Where’s this city Kabul? Tell me a little about their culture and practices. Anyone?
Re: Kabul
its the capital of afghanistan
located east of the city of peshawar in pakistan
culture is similar to pashtuns
Society is very conservative muslim
for detailed info plz use google.com :)
Re: Kabul
thank you James. That was very kind. are there any guppies from kabul here?
Re: Kabul
not that I know
but I think you should try to contact Golden Scorpion and Black Mamba
They are from Peshawar and can give you lot of information
Re: Kabul
i'm from kabul.
Re: Kabul
Ah! que Kaboul est belle ceintes de ses âpres montagnes,
Et Rose, elle est jalouse de leur traîne d’épines
Son sol poudroie au vent et me pique un peu les yeux,
Mais je l’aime car savoir et aimer naissent de la même poussière
Mon chant exalte ses tulipes éclatantes,
Et la beauté de ses arbres me fait rougir
Comme elle chatoie l’eau qui court depuis Pul I Bastaan !
Qu’Allah protège pareille beauté du mauvais oeil de l’homme !
Khizr a choisi le chemin de Kaboul pour se rendre au Paradis,
Car ses montagnes l’ont rapproché des délices célestes
Du fort aux murs déployés, Dragon de haute garde,
Chaque brique est plus précieuse que le trésor de Shayagan
Chaque rue de Kaboul captive le regard,
Par les bazars défilent les caravanes de l’Egypte
Nul ne pourrait compter les lunes qui brillent sur ses toits
Et les mille heureux soleils qui se cachent derrière ses murs
Ses rires du matin ont la gaieté des fleurs
Ses nuits obscures les reflets des chevelures superbes
Ses rossignols mélodieux chantent avec flamme leurs chansons
Et des airs ardents, comme des feuilles en feu, tombent de leur gorge
Et moi, je chante aux jardins de Jahanara, de Sharhara
Et même le Tubah du Paradis envie leurs vertes prairies
Re: Kabul
Re: Kabul
You kidding me! Wonderful!
Re: Kabul
Ah! que Kaboul est belle ceintes de ses âpres montagnes,
Et Rose:blush:, elle est jalouse de leur traîne d’épines
Son sol poudroie au vent et me pique un peu les yeux,
Mais je l’aime car savoir et aimer naissent de la même poussière:love:
Mon chant exalte ses tulipes éclatantes,
Et la beauté de ses arbres me fait rougir:o
Comme elle chatoie l’eau qui court depuis Pul I Bastaan !
Qu’Allah protège pareille beauté du mauvais oeil de l’homme ! ameen
Khizr a choisi le chemin de Kaboul pour se rendre au Paradis,
Car ses montagnes l’ont rapproché des délices célestes
Du fort aux murs déployés, Dragon de haute garde,
Chaque brique est plus précieuse que le trésor de Shayagan
Chaque rue de Kaboul captive le regard,
Par les bazars défilent les caravanes de l’Egypte
Nul ne pourrait compter les lunes qui brillent sur ses toits
Et les mille heureux soleils qui se cachent derrière ses murs
Ses rires du matin ont la gaieté des fleurs 
Ses nuits obscures les reflets des chevelures superbes
Ses rossignols mélodieux chantent avec flamme leurs chansons
Et des airs ardents, comme des feuilles en feu, tombent de leur gorge
Et moi, je chante aux jardins de Jahanara, de Sharhara
Et même le Tubah du Paradis envie leurs vertes prairies
quel beau poème vertigo!!!
merci beaucoup!
Re: Kabul
i’m 
nice to meet ya!
Re: Kabul
Nice to meet you niyal. It's wonderful to have you with us. Here's the English translation of the poem:
Ah! How beautiful is Kabul encircled by her arid mountains
And Rose, of the trails of thorns she envies
Her gusts of powdered soil, slightly sting my eyes
But I love her, for knowing and loving are born of this same dust
My song exhalts her dazzling tulips
And at the beauty of her trees, I blush
How sparkling the water flows from Pul-I-Bastaan!
May Allah protect such beauty from the evil eye of man!
Khizr chose the path to Kabul in order to reach Paradise
For her mountains brought him close to the delights of heaven
From the fort with sprawling walls, A Dragon of protection
Each stone is there more precious than the treasure of Shayagan
Every street of Kabul is enthralling to the eye
Through the bazaars, caravans of Egypt pass
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs
And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls
Her laughter of mornings has the gaiety of flowers
Her nights of darkness, the reflections of lustrous hair
Her melodious nightingales, with passion sing their songs
Ardent tunes, as leaves enflamed, cascading from their throats
And I, I sing in the gardens of Jahanara, of Sharbara
And even the trumpets of heaven envy their green pastures
Saib-e-Tabrizi 17th Century
Re: Kabul
quel beau poème vertigo!!!
merci beaucoup!
Translation please? I think it means, ‘Very beautiful poem vertigo!!! thank you very much!’
Am I right?
Re: Kabul
yes it does:)
i thought you could speak french as you posted in french:D
Re: Kabul
Yes, yes, I can. Moi speak french so eloquently.
Re: Kabul
if you need lessons, i can teach you, cause i’m french:blush:
where does your interest in kabul come from?
Re: Kabul
**vertigo thank you . it's a good poem .
here's another for u. **Frost at Midnight
The Frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
Came loud---and hark, again! loud as before.
The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
Have left me to that solitude, which suits
Abstruser musings: save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
`Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood,
With all the numberless goings-on of life,
Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame
Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not;
Only that film, which fluttered on the grate,
Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.
Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
Making it a companionable form,
Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit
By its own moods interprets, every where
Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
And makes a toy of Thought.
But O! how oft,
How oft, at school, with most believing mind,
Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars,
To watch that fluttering stranger! and as oft
With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt
Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower,
Whose bells, the poor man's only music, rang
From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day,
So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me
With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear
Most like articulate sounds of things to come!
So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt,
Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams!
And so I brooded all the following morn,
Awed by the stern preceptor's face, mine eye
Fixed with mock study on my swimming book:
Save if the door half opened, and I snatched
A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up,
For still I hoped to see the stranger's face,
Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved,
My play-mate when we both were clothed alike!
Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,
Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm,
Fill up the interspersed vacancies
And momentary pauses of the thought!
My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart
With tender gladness, thus to look at thee,
And think that thou shall learn far other lore,
And in far other scenes! For I was reared
In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim,
And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars.
But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze
By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags
Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds,
Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores
And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear
The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible
Of that eternal language, which thy God
Utters, who from eternity doth teach
Himself in all, and all things in himself.
Great universal Teacher! he shall mould
Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
Re: Kabul
i thought kabul was in turkey…like one aunty thought mari was in peshwaar:smack:…<(ded serious bout that aunty thing) : >)
i need to learn my geography:smokin2: