Ab'ul Hasan Yamin al-Din Khusrow (Persian: / Urdu ابوالحسن یمینالدین خسرو; Hindi: अबुल हसन यमीनुद्दीन ख़ुसरौ), better known as Amir Khusrow (or Khusrau) Dehlawi was an Indian musician, scholar and poet. He was an iconic figure in the cultural history of the Indian subcontinent. A Sufi mystic and a spiritual disciple of Nizamuddin Auliya of Delhi, Amir Khusrow was not only a notable poet but also a prolific and seminal musician. He wrote poetry primarily in Persian, but also in Hindavi.
He is regarded as the "father of qawwali" (the devotional music of the Indian Sufis). He is also credited with enriching Hindustani classical music by introducing Persian and Arabic ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Amir Khusro Poems
I am a pagan and a worshiper of love: the creed (of Muslims) I do not need; Every vein of mine has become taunt like a wire,
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why? You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,
'Whoever accepts me as a master, Ali is his master too.'
Oh Khusrau, the river of love runs in strange directions. One who jumps into it drowns, and one who drowns, gets across.
I've Just Had an Affair
Hey, I've just had an affair with my darling, Don't care what the neighbourhood girls say; Just had an affair with my darling. Oh, his beautiful face, charming like an idol,
Just a glance
You've taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance. You've taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance. By making me drink the wine of love-potion,
The Yellow Mustard is Blooming
The yellow mustard is blooming in every field, Mango buds are clicking open, other flowers too; The koyal chirps from branch to branch, And the maiden tries her make-up,
Rains Have Come
Dear Mom, send my dad across; the rainy season has come. Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Dye Me In Your Hue
Dye me in your hue, my love, You are my man, oh beloved of Almighty; Dye me in your hue. My scarf, and the beloved's turban,
O wondrous ecstatic eyes, o wondrous long locks, O wondrous wine worshipper, o wondrous mischievous sweetheart.
Too Much Difficult
The road to the Well is too much difficult, How to get my pot filled?
My youth is budding, is full of passion; How can I spend this time without my beloved?
What a Glow Everywhere I See
What a glow everywhere I see, Oh mother, what a glow; I've found the beloved, yes I found him,
Celebrate Spring Today
Rejoice, my love, rejoice, Its spring here, rejoice. Bring out your lotions and toiletries,
Comments about Amir Khusro
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
I am a pagan and a worshiper 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.