Ahmad Faraz – Juvenilia

My rough draft below does not even claim to be anything other than an exercise in literal translation.

ranjish hī sahī dil hī dukhāne ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhoḌ ke jaane ke liye aa

Estrangement it might be, but come at least to hurt the heart again
Come to leave me yet again

kuchh to mire pindār-e-mohabbat kā bharam rakh
tū bhī to kabhī mujh ko manāne ke liye aa

Allow at least the pretence of the pride of my love
You too should visit sometime to (give the appearance of) mollify (ing) me

pahle se marāsim na sahī phir bhī kabhī to
rasm-o-rah-e-duniyā hī nibhāne ke liye aa

The intimacies may not be the same as before
But still sometime come to keep up pretences

kis kis ko batā.eñge judā.ī kā sabab ham
tū mujh se ḳhafā hai to zamāne ke liye aa

Who all will we tell the reasons for our parting
You are upset with me, but come for the world

ik umr se huuñ lazzat-e-girya se bhī mahrūm
ai rāhat-e-jāñ mujh ko rulāne ke liye aa

For an age, I have been deprived of the taste of tears of joy
O soother of the soul, come if only to make me cry

ab tak dil-e-ḳhush-fahm ko tujh se haiñ ummīdeñ
ye āḳhirī sham.eñ bhī bujhāne ke liye aa

Till now, the optimistic heart has hopes from you
Come now to snuff out these last lamps of light

(after Ahmad Faraz)

So I’ll regret it. But lead my heart to pain.

Return, if it is just to leave me again.

“Till death do us part.” Come for their sense of us, . . .

For Belief’s sake, let appearances remain.

Let YOU, at Elysian Fields, step off the streetcar—

so my sense of wonder’s made utterly plain.

Not for mine but for the world’s sake come back.

They ask why you left? To whom all must I explain?

I laughed when they said our time was running out—

I stirred the leaves in the tea I’d brewed to drain.

Break your pride, be the Consoler for once—

Bring roses, let my love-illusion remain.

An era’s passed since the luxury of tears—

Make me weep, Consoler, let blood know its rain.

From New York to Andalusia I searched for you—

Lorca, dazzled on your lips, is all of Spain.

“Time, like Love, wears a mask in this story.”

And Love? My blind spot. Piercing me to the brain.

Oh, that my head were waters, mine eyes a fountain

so that I might weep day and night for the slain.

Shouting your name till the last car had disappeared,

how I ran on the platform after your train.

To find her, ’round phantom-wrists I glue bangles—

What worlds she did not break when she left my lane!

Still beguiled with hopes of you, the heart is lit.

To put out this last candle, come, it burns in vain

– Agha Shahid Ali

This deserves a separate entry for the Ahmad Faraz Ghazal made immortal by Mehdi Hasan. As is obvious, this is not a translation, or even a transcreation, but a tip of the hat. I have attempted a hurried translation here.

ranjish hī sahī dil hī dukhāne ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhoḌ ke jaane ke liye aa

kuchh to mire pindār-e-mohabbat kā bharam rakh
tū bhī to kabhī mujh ko manāne ke liye aa

pahle se marāsim na sahī phir bhī kabhī to
rasm-o-rah-e-duniyā hī nibhāne ke liye aa

kis kis ko batā.eñge judā.ī kā sabab ham
tū mujh se ḳhafā hai to zamāne ke liye aa

ik umr se huuñ lazzat-e-girya se bhī mahrūm
ai rāhat-e-jāñ mujh ko rulāne ke liye aa

ab tak dil-e-ḳhush-fahm ko tujh se haiñ ummīdeñ
ye āḳhirī sham.eñ bhī bujhāne ke liye aa .

A newage version:

Category: Ahmad Faraz

Ranjish hi sahi

As Ever