tāra tar navī, sum-i tarwār lo lo	The Kalima is crossing the crossing; over the sword-bridge, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی کعبہٕ بُتخان، چُھ کلمی کُفر و اِیمان	Chhu kalmay Ka‘bah but-khān, chhu kalmay kufr-o-īmān	The Kalima is Ka‘ba and idol-house; the Kalima is disbelief and faith.
چُھ کلمی کٔرِتھ یکسان، بہٕ کیاہ بیون ژارٕ لو لو	Chhu kalmay karith yaksān, bah kyāh biyun zhār lo lo	The Kalima has made them one; what other thing should I search for, O beloved?
چُھ کلمی نالٕ اسیٖرس، چُھ کلمی ڈأل فقیٖرس	Chhu kalmay nāl asīras, chhu kalmay ḍhāl faqīras	The Kalima is the alongside the captive; the Kalima is the shield or support of the faqir.
چُھ کلمی چال سیٖرس، کران مِلٕ ژار لو لو	Chhu kalmay chāl sīras, karān milah zhār lo lo	The Kalima is the way of the secret; it draws the seeker toward meeting, O beloved.
چُھ کلمی احد زرگر، چُھ کلمی گٔنڈِتھ زیور	Chhu kalmay Ahad Zargar, chhu kalmay gaṇḍith zewar	Ahad Zargar (it is also a pun on the meaning of the name Zargar as goldsmith) is adorned by the Kalima; the Kalima has tied on the jewel.
چُھ کلمی گاش رہبر، برِ دربار لو لو	Chhu kalmay gāsh rahbar, bar-e-darbār lo lo	The Kalima is the guiding light at the threshold of the Divine Court, O beloved.

Where the Meaning is Not Obvious

"Dilā par kalmah hardam" — O heart, recite the Kalima always. The poem begins not with the tongue but with the heart. Ahad Zargar is not satisfied with outer recitation alone. The heart itself must become awake. Bīdār is the key. A sleeping heart may repeat sacred syllables; an awakened heart hears the Kalima in everything.

"Silāh" — the weapon. This is not the weapon of violence. It is the weapon against forgetfulness, pride, heedlessness, and the nafs. The Kalima cuts the false self and protects the inward life of the seeker.

"Rind" — the love-intoxicated one. In ordinary speech, rind can sound like a drunkard. In Sufi poetry it means the one drunk on divine love, free from empty display. The line says: the Kalima is the true work of those who have tasted love.

"Shāh-e-Lawlak." This is a devotional title for the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Rekhta glosses Shah-e-Laulak as a figurative name for the Prophet Muhammad (see the Rekhta Dictionary entry). In this poem, the Kalima is tied to the Muhammadan light: creation, mercy, and recognition of the Real all gather around that blessed name.

"Chhalān zangār" — scrubbing away rust. The rust is the dullness that settles on the heart through heedlessness and wrong action. Qur'an 83:14 speaks of hearts being stained by what people do; Ahad Zargar turns that Qur'anic image into Kashmiri Sufi song. The Kalima is the polish. It makes the heart a mirror again.

"Zāt-o-sifāt" — Essence and Attributes. This is the language of tawḥīd. The Divine Essence is hidden beyond grasp, while the Attributes are the ways the One becomes known: mercy, power, beauty, hearing, seeing. Ahad Zargar says the Kalima points to both — the Hidden and the manifest.

"Rang tah bē-rang" — colour and colourlessness. This is one of the loveliest Sufi paradoxes. The Real appears in colour: forms, faces, flowers, music, breath. Yet the Real is also beyond colour, beyond form, beyond every container. Qur'an 42:11 says, "There is nothing like Him," and this line sings the same truth in Kashmiri.

"Sāz, sārang, sitār." The music imagery is not accidental. In the awakened state, creation itself becomes dhikr. The instrument plays, the note rises and falls, and the seeker hears the Kalima underneath the sound. This is why the poem moves naturally from instruments to zēr tah bam — low note and high note.

"Hīth yih Ādam" — it has taken this human form. The human being is not treated as a mere body here. Adam becomes the instrument through which the Kalima breathes, sees, remembers, and beholds. The body is not rejected; it is refined.

"Farsh" and "‘Arsh." Farsh is the floor below; ‘Arsh is the Throne above. The Kalima stretches from the snow-covered ground to the crown of the Throne. Nothing is outside its circle.

"Wasl mi‘rāj" — union and ascent. Mi‘rāj recalls the Prophet's Night Journey and ascent, mentioned in Qur'an 17:1. Sufi poets often bring this outer sacred history into the inward life of the seeker. The Kalima becomes the ladder: not escape from the world, but ascent through remembrance.

"Lā-mithālā" — without likeness. This echoes the Qur'anic truth that nothing resembles the Divine. Yet Ahad Zargar immediately uses the language of ‘ayyār, assay or purity. This is a goldsmith's image, and it matters because the poet is Zargar — the goldsmith. The Kalima is the fire that tests the metal of the soul.

"Sidrah." I read the blurred word here as Sidrah, referring to the Sidrat al-Muntahā, the Lote-Tree at the furthest boundary. The line suggests that the Kalima renews even the highest point of spiritual vision. It makes the old new again.

"Ka‘ba and but-khān." This is the boldest turn in the poem. It should not be read carelessly. Ahad Zargar is not saying that worship and falsehood are the same in ordinary religious life. He is speaking from the station of tawḥīd, where the seeker sees that all apparent oppositions are swallowed by the One. The next line makes the meaning clear: karith yaksān — it has made them one.

"Kufr-o-īmān." Again, this is not a legal statement. It is a mystical shock-line. The poet is saying that the Kalima is deeper than the labels by which we divide people and things. At the height of recognition, the seeker does not become careless; he becomes more humble, because he sees how little the mind can hold.

"Nālah asīras" — the cry of the captive. The Kalima is not only for saints in ecstasy. It is also the cry of the bound person, the prisoner, the helpless one. This is why the next half-line says it is the support of the faqir. The faqir owns nothing, but the Kalima becomes his staff.

The closing signature. "Chhu kalmay Ahad Zargar." Ahad Zargar does not end by praising himself. He places himself inside the Kalima. Then he gives the goldsmith image since his family name, Zargar means goldsmith: gaṇḍith zewar — tied with an ornament. The true ornament is not gold. It is remembrance. The last line is pure humility: the Kalima is the guiding light, and the seeker stands at the threshold of the Divine Court.

You can listen to a common variant here:

Ha Sher Sawaro

Kalām: Abdul Wahab Khar Sahib · Performed by: Ab. Rashid Hafiz

Wahab Khar Sahib (d. circa 1912) is among the most loved of Kashmir's later Sufi poets, a humble cauldron-maker by trade whose verses carry the fire of his craft. His kalām is full of plain Kashmiri tongue welded to deep mystical content, and Hā Sher Sawāro is among his most striking pieces — a vision-poem in which the seeker confronts an awe-inspiring saint riding a lion. Oral tradition links the kalām to Wahab Khar's encounter with his master, Rasul Sahib Vurpachh, in which the older saint appears in this very form. The poem reads as the disciple's bewildered, ardent address to that vision.

The Kalām

Farsi / Kashmiri Script	English Transcription	Modern Smooth English Translation
ہا شیر سوارو کور گژهکھ، أخر ژیے مرُن چُھے	Hā sher sawāro kor gachhakh, aekhir chey marun chhui	O rider of the lion, where will you go? In the end, even you must die.
یی چُھے ژیے علم تی میہ ونتم، تی میے پرُن چُھے	Yi chhi chey 'ilm ti mey wantam, ti mey parun chhui	Tell me the knowledge you possess, for that is what I too must learn.
یتِۂ روز ساتھا ونتۂ خبرا، پینجِہ بیہہ میزمان	Yeti roz sāthā, wanteh khabrā, penjih beh mehmān	Stay here a little while; speak with me, be a guest in my home.
روے چون وُچھہا، کمی ژیے دوپۓ ابدال کرُن چُھے	Roy chon wuchhā, kami chey dopyē abdāl karun chhui	Let me behold your face — who told you that you must turn me into an abdāl?
اتھ الفۂ قدس روخ ووزألی، چِھی جان گلِ انار	Ath alif-e-qadas rokh wozāli, chhi jān gul-e-anār	Your sacred, alif-like form glows; your cheeks are like pomegranate blossoms.
نرگِس چشمو کمی ژیے دوپنے جَود کرُن چُھے	Nargis chashmo kami chey dopnai jād karun chhui	Who told your narcissus-eyes they must cast a spell?
چِھی مارِ خفتے چانی شوٗبان بردوش اویزان	Chhi mār-e-khuftai chāni shūbān bar-dosh āwezān	Your sleeping-serpent locks hang beautifully over your shoulders.
یہ ونتۂ مجنوں کمی ژیے دوپنے قأد کرُن چھے	Yi wante Majnūn, kami chey dopnai qaed karun chhui	Tell me, Majnun — who said you had to be imprisoned by them?
دمہِ دمہِ گژھتو نِشی پِیرس، سِیرس سوئی کری زان	Damme damme gachhtov nishi pīras, sīras sui kari zān	Go again and again to the guide; he alone will acquaint you with the secret.
دل کِس باغس پوش پھولنے، پیوند کرُن چُھے	Dil kis bāgas posh pholnai, paiwand karun chhui	For the heart's garden to bloom, the graft of guidance must be joined to it.
یُس کھوژی ذاتس تَس کھوژی عالم، ادہ کیاہ جِن تِہ انسان	Yus khoji zātas tas khoji 'ālam, adah kyāh jin ti insān	Whoever fears the Divine Essence — the whole world fears him, jinn and human alike.
تَس تورۂ سوزُن گُر کھسُن کِیوتھ، دَور کرُن چُھے	Tas toreh sozan gur khasun kyuth, daur karun chhui	For such a one, a steed is sent from there; he must mount and ride the course.
یُس لائی ووٹھ اتھ تاوِ تژے، فی اللہ سُہ سپدی فان	Yus lāyi woatth ath tāvi tachhay, fī-Allāh su sapdi fān	Whoever leaps into this burning pan of love becomes annihilated in Allah.
فرد سوئی آسی خوش طبئی، تس نو مرُن چُھے	Fard su āsi khosh tabi'ī, tas no marun chhui	That person becomes inwardly blessed and obedient; for him, there is no real death.
پزرِٔچ رز یُس ہٹی گنڈی پانس، مٹٔی کرِٔ ذاتس پان	Pazrich raz yus hatti gandi pānas, mati kari zātas pān	Whoever ties the rope of truth around his own neck and surrenders himself to the Real—
یی وصل فصل بوز، اصل ژیے وعظ پرُن چُھے	Yi wasl fasl boz, asl chey wa'z parun chhui	Listen to union and separation: this, in truth, is the sermon you must learn.
تِٔژھ کرتۂ عملا یُتھ بنکھ جان، دۓ روٗزی مہربان	Tich karteh amlā yuth banakh jān, Day rozi mehrbān	Act in such a way that you become good; then God will remain kind to you.
پر کرتۂ پأدا، پل صراتس تارۂ ترُن چُھے	Par karteh paidā, pul-e-sirātas tāreh tarun chhui	Grow wings within yourself; you must cross the bridge of Sirat.
دمۂ سٔتی پھلنے اندرۂ پمپوش، ادۂ ہوشۂ وُچھتن یار	Dammeh seet falnai andreh pampōsh, adah hōshe wuchhtan yār	Through breath-practice, lotuses will bloom inside; then, in full awareness, you will behold the Beloved.
عبد الوہابو روز بر تل، اللہ ژیے پرُن چُھے	Abdul Wahābo roz bar tal, Allāh chey parun chhui	O Abdul Wahab, remain at the threshold; you must come to know Allah.

A Note on a Variant Reading

کیہنہ کیون وألٔ چھِ پران:

کیاہ چھِے ژیے علم تی میہ ونتم تی میہ پرُن چھے / گمز زیادہ ہمی چھٔی یی چھے ژیے علم

(آفاق عزیز محفوظ جان)

This is a variant-reading note by Afaq Aziz / Mahfooz Jaan, noting that some reciters render the second hemistich of the matla' as "kyāh chhi chey 'ilm…" rather than "yi chhi chey 'ilm…" — i.e. "what knowledge do you have" vs "that knowledge which you have." A subtle but lovely variant: the first is interrogative-pleading, the second is declarative-receptive, and it is found in Abdul Rashid Hafiz Sahib's recorded performance.

Where the Meaning is Not Obvious

"Sher sawāro" — the lion-rider. This is not merely dramatic address. In Kashmiri Sufi imagination, the lion-rider is a saint of formidable spiritual power — one whose nafs has been so utterly mastered that even the lion, symbol of raw appetite and force, bears him. Yet Wahab Khar's opening line is startlingly bold: even you must die. The poem begins by stripping away awe of outward power and asking instead for the inner treasure beneath it. The greatness of the saint is not the spectacle but the ma'rifat he carries.

"Tell me the knowledge you possess." This is not a request for information but for ma'rifat — lived, tasted recognition of the Real. The seeker is asking for transmission, not instruction.

"Abdāl." In Sufi cosmology the abdāl are a tier of hidden saints through whom the world is sustained. The poet's protest — who told you that you must make me an abdāl? — is exquisite humility: I did not come for rank or station; I came only to look upon your face and receive your fragrance.

The beauty imagery — alif, pomegranate, narcissus, serpent-locks. This is the visual vocabulary of Persianate love poetry, but in a Sufi reading the Beloved's physical loveliness is a mirror for Divine Beauty (jamāl). The alif-like form is the upright stature of the saint; pomegranate cheeks are the flush of spiritual radiance; narcissus eyes are the half-closed, contemplative gaze of one drowned in vision; serpent-locks are the sweet captivity in which the seeker is willingly bound. The danger of such beauty is enchantment without awakening; the gift is awakening through enchantment.

"Go again and again to the pīr." Among the clearest teachings in the poem. The heart is a garden, but it does not bloom by wishing. It needs paiwand — grafting — meaning initiation, discipline, and the patient nearness of a guide. One visit is not enough; the verb is damme damme, breath after breath, repeatedly.

"Whoever leaps into this burning pan… becomes fānī fī-Allāh." This is the heart of the kalām. Fanā fī-Allāh is the dissolving of the ego-self in God. The image of the burning pan (tāv) is direct from Wahab Khar's own trade as a cauldron-maker — the seeker is not gently warmed but plunged into the same fire he himself once tempered metal in. The line tas no marun chhui — for him there is no death — does not deny mortality; it says that what dies is the limited nafs, while the soul is taken up into a larger life.

"Grow wings… cross the Bridge of Sirāt." Sufi poetry refuses to separate love from ethics. The eschatological image of the bridge over hellfire becomes a present moral task: the wings are grown now, through right action, so that the crossing — at death and at every moment that resembles death — becomes possible.

"Through breath, lotuses will open within." A striking image. Damm here is not ordinary breathing but the inner spiritual practice of breath-remembrance (dhikr-e-khafī, the silent invocation tied to the breath). The lotuses (pampōsh) opening inside refer to the awakening of the subtle centres — what other Sufi traditions call the laṭā'if. After this opening, the Beloved is not merely longed for; He is consciously beheld.

The closing signature. Abdul Wahābo roz bar tal — "remain at the threshold." Wahab Khar ends not in arrival but in waiting. The takhalluṣ is not triumphant; it is the humility of one who, after singing all this, still places himself outside the door. That posture — at the threshold, still learning — is perhaps the truest teaching of the kalām.

You can listen to a common variant here:

Paane Menz Paan Parzenaw

Kalām: Momin Sahib (Babgam, Pulwama) · Performed by: Gulzar Ganie

Momin Sahib is held to be an early Kashmiri Sufi poet of Babgam in Pulwama, associated with the lineage of Khwaja Habibullah Nowshahri. Much of his work has been lost, and little firm biographical detail survives, but his greatest contribution is the Kashmiri masnavi rendering of Attar's Mantiq al-Tayr, in which the stations and stages of tasawwuf are unveiled through the language of birds. A few of his ghazals and wachhun still circulate on the tongues of singers, of which Aognuy Sapan tah Dognīyār Trāvov is among the most beloved.

The Kalām

Farsi / Kashmiri Script	English Transcription	Modern Smooth English Translation
اوٛگنُے سپَن تہٕ دۄگنیار تراوو	Ognuy sapan tah dognīyār trāvov	Become one; cast away all two-ness.
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.
وۄٹھ تُجۍ عشقن ژھٹھ دِتھ دراوو	Woth tujī ishqan zhath dith drāvov	Rise — love has struck you and drawn you out.
میٚژِ جامہٕ گٔنڈِتھ دراوو لو	Mēzh jāmah gaṇḍith drāvov lo	Tie on the seeker's robe and step out, dear one.
بے رنگ پانَے ہر رنگہٕ آوو	Be-rang pānay har rangah āvov	The colourless Self has appeared in every colour.
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.
غأبُ الغأبہٕ نِشہِ ہا لُباب دراوو	Ghāb-ul-ghābah nishah hā lubāb drāvov	From the hidden depth of the Hidden, the pure essence came forth.
اتھ پیو محمدﷺ ناوو لو	Ath pyov Muhammad nāvov lo	Upon it fell the blessed name Muhammad ﷺ.
زان کر پأدا بر چِکہٕ چاوو	Zān kar pādā, bar chikah chāvov	Awareness was born; the barred door swung open.
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.
شیٚے تہٕ ژور نَو ستھ پتھ کُن تراوو	Shey tah tsor, nav sath path-kun trāvov	Leave behind the six, the four, the nine, and the seven.
برونہہ کُن گُر ٹِکہٕ ناوو لو	Bronh-kun gur-ṭikah nāvov lo	Turn the steed toward what lies ahead, dear one.
کُنُے کُنِرس دِتھ چُھے جلاوو	Kunuy kuniras dith chhuy jalāvov	The One gives light to the one who seeks the One.
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.
مُدا چُھ کُنُے داہ تہٕ کاہ تراوو	Mudā chh kunuy; dāh tah kāh trāvov	The aim is the One; let go of ten and eleven.
ییٚتہِ نو کأنسہِ رأو گاوو لو	Yitih no kānsah rāw gāvov lo	There, no one is lost or led astray.
ژھاے چھے پننی راے بدلاوو	Zhāy chhe paninī rāy badlāvov	Change the way you cling to your own opinion.
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.
نَے کانہہ زاس تَے نَے کأنسہِ زاوو	Nay kānh zās, tay nay kānsih zāvov	None begets, and none is born.
اتھ پیٹھ اخلاص آوو لو	Ath peth Ikhlās āvov lo	From this comes the truth of Ikhlāṣ.
فی انفُسِکُم شأہد آوو	Fī anfusikum shāhid āvov	"Within yourselves" the witness has come.
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.
پوٗرِرَس سٕتۍ روز دوٗرؠر تراوو	Pūriras sətī roz, dūrīr trāvov	Stay with the perfected one; cast away distance.
لولہٕ سٕتۍ دِل پھۄلراوو لو	Lolah sətī dil pholrāvov lo	With love, let the heart blossom open, dear one.
ژھایہِ رۆس مومن صأب مایہِ چانہِ آوو	Zhāyih ros, Momin Sāb, māyih chānih āvov	Without You, O Momin Sahib, how would Your grace have reached me?
پانہٕ مٔنزۍ پان پرزٕ ناوو لو	Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov lo	Recognize yourself within yourself, dear one.

Where the Meaning is Not Obvious

The refrain — "Pānah manzī pān parz-nāvov." The whole kalām pivots on this line. It is not an invitation to self-admiration but the Sufi inward turn. The seeker is told to stop scanning the horizon for the Beloved and instead recognize the Divine sign already placed within the self. The refrain is the answer the rest of the verses keep pointing to.

"Dognīyār" — two-ness. This is the Kashmiri rendering of dū'ī, the duality that splits "I" from "He." Momin Sahib is not asking the seeker to erase love, but to move past the felt distance between lover and Beloved into the unity that love was always pointing toward.

"The colourless Self in every colour." A classic Sufi paradox: the Real is beyond form, yet every form discloses it. Colourless means beyond fixed attribute; every colour means manifest through all of creation. Nothing in the visible world is finally other than the One who shows through it.

"Ghāb-ul-ghābah" and the name Muhammad ﷺ. This points to the Sufi cosmology of the Haqīqat al-Muḥammadiyya — the Muhammadan Reality — understood as the first effulgence from the Hidden of the Hidden. It is not a historical claim about the Prophet's birth; it is a mystical statement about the primordial light through which the unseen first becomes knowable.

The numbers — six, four, nine, seven, ten, eleven. These are not arithmetic puzzles to be cracked. They stand for the whole human habit of dividing reality into categories: the bodily faculties, the elements, the heavenly spheres, the directions. The instruction is to step out of the counting altogether. The One cannot be reached by addition.

"Nay kānh zās, tay nay kānsih zāvov" — none begets, none is born. A direct echo of Sūrat al-Ikhlāṣ: lam yalid wa lam yūlad. The next line confirms it: Ath peth Ikhlās āvov — "from this comes Ikhlāṣ." Momin Sahib is folding the Qur'anic declaration of pure Oneness into the Kashmiri tongue.

"Fī anfusikum" — within yourselves. This recalls Qur'an 51:21: Wa fī anfusikum, afa lā tubṣirūn — "And within yourselves; will you not then see?" The witness is not somewhere far off. The proof is already inside the seeker; the only task is to turn and look.

The closing signature. Zhāyih ros, Momin Sāb, māyih chānih āvov — a tender takhalluṣ where the poet effaces himself entirely. The grace is not his; he is only the place where the grace found a tongue.

You can listen to the rendering here: