[Pramāṇa](https://indike.org/pramana/) › [Indian literature](https://indike.org/pramana/in) › [Dark Ages](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages) › [General histories](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general) › [Muntakhab al-tawārīkh](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh) › [Muntakhabu-t-tawarikh (Ranking, Lowe, Haig)](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh~en-ranking-lowe-haig) › 337 # Muntakhab al-tawarikh 337: CXXVI. Mīrzāda ‘Alī Khān. Muntakhabu-t-tawārīkh (Ranking, Lowe, Haig) 337 - **Language:** English ### [337](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh~en-ranking-lowe-haig.337) He was the son of Muhtaram Beg, one of the well-known Amīrs of the emperor Humāyūn. He was a man of pleasing qualities, and was fond of poetry, and sometimes wrote it. The following couplet is his:— “In the evening when thou throwest the veil from thy face The sun, unable to bear the dazzling sight, sets.” He was slain in Kashmīr in A.H. 996 (A.D. 1588) in the battle in which the imperial forces under Qāsim Khān, Mīr-i-Bahr, were defeated in a night attack made by Ya‘qūb, the son of Yūsuf Khān of Kashmīr. When gold saw itself spurned by her feet It fell in showers round her feet like fine muslin The whiteness of her neck, like a camphor candle, Rises from the bosom of her dress like a cord of light The whiteness of her arm exceeds that of silver, Her fore arm is as a chaplet of roses hung on jasmine From those two sweet chaplets of hers Her sleeves are filled with jasmine Her palm is as though she had taken a rose petal in her hand Each finger is like the bud of a lily set upon it Her breast and shoulders, which deprive the mind of sense, Seem to have taken a harvest of roses into their embrace As I am making entries in the register of her beauty (I may say) That the pure whiteness of her bosom exceeds that of milk, Her two nipples of incomparable beauty, Are as bubbles on the surface of milk. Her waist transcends the bounds of description For here the utmost delicacy is to be seen" He has also written a poem Laila-u-Majnun of which this couplet of his is quoted — “An old man of an honourable tribe Whose beard is like a white rose a yard in length” The following quatrain, he used to say, occurred to his mind in a dream — “O breeze, bring me some news from the street of my beloved! Bring to my dying body good news of my life. It is hard for me to arrive there Do me this favour and betake thyself thither swiftly” The cup-sickness of the wine of grief has made me heavy headed, Come, cup-bearer, and free me from the griefs of the world” Yesterday Muridi passed away to the dust and his love said, ‘This is one who has been killed in the path of love by the stone of cruelty. O flood of grief, wash not from my eyes the dust of his road, For it is to me a memorial of one who, (while he lived), was as the dust under my feet.’ ” “It was the blackness of her locks which was all the foundation of my faith, I am no true Musalman if I turn my face away from her. Though the dog of thy street is more highly regarded than I, Yet I am not a whit behind him in the path of fidelity.” “The lovely ones, who have made their ringlets ornaments around their faces, Have taken the people in these snares.” “Absent from that rosy-faced one, my heart is contracted like a rosebud, A madman am I, smitten with love’s madness, fighting with shadows.” “When fate drew that line of dusky down on my love’s face, It drew beside it the line of my dependence on her.” - [Previous: 336](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh~en-ranking-lowe-haig.336) - [Next: 338](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh~en-ranking-lowe-haig.338) --- Source: [https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh~en-ranking-lowe-haig.337](https://indike.org/pramana/in.darkages.general.muntakhab-al-tawarikh~en-ranking-lowe-haig.337) · Pramāṇa