What is man’s life but love, love of self;
Man is dust, dust as his passion, dust as the beloved.
--
Death, st. 8-12Ghani Khan
I have nothing but dust from the mazars where the beloved of Allah sleep.I transform this dust through my surs into my songs. A recreation , a perennial recitation of the Holy names of Allah, the Holy Prophet(PBUH) and Ali is my heritage. I will pass it on to the next generation. Perhaps Allah likes what I do and He has opened the gates of blessings on me.I love Him. I go far and wide with the name of my Beloved on my lips. To those who do not knowlanguage I chant Allah hoo, I sing of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) and sing of Ali, the people are enchanted.I claim no skill, it is because of the great men of Allah, when I was awarded the Grand Prixin Paris Uxi Mufticame to me in thr green room and said that I possessed no skill for the honour and that it was because of saintsand blessings of Allah. He was right. what is man but a handful of dust and what canhe do?
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End!Omar Khayyam
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dust, who is not dust? I am dust. But I am your Member of Parliament, nevertheless.
Halldor Laxness
Manhood stands tall and high, and becomes madness;
The self takes leave of being and becomes ecstasy.
When iron sated with blood embraces love,
It turns into a bewildered sitar string.
When time robs man of love and the loved one,
He sees the beloved’s glory and his own.
How man sprouts when he sits down in dust!Ghani Khan
Khan, Ghani
Khan, Hafiz
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