ik ohde ruup dii dhup tikherii dujaa mahkaaN daa tirhaaiyaa (2) teejaa odhaa rang gulaabii kise gorii maaN daa jaayaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
for one, the radiance of his beauty was as the sun at noon, second, he pined for perfumes (2) third, he had a rosy bloom born to a fair mother
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
nainii odhe chet dii aakhan at’e zulfii saavan chhaiyaa hoThaaN de vich kat’e daa koii dihu chaRne te aaiyaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
his eyes were as the evening in spring, his hair as the monsoon is spread, and on his lips for a long time a new day about to be born
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
savaaN de vich phul soyiaaN de kisse baagh chanan daa laaiyaa dehii de vich kheDe chetar itraaN naal nuhaaiyaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
in his breath the flowers of jasmine; (as if)someone had laid out a garden of sandalwood spring danced in his body (3) which was bathed in perfumes
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
bolaaN de vich paen pur’e dii nii oh koilaaN daa hamsaaiyaa chiTTe dund jiyuN dhaanoN baglaa taaRii maar udaayiaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
in his speech, falls the easterly wind, oh he was just as a cuckoo bird; his teeth white as a crane in a paddy field that flies off startled by clapping
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
ishq’e daa ik palang nawaarii ve asaaaN chananiyaaN vich Dahiyaa tan dii chadar ho gayii mailii us paer jaaN palaNgheN payaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
of love one canvas bed we spread under the moonlight the sheet of (my) body became soiled when he put his feet on the bed
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
dukhan mere nainaa de koe vich haR hanjhuaaN daa aaiyaa saarii raat gayii vich sochaaN uss eh kii zulam kamaaiyaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
my eyelids hurt and a flood of tears came between all night i lost spent in thought oh what is this punishment i have earned
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
subah savere lau nii vaTnaa asaaN mal mal os nuhvaayaa dehiiN de vichoN niklan chiNgaaN te saaDaa hath gayaa kumlaaiaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
early morning kneading washing clay i scrubbed and bathed it [the body] from within my body flew sparks and my hand became weak
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
chuurii kuTaaN te o khaundaa naahii ohnuu dil daa maas khvayaa ik uDaarii aisii maarii uh muD vatnii naa aayaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
bread crumbs i crushed but he wouldn’t eat them i fed him the flesh of my heart he took off for such a flight that he’s never returned
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
maae nii maae maiN ik shikraa yaar banaaiyaa ohde sir te kalgii te odhi pairii jhaanjhar te o chog chugindaa aaiyaa
nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!
mother o mother i made a falcon my lover he’d got a crest on his head and anklets on his feet and pecking for food he came
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
The Falcon
mother o mother i made a falcon my friend he’d got a crest on his head and anklets on his feet and pecking for food he came
for one, the radiance of his beauty was as the sun at noon, second, he pined for perfumes (2) third, he had a rosy bloom born to a fair mother
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
his eyes were as the evening in spring, his hair as the monsoon is spread, and on his lips for a long time a new day about to be born
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
in his breath the flowers of jasmine; (as if)someone’d laid out a garden of sandalwood in his body played chetar (3) bathed in perfumes
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
in his speech, falls the easterly wind, oh he was just as a cuckoo bird; his teeth white as a crane in a paddy field that flies off startled by clapping
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
of love one canvas bed we spread under the moonlight the sheet of (my) body became soiled when he put his feet on the bed
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
my eyelids hurt and a flood of tears came between all night i lost spent in thought oh what is this punishment i have earned
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
early morning kneading washing clay i scrubbed and bathed it [the body] from within my body flew sparks and my hand became weak
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
bread crumbs i crushed but he wouldn’t eat them i fed him the flesh of my heart he took off for such a flight that he’s never returned
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
mother o mother i made a falcon my lover he’d got a crest on his head and anklets on his feet and pecking for food he came
o ‘i devote myself for thee’!
1.“nii maiN vaarii jaaNvaa!” “o ‘i devote myself for thee’!” Platts does give ‘sacrifice’ as an option too, but translated this phrase in English in quotes.
2. The meaning of mahkaaN daa “tirhaaiyaa” .A friend’s father, who happens to have known Batalvi, that perhaps it is something like a craving, from punjabi “treh” and might be an allusion to the falcons’ olfactory senses and how they home in on their prey.
3. “Chetr” or “Chetra” in Punjabi corresponds to “chetra” in Hindi/Urdu – the first month in the Hindu calendar, generally March.
I now take your leave My friend, I now take your leave I had wanted to write a poem That you could go on reading for the rest of your life
In that poem There would have been a reference to: the fragrance of coriander the rustling of sugarcane and the delicate beauty of fresh shoots That poem would have talked about fog seeping over trees and the singing froth of fresh milk in buckets And everything else that I saw in your body All that was supposed to be mentioned
In that poem the stiffness of my hands had to smile the fishbones of my thighs had to swim And from the soft shawl of my chest hair had to emanate wafts of warm aroma In that poem for you for me and for every relationship in life there was to be a whole lot, my friend But it is very tasteless to deal with this map of entanglements of the world And even if I had written that auguries-filled poem it would have died gasping for breath leaving you and me wailing over its chest my friend, the poem has become irrelevant now while the nails of weapons have grown badly and now before each type of poem it has become imperative to fight with weapons in war each thing is understood very easily like writing one’s name or that of the enemy and in this condition comparing the roundness of my lips leaning forward to kiss with the shape of the Earth or the sway of your hips with the breathing of the ocean would have seemed like a joke so I therefore did not do this
you and your wish to play with children in my courtyard and the totality of war was not possible for me to put in one line so I now take your leave my friend, we shall rememberthose spots in the village that in the daytime are hot as the blacksmith’s furnace and at night become fragrant like flowers and soaked in moonlight, lying on the bundle of twigs it is very musical to curse the heaven yes, we shall have to remember this because when the pockets of the hearts have nothing it is very soothing to remember
i want to express gratitude at this hour of farewell to all those beautiful things that weighed down our meetings like tents and those common places that became became beautiful at our meetings
and I thank:the soft breeze, filled-with-songs like you that would pause at our heads that would keep my mind occupied while I waited for you
and the silken grass that grows on top that always spread itself in front of your swaying walk the cotton out of the trunks that never seemed to mind that smilingly became beds for us
the small birds deployed on sugarcane fieldswho kept an eye out on those coming and going
the ripened wheat that covered us, if not while sitting at least when we lay down I thank those small flowers of mustard that often granted me the boon to shake out the saffron pollen from your hair
I am a man – a man, who is made by joining lots of small small things and for all those things that prevented me from coming undone I have a lot to thank I want to thank
It’s so simple to love as if while tolerating oppression getting oneself ready for battle or as if shot by a bullet during secret exile in one moment while laying down imagining the healing of the wound falling in love and dying fighting my friend, it’s like taking life and faith
the way sunlight blooms on Earth and then gets constricted in a cuddle the way it flares up like an explosive and echoes inside four walls that’s the way to live life
to love and live doesn’t come easy to those those whom life has made into traders to understand the relationship between bodies never to draw a line between happiness and hate to be smitten by the expanded size of life to meet and part after piercing all restraints is the work of a great warrior, my friend I now bid you farewell
you should forget how I nurtured you into youth what all did my eyes not do to chisel your features into place how my kisses beautified your face and my hugs cast your wax-like body into shape
you forget all this, my friend except that: I had a great desire to live I wanted to drown neck-deep into life
Live my share of life too, my friend Live my share of life too, my friend
I now take your leave, my friend
मैं हुन विदा हुन्दा हां
मेरी दोसत मैं हुन विदा हुन्दा हां।
मैं इक कविता लिखनी चाही सी।
तूं जिस नूं सारी उमर पड़्हदी रह सकें
उस कविता विच
महकदे होए धनीए दा ज़िकर होना सी
कमादां दी सरसराहट दा ज़िकर होना सी
ते गन्दलां दी नाज़क शोखी दा ज़िकर होना सी।
उस कविता विच रुक्खां उत्तों चोंदियां धुन्दां
अते बालटी विच चोए दुद्ध ‘ते गौंदियां झग्गां दा ज़िकर होना सी
ते जो वी होर
मैं तेरे जिसम विचों तक्क्या
उस सारे कासे दा ज़िकर होना सी
उस कविता विच मेरे हत्थां उतले रट्टणां ने मुसकरौना सी
मेरे पट्टां दियां मछलियां ने तैरना सी
ते मेरे हिक्क दे वालां दे नरम शाल विच
निघ्घ दियां लपटां उठणियां सन,
उस कविता विच
तेरे लई
मेरे लई
ते ज़िन्दगी दे सारे साकां लई बहुत कुझ होना सी मेरी दोसत,
पर बड़ा ई बेसवादा ए
दुनिया दे इस उलझे होए नकशे नाल निपटणा।
ते जे मैं लिख वी लैंदा
उह शगनां भरी कविता
तां उस ने उंझ ही दम तोड़ देना सी
तैनूं ते मैनूं छाती उत्ते विलकदे छड्ड के,
मेरी दोसत कविता बहुत ही निसत्ती हो गई है
जद कि हथ्यारां दे नौंह भैड़ी तर्हां वध आए हन
ते हर तर्हां दी कविता तों पहलां
हथ्यारां नाल युद्ध करना ज़रूरी हो ग्या है
युद्ध विच
हर चीज़ नूं बड़ी सौखी तरां समझ ल्या जांदा है
आपना जां दुशमन दा नां लिखन वांग
ते इस हालत ‘च
मेरे चुंमन लई वधे होए बुल्ल्हां दी गोलायी नूं
धरती दे आकार दी उपमा
जां तेरे लक्क दे लहरन नूं
समुन्दर दे साह लैन दी तुलना देणा
बड़ा मज़ाक जेहा लग्गना सी।
सो मैं अजेहा कुझ नहीं कीता,
तैंनूं,
तेरी मेरे वेहड़े विच बच्चे खिडा सकन दी ख़ाहश नूं
ते युद्ध दी समुच्चता नूं
इको कतार विच खड़ा करना मेरे लई संभव नहीं हो सक्या
ते मैं हुन विदा हुन्दा हां।
मेरी दोसत, आपां याद रक्खांगे
कि दिने लुहार दी भट्ठी दे वांग तपन वाले
आपने पिंड दे टिब्बे
रात नूं फुल्लां वांग महक उट्ठदे हन,
ते चांदनी विच रसे होए टोके दे ढेरां ते लेट के
सवरग नूं गाहल कढ्ढणा, बड़ा संगीतमयी हुन्दा है
हां इह सानूं याद रक्खना पएगा क्योुंकि
जदों दिल दियां जेबां च कुझ नहीं हुन्दा
याद करना बड़ा ही सुखावां लगदा है।
मैं इस विदायी दी घड़ी धन्नवाद करना चाहुन्दा हां
उन्हां सारियां हुसीन चीज़ां दा
जो साडियां मिलणियां ते तम्बू वांग तणदियां रहियां
ते उहनां आम थावां दा
जो साडे मिलन ते हुसीन हो गईआं,
मैं धन्नवाद करदा हां-
आपने सिर ते ठहर जान वाली
तेरे वांग हौली ते गीतां भरी हवा दा
जो मेरा चित्त लायी रक्खदी रही तेरी उडीक करद्यां
आड उत्ते उग्गे होए रेशमी घाह दा
जो तेरी रुमकदी होयी तोर दे अग्गे सदा विछ विछ ग्या,
टींड्यां ‘चों किरियां कपाहां दा
जिन्हां ने कदे कोयी उज़र ना कीता
ते सदा मुसकरा के आपने लई सेज बण गईआं,
गन्न्यां उत्ते तैनात पिद्दियां दा
जिन्हां ने आउंदे जांदे दी बिड़क रक्खी
जवान होईआं कणकां दा
जो सानूं बैठ्यां ना सही, लेट्यां तां ढक्कदियां रहियां।
मैं धन्नवाद करदां, सर्हों दे निक्क्यां फुल्लां दा
जिन्हां मैंनूं कई वारी बखश्या मौका
पराग केसर तेर्यां वालां चों झाड़न दा।
मैं मनुक्ख हां, बहुत कुझ निक्का निक्का जोड़ के बण्या हां
ते उहनां सारियां चीज़ां लई
जिन्हां मैंनूं खिंडर जान तों बचायी रक्ख्या
मेरे कोल बहुत शुकराना है
मैं धन्नवाद करना चाहुन्दा हां।
प्यार करना बड़ा ही सहज है
जिवें कि ज़ुलम नूं सहारदे होयां
आपने आप नूं लड़ायी लई त्यार करना,
जां जिवें गुपतवास विच वज्जी होयी गोली तों
किसे छन्न अन्दर पए रह के
ज़खम दे भरन दी कोयी कलपना करे
प्यार करना
ते लड़ सकणा
जीन ते ईमान लै आउना मेरी दोसत, इहो हुन्दा है।
धुप्पां वांग धरती ते खिड़ जाणा,
ते फिर गलवकड़ी विच सिमट जाणा,
बरूद वांग भड़क उट्ठणा
ते चौहां कूटां अन्दर गूंज जाणा-
जीन दा इहो ही सलीका हुन्दा है।
प्यार करना ते जीना उन्हां नूं कदे नहीं आउणा
जिन्हां नूं ज़िन्दगी ने बाणीए बना दित्ता।
जिसमां दा रिशता समझ सकणा-
ख़ुशी ते नफरत विच कदे वी लीक ना खिच्चणा
ज़िन्दगी दे फैले होए आकार ते फ़िदा होणा-
सहम नूं चीर के मिलना ते विदा होणा-
बड़ा सूरमगती दा कंम हुन्दा है मेरी दोसत
मैं हुन विदा हन्दा हां।
तूं भुल्ल जावीं
मैं तैनूं किस तर्हां झिंमणां दे अन्दर पाल के जवान कीता
कि मेरियां नज़रां ने की कुझ नहीं कीता
तेरे नकशां दी धार बन्न्हन विच,
कि मेरे चुंमणां ने किन्ना ख़ूबसूरत कर दित्ता तेरा चेहरा
कि मेरियां जफ्फियां ने
तेरा मोम वरगा पिंडा किंज संचे च ढाल्या
तूं इह सारा ई कुझ भुल्ल जावीं मेरी दोसत
सिवा इस तों
कि मैंनूं जीन दी बहुत लोचा सी
कि मैं गले तीकर ज़िन्दगी विच डुब्बना चाहुन्दा सां
मेरे वी हिस्से दा जिय लैना मेरी दोसत,
मेरे वी हिस्से दा जिय लैणा।
ਮੈਂ ਹੁਣ ਵਿਦਾ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ I now take your leave ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ ਮੈਂ ਹੁਣ ਵਿਦਾ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ। My friend, I now take your leave ਮੈਂ ਇਕ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਲਿਖਣੀ ਚਾਹੀ ਸੀ। I had wanted to write a poem ਤੂੰ ਜਿਸ ਨੂੰ ਸਾਰੀ ਉਮਰ ਪੜ੍ਹਦੀ ਰਹਿ ਸਕੇਂ That you could read for the rest of your life
ਉਸ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਵਿਚ In that poem ਮਹਿਕਦੇ ਹੋਏ ਧਨੀਏ ਦਾ ਜ਼ਿਕਰ ਹੋਣਾ ਸੀ There would have been a reference to: the fragrance of dhania ਕਮਾਦਾਂ ਦੀ ਸਰਸਰਾਹਟ ਦਾ ਜ਼ਿਕਰ ਹੋਣਾ ਸੀ the rustling of sugarcane ਤੇ ਗੰਦਲਾਂ ਦੀ ਨਾਜ਼ਕ ਸ਼ੋਖੀ ਦਾ ਜ਼ਿਕਰ ਹੋਣਾ ਸੀ। and the delicate beauty of fresh shoots ਉਸ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਵਿਚ ਰੁੱਖਾਂ ਉੱਤੋਂ ਚੋਂਦੀਆਂ ਧੁੰਦਾਂ That poem would have talked about fog seeping over trees ਅਤੇ ਬਾਲਟੀ ਵਿਚ ਚੋਏ ਦੁੱਧ ‘ਤੇ ਗੌਂਦੀਆਂ ਝੱਗਾਂ ਦਾ ਜ਼ਿਕਰ ਹੋਣਾ ਸੀ And the singing froth of fresh milk in buckets ਤੇ ਜੋ ਵੀ ਹੋਰ And everything else ਮੈਂ ਤੇਰੇ ਜਿਸਮ ਵਿਚੋਂ ਤੱਕਿਆ that I saw in your body ਉਸ ਸਾਰੇ ਕਾਸੇ ਦਾ ਜ਼ਿਕਰ ਹੋਣਾ ਸੀ was to be mentioned
ਉਸ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਵਿਚ ਮੇਰੇ ਹੱਥਾਂ ਉਤਲੇ ਰੱਟਣਾਂ ਨੇ ਮੁਸਕਰੌਣਾ ਸੀ In that poem the stiffness of my hands had to smile ਮੇਰੇ ਪੱਟਾਂ ਦੀਆਂ ਮਛਲੀਆਂ ਨੇ ਤੈਰਨਾ ਸੀ the fishbones of my thighs had to swim ਤੇ ਮੇਰੇ ਹਿੱਕ ਦੇ ਵਾਲਾਂ ਦੇ ਨਰਮ ਸ਼ਾਲ ਵਿਚ And from the soft shawl of my chest hair ਨਿੱਘ ਦੀਆਂ ਲਪਟਾਂ ਉਠਣੀਆਂ ਸਨ, wafts of warm aroma had to emanate ਉਸ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਵਿਚ in that poem ਤੇਰੇ ਲਈ for you ਮੇਰੇ ਲਈ for me ਤੇ ਜ਼ਿੰਦਗੀ ਦੇ ਸਾਰੇ ਸਾਕਾਂ ਲਈ ਬਹੁਤ ਕੁਝ ਹੋਣਾ ਸੀ ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ, and for every relationship in life, there was to be a whole lot, my friend ਪਰ ਬੜਾ ਈ ਬੇਸਵਾਦਾ ਏ but it is very tasteless ਦੁਨੀਆ ਦੇ ਇਸ ਉਲਝੇ ਹੋਏ ਨਕਸ਼ੇ ਨਾਲ ਨਿਪਟਣਾ। to tangle with this map of entanglements of the world ਤੇ ਜੇ ਮੈਂ ਲਿਖ ਵੀ ਲੈਂਦਾ and even if I had written ਉਹ ਸ਼ਗਨਾਂ ਭਰੀ ਕਵਿਤਾ that auguries-filled poem ਤਾਂ ਉਸ ਨੇ ਉਂਝ ਹੀ ਦਮ ਤੋੜ ਦੇਣਾ ਸੀ it would have died gasping for breath ਤੈਨੂੰ ਤੇ ਮੈਨੂੰ ਛਾਤੀ ਉੱਤੇ ਵਿਲਕਦੇ ਛੱਡ ਕੇ, leaving you and me wailing over its chest ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਬਹੁਤ ਹੀ ਨਿਸੱਤੀ ਹੋ ਗਈ ਹੈ my friend, the poem has become irrelevant now ਜਦ ਕਿ ਹਥਿਆਰਾਂ ਦੇ ਨੌਂਹ ਭੈੜੀ ਤਰ੍ਹਾਂ ਵਧ ਆਏ ਹਨ while the nails of weapons have grown badly ਤੇ ਹਰ ਤਰ੍ਹਾਂ ਦੀ ਕਵਿਤਾ ਤੋਂ ਪਹਿਲਾਂ and now before each type of poem ਹਥਿਆਰਾਂ ਨਾਲ ਯੁੱਧ ਕਰਨਾ ਜ਼ਰੂਰੀ ਹੋ ਗਿਆ ਹੈ it has become imperative to fight with weapons ਯੁੱਧ ਵਿਚ in war ਹਰ ਚੀਜ਼ ਨੂੰ ਬੜੀ ਸੌਖੀ ਤਰਾਂ ਸਮਝ ਲਿਆ ਜਾਂਦਾ ਹੈ each thing is understood very easily ਆਪਣਾ ਜਾਂ ਦੁਸ਼ਮਨ ਦਾ ਨਾਂ ਲਿਖਣ ਵਾਂਗ like writing one’s name or that of the enemy ਤੇ ਇਸ ਹਾਲਤ ‘ਚ and in this condition comparing ਮੇਰੇ ਚੁੰਮਣ ਲਈ ਵਧੇ ਹੋਏ ਬੁੱਲ੍ਹਾਂ ਦੀ ਗੋਲਾਈ ਨੂੰ the roundness of my lips leaning forward to kiss ਧਰਤੀ ਦੇ ਆਕਾਰ ਦੀ ਉਪਮਾ with the shape of the Earth ਜਾਂ ਤੇਰੇ ਲੱਕ ਦੇ ਲਹਿਰਨ ਨੂੰ or the sway of your hips ਸਮੁੰਦਰ ਦੇ ਸਾਹ ਲੈਣ ਦੀ ਤੁਲਨਾ ਦੇਣਾ with the breathing of the ocean ਬੜਾ ਮਜ਼ਾਕ ਜਿਹਾ ਲੱਗਣਾ ਸੀ। would have seemed like a joke ਸੋ ਮੈਂ ਅਜਿਹਾ ਕੁਝ ਨਹੀਂ ਕੀਤਾ, so I therefore did not do this ਤੈਂਨੂੰ, you ਤੇਰੀ ਮੇਰੇ ਵਿਹੜੇ ਵਿਚ ਬੱਚੇ ਖਿਡਾ ਸਕਣ ਦੀ ਖ਼ਾਹਿਸ਼ ਨੂੰ and your wish to play with children in my courtyard ਤੇ ਯੁੱਧ ਦੀ ਸਮੁੱਚਤਾ ਨੂੰ and the totality of war ਇਕੋ ਕਤਾਰ ਵਿਚ ਖੜਾ ਕਰਨਾ ਮੇਰੇ ਲਈ ਸੰਭਵ ਨਹੀਂ ਹੋ ਸਕਿਆ was not possible for me to put in one line ਤੇ ਮੈਂ ਹੁਣ ਵਿਦਾ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ। so I now take your leave ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ, ਆਪਾਂ ਯਾਦ ਰੱਖਾਂਗੇ my friend, we shall remember ਕਿ ਦਿਨੇ ਲੁਹਾਰ ਦੀ ਭੱਠੀ ਦੇ ਵਾਂਗ ਤਪਣ ਵਾਲੇ that in the daytime hot as the blacksmith’s furnace ਆਪਣੇ ਪਿੰਡ ਦੇ ਟਿੱਬੇ locations in our village ਰਾਤ ਨੂੰ ਫੁੱਲਾਂ ਵਾਂਗ ਮਹਿਕ ਉੱਠਦੇ ਹਨ, at night become fragrant like flowers ਤੇ ਚਾਂਦਨੀ ਵਿਚ ਰਸੇ ਹੋਏ ਟੋਕੇ ਦੇ ਢੇਰਾਂ ਤੇ ਲੇਟ ਕੇ and soaked in moonlight, lying on the bundle of twigs ਸਵਰਗ ਨੂੰ ਗਾਹਲ ਕੱਢਣਾ, ਬੜਾ ਸੰਗੀਤਮਈ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹੈ it is very musical to curse the heaven ਹਾਂ ਇਹ ਸਾਨੂੰ ਯਾਦ ਰੱਖਣਾ ਪਏਗਾ ਕਿਓੁਂਕਿ yes, we shall have to remember this because ਜਦੋਂ ਦਿਲ ਦੀਆਂ ਜੇਬਾਂ ‘ਚ ਕੁਝ ਨਹੀਂ ਹੁੰਦਾ when the pockets of the hearts have nothing ਯਾਦ ਕਰਨਾ ਬੜਾ ਹੀ ਸੁਖਾਵਾਂ ਲਗਦਾ ਹੈ। it is very soothing to remember
ਮੈਂ ਇਸ ਵਿਦਾਈ ਦੀ ਘੜੀ ਧੰਨਵਾਦ ਕਰਨਾ ਚਾਹੁੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ i want to express gratitude at this hour of farewell ਉਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਸਾਰੀਆਂ ਹੁਸੀਨ ਚੀਜ਼ਾਂ ਦਾ to all those beautiful things ਜੋ ਸਾਡੀਆਂ ਮਿਲਣੀਆਂ ਤੇ ਤੰਬੂ ਵਾਂਗ ਤਣਦੀਆਂ ਰਹੀਆਂ that weighed down our meetings like tents ਤੇ ਉਹਨਾਂ ਆਮ ਥਾਵਾਂ ਦਾ and those common places ਜੋ ਸਾਡੇ ਮਿਲਣ ਤੇ ਹੁਸੀਨ ਹੋ ਗਈਆਂ, that became became beautiful at our meetings ਮੈਂ ਧੰਨਵਾਦ ਕਰਦਾ ਹਾਂ- and I thank ਆਪਣੇ ਸਿਰ ਤੇ ਠਹਿਰ ਜਾਣ ਵਾਲੀ those that would pause at our heads ਤੇਰੇ ਵਾਂਗ ਹੌਲੀ ਤੇ ਗੀਤਾਂ ਭਰੀ ਹਵਾ ਦਾ the breeze, filled-with-songs and soft like you ਜੋ ਮੇਰਾ ਚਿੱਤ ਲਾਈ ਰੱਖਦੀ ਰਹੀ ਤੇਰੀ ਉਡੀਕ ਕਰਦਿਆਂ that would keep my mind occupied while I waited for you ਆਡ ਉੱਤੇ ਉੱਗੇ ਹੋਏ ਰੇਸ਼ਮੀ ਘਾਹ ਦਾ and the silken grass that grows on top ਜੋ ਤੇਰੀ ਰੁਮਕਦੀ ਹੋਈ ਤੋਰ ਦੇ ਅੱਗੇ ਸਦਾ ਵਿਛ ਵਿਛ ਗਿਆ, that always spread itself in front of your swaying walk ਟੀਂਡਿਆਂ ‘ਚੋਂ ਕਿਰੀਆਂ ਕਪਾਹਾਂ ਦਾ the cotton out of the trunks ਜਿਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਨੇ ਕਦੇ ਕੋਈ ਉਜ਼ਰ ਨਾ ਕੀਤਾ that never seemed to mind ਤੇ ਸਦਾ ਮੁਸਕਰਾ ਕੇ ਆਪਣੇ ਲਈ ਸੇਜ ਬਣ ਗਈਆਂ, that smilingly became beds for us ਗੰਨਿਆਂ ਉੱਤੇ ਤੈਨਾਤ ਪਿੱਦੀਆਂ ਦਾ the small birds deployed on sugarcane fields ਜਿਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਨੇ ਆਉਂਦੇ ਜਾਂਦੇ ਦੀ ਬਿੜਕ ਰੱਖੀ who kept an eye out on those coming and going ਜਵਾਨ ਹੋਈਆਂ ਕਣਕਾਂ ਦਾ the ripened wheat ਜੋ ਸਾਨੂੰ ਬੈਠਿਆਂ ਨਾ ਸਹੀ, ਲੇਟਿਆਂ ਤਾਂ ਢੱਕਦੀਆਂ ਰਹੀਆਂ। that covered us, if not while sitting at least when we lay down ਮੈਂ ਧੰਨਵਾਦ ਕਰਦਾਂ, ਸਰ੍ਹੋਂ ਦੇ ਨਿੱਕਿਆਂ ਫੁੱਲਾਂ ਦਾ I thank those small flowers of mustard ਜਿਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਮੈਂਨੂੰ ਕਈ ਵਾਰੀ ਬਖਸ਼ਿਆ ਮੌਕਾ that often granted me the boon ਪਰਾਗ ਕੇਸਰ ਤੇਰਿਆਂ ਵਾਲਾਂ ਚੋਂ ਝਾੜਨ ਦਾ। to shake out the saffron pollen from your hair ਮੈਂ ਮਨੁੱਖ ਹਾਂ, ਬਹੁਤ ਕੁਝ ਨਿੱਕਾ ਨਿੱਕਾ ਜੋੜ ਕੇ ਬਣਿਆ ਹਾਂ I am a human being – a man, who is made by joining lots of small small things ਤੇ ਉਹਨਾਂ ਸਾਰੀਆਂ ਚੀਜ਼ਾਂ ਲਈ and for all those things ਜਿਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਮੈਂਨੂੰ ਖਿੰਡਰ ਜਾਣ ਤੋਂ ਬਚਾਈ ਰੱਖਿਆ that prevented me from coming undone ਮੇਰੇ ਕੋਲ ਬਹੁਤ ਸ਼ੁਕਰਾਨਾ ਹੈ I have a lot to thank ਮੈਂ ਧੰਨਵਾਦ ਕਰਨਾ ਚਾਹੁੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ। I want to thank
ਪਿਆਰ ਕਰਨਾ ਬੜਾ ਹੀ ਸਹਿਜ ਹੈ It’s so simple to love ਜਿਵੇਂ ਕਿ ਜ਼ੁਲਮ ਨੂੰ ਸਹਾਰਦੇ ਹੋਇਆਂ as if while tolerating oppression ਆਪਣੇ ਆਪ ਨੂੰ ਲੜਾਈ ਲਈ ਤਿਆਰ ਕਰਨਾ, getting oneself ready for battle ਜਾਂ ਜਿਵੇਂ ਗੁਪਤਵਾਸ ਵਿਚ ਵੱਜੀ ਹੋਈ ਗੋਲੀ ਤੋਂ or as if shot by a bullet during secret exile ਕਿਸੇ ਛੰਨ ਅੰਦਰ ਪਏ ਰਹਿ ਕੇ in one moment while laying down ਜ਼ਖਮ ਦੇ ਭਰਨ ਦੀ ਕੋਈ ਕਲਪਣਾ ਕਰੇ imagining the healing of the wound ਪਿਆਰ ਕਰਨਾ falling in love ਤੇ ਲੜ ਸਕਣਾ and die fighting ਜੀਣ ਤੇ ਈਮਾਨ ਲੈ ਆਉਣਾ ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ, ਇਹੋ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹੈ। my friend, it’s like taking life and faith
ਧੁੱਪਾਂ ਵਾਂਗ ਧਰਤੀ ਤੇ ਖਿੜ ਜਾਣਾ, the way sunlight blooms on Earth ਤੇ ਫਿਰ ਗਲਵਕੜੀ ਵਿਚ ਸਿਮਟ ਜਾਣਾ, and then gets constricted in a cuddle ਬਰੂਦ ਵਾਂਗ ਭੜਕ ਉੱਠਣਾ the way it flares up like an explosive ਤੇ ਚੌਹਾਂ ਕੂਟਾਂ ਅੰਦਰ ਗੂੰਜ ਜਾਣਾ- and echoes inside four walls ਜੀਣ ਦਾ ਇਹੋ ਹੀ ਸਲੀਕਾ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹੈ। that’s the way to live life
ਪਿਆਰ ਕਰਨਾ ਤੇ ਜੀਣਾ ਉਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਨੂੰ ਕਦੇ ਨਹੀਂ ਆਉਣਾ to love and live doesn’t come easy to those ਜਿਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਨੂੰ ਜ਼ਿੰਦਗੀ ਨੇ ਬਾਣੀਏ ਬਣਾ ਦਿੱਤਾ। those whom life has made into traders ਜਿਸਮਾਂ ਦਾ ਰਿਸ਼ਤਾ ਸਮਝ ਸਕਣਾ- to understand the relationship between bodies ਖ਼ੁਸ਼ੀ ਤੇ ਨਫਰਤ ਵਿਚ ਕਦੇ ਵੀ ਲੀਕ ਨਾ ਖਿੱਚਣਾ never to draw a line between happiness and hate ਜ਼ਿੰਦਗੀ ਦੇ ਫੈਲੇ ਹੋਏ ਆਕਾਰ ਤੇ ਫ਼ਿਦਾ ਹੋਣਾ- to be smitten by the expanded size of life ਸਹਿਮ ਨੂੰ ਚੀਰ ਕੇ ਮਿਲਨਾ ਤੇ ਵਿਦਾ ਹੋਣਾ- to meet and part after piercing all restraints ਬੜਾ ਸੂਰਮਗਤੀ ਦਾ ਕੰਮ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹੈ ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ is the work of a great warrior, my friend ਮੈਂ ਹੁਣ ਵਿਦਾ ਹੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ। I now bid you farewell
ਤੂੰ ਭੁੱਲ ਜਾਵੀਂ you forget ਮੈਂ ਤੈਨੂੰ ਕਿਸ ਤਰ੍ਹਾਂ ਝਿੰਮਣਾਂ ਦੇ ਅੰਦਰ ਪਾਲ ਕੇ ਜਵਾਨ ਕੀਤਾ how I nurtured you into youth ਕਿ ਮੇਰੀਆਂ ਨਜ਼ਰਾਂ ਨੇ ਕੀ ਕੁਝ ਨਹੀਂ ਕੀਤਾ what all did my eyes not do ਤੇਰੇ ਨਕਸ਼ਾਂ ਦੀ ਧਾਰ ਬੰਨ੍ਹਣ ਵਿਚ, to chisel your features into place ਕਿ ਮੇਰੇ ਚੁੰਮਣਾਂ ਨੇ ਕਿੰਨਾ ਖ਼ੂਬਸੂਰਤ ਕਰ ਦਿੱਤਾ ਤੇਰਾ ਚਿਹਰਾ how my kisses beutified your face ਕਿ ਮੇਰੀਆਂ ਜੱਫੀਆਂ ਨੇ and my hugs ਤੇਰਾ ਮੋਮ ਵਰਗਾ ਪਿੰਡਾ ਕਿੰਜ ਸੰਚੇ ‘ਚ ਢਾਲਿਆ cast your wax-like body into shape
ਤੂੰ ਇਹ ਸਾਰਾ ਈ ਕੁਝ ਭੁੱਲ ਜਾਵੀਂ ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ you forget all this, my friend ਸਿਵਾ ਇਸ ਤੋਂ other than ਕਿ ਮੈਂਨੂੰ ਜੀਣ ਦੀ ਬਹੁਤ ਲੋਚਾ ਸੀ that I had a great desire to live ਕਿ ਮੈਂ ਗਲੇ ਤੀਕਰ ਜ਼ਿੰਦਗੀ ਵਿਚ ਡੁੱਬਣਾ ਚਾਹੁੰਦਾ ਸਾਂ that I wanted to drown neck-deep into life ਮੇਰੇ ਵੀ ਹਿੱਸੇ ਦਾ ਜੀਅ ਲੈਣਾ ਮੇਰੀ ਦੋਸਤ, live my share of life too, my friend ਮੇਰੇ ਵੀ ਹਿੱਸੇ ਦਾ ਜੀਅ ਲੈਣਾ। live my share of life too, my friend
ਮੈਂ ਹੁਣ ਵਿਦਾ ਹੰਦਾ ਹਾਂ। I now take your leave, my friend
क्या बूद-ओ-बाश पूछो हो पूरब के साकिनो हम को ग़रीब जान के हँस हँस पुकार के दिल्ली जो एक शहर था आलम में इंतिख़ाब रहते थे मुंतख़ब ही जहाँ रोज़गार के उस को फ़लक ने लूट के बरबाद कर दिया हम रहने वाले हैं उसी उजड़े दयार के
kyaa buudo-baash puuchho ho puurab ke saakino hum ko gariib jaan ke has has pukaar ke Dilli jo ek shahar thaa aalam mai intikhaab rahte the muntakhib hii jahaan rozgaar ke us ko falak ne luuT ke viiraan kar diyaa ham rahne vaale hain usii ujray dayaar ke
You the residents of the east who ask me where I come from You who mock me, considering me poor Delhi, which was once a select place of the world Where only the chosen professionals lived The heavens have looted it, made it a desolation I am a resident of that deserted wilderness
– Mir Taqi Mir
दिल व दिल्ली दोनों अगर हैं खराब पर कुछ लुत्फ उस उजड़े घर में भी है
dil va dilli dono agar hai kharaab par kuchh lutf us ujRe ghar mein bhi hai
– Mir Taqi Mir
दिल्ली के न थे कूचे औराक़-ए-मुसव्वर थे जो शक्ल नज़र आई तस्वीर नज़र आई
dillii ke naa the kuuche, auraaq-e-musawwar the jo shaql nazar aai, tasviir nazar aaii
Not the streets of Delhi, these were works of art Anything that was visible looked like a painting
– Mir Taqi Mir
दीदा-ए गिर्याँ हमारा नहर है दिल ख़राबा जैसे दिल्ली शहर है
our weeping eyes are a water-channel the heart is a ruin like the city of Delhi
– Mir Taqi Mir
दिल्ली में आज भीख भी मिलती नहीं उंहें था कल तलक दिमाग़ जिंहें ताज‐ओ‐तख़्त का
in Delhi, today, they don’t receive even alms, they who up till yesterday had a mind for crown and throne
– Mir Taqi Mir
Dil-o-Dilli donon agar hain kharaab P’a kuchh lutf is ujde ghar mein bhi hain
My heart and my Delhi may both be in ruins There are still some delights in this ravaged home.
– Mir Taqi Mir
इन दिनों गरचे दकन में है बड़ी क़द्र-ए-सुख़न कौन जाए ‘ज़ौक़’ पर दिल्ली की गलियाँ छोड़ कर
in dinoN garche dakkan meN hai baRii qadr-e-suḳhan kaun jaa.e ‘zauq’ par dillī kī galiyaaN chhoḌ kar
these days, though poetry is greatly valued in the Deccan but who, Zauq, should now leave these streets of Delhi
Sheikh Ibrahim Zauq
tazkira dehli-e-marhūm kā ai dost na chheḌ na sunā jā.egā ham se ye fasāna hargiz
Don’t start the story of the deceased Delhi, O friend We definitely won’t be able to bear hearing this story
–Altaf Hussain Hali
है अब इस मामूरे में क़हत-ए ग़म-ए उलफ़त असद हम ने ये माना कि दिल्ली में रहे खावेंगे क्या
hai ab is maamuure meN qaht-e Gam-e ulfat asad ham ne yih maanaa kih dillii meN rahe khaaveNge kyaa
there is now in this town a dearth scarcity of the grief of love, Asad Granted that we would remain in Delhi – what will we eat?
sane sej de beriaaN, luddaN dittiaaN rohr, ** sane daliaan peengh aj, piplaaN dittii toR **
jitthe vajdii sii phuuk pyaar dii, ve oh vanjhalii gayii guaach** raanjhe de sab viir aaj, bhul gaye usadii jaach**
aj dhartii te lahuu varsiyaa, kabraaN paiaaN chon, preet diaaN shaahzaadiaaN, aaj vichch mazaaraaN ron
aaj sabh ‘Qaido’ ban gaye, husn ishq de chor aaj kitthoN liaaiye labbh ke waris shah ik hor
aaj aakhaN waris shah nuuN, kitoN kabraan vichchoN bol, te aaj kitaab-e ishq daa, koii aglaa varkaa phol
I ask Waris Shah (1) today to speak up somewhere from the graves And to turn to a new page of the book of love
Once, when one daughter of Punjab wept, you had hit out by writing Today a million daughters weep and implore you, Waris Shah:
Arise, O friend of the distressed! Arise, see the plight of your Punjab Corpses lie strewn in the fields and Chenab is filled with blood
Someone has mixed poison into the waters of the five rivers And that water is now irrigating the land
This fertile land is sprouting poison, the horizon has turned scarlet-red and the curses fly to the sky
The poisonous wind that passes through the forest Has transformed each bamboo-shoot into a cobra
The first snake-bite made the snake-charmer forget his spell And the subsequent bites have addicted the people
They have been bitten again and again And in no time, the limbs of Punjab have turned blue
Silenced are the songs in the streets, the thread of the spinning-wheels snapped The girls have fled the courtyards, the whirr of the spinning wheels halted
The wedding beds and the boats have been thrown away Today the branch with the swing on the Pipal has broken
The flute through which blew the breath of love is lost All the brothers of Ranjha today have forgotten this art
Blood rained on the earth and the graves are leaking And the princesses of love are crying amidst the tombs
All have become Qaidon (2) today, thieves of beauty and love Today, wherefrom shall we get yet another Warish Shah?
I ask Waris Shah today to speak up somewhere from the graves And to turn to a new page of the book of love
Waris Shah wrote the celebrated Punjabi classic Heer Ranjha. Many verses attributed to him have been shown to be later additions and accretions.
Qaidon, the uncle of Heer, was the villain, who came in the way of the lovers.
When Fahmida Riaz recited this in JNU in the early 2000, one could perhaps have quibbled that things weren’t as bad as Pakistan in India and that she was perhaps being alarmist, or getting carried away. The last two decades have made her prescient poem more and more relevant for our times.
तुम बिल्कुल हम जैसे निकले | You turned out just like us
तुम बिल्कुल हम जैसे निकले | You turned out just like us अब तक कहां छुपे थे भाई? | Where were you hiding so far, brother? वह मूरखता, वह घामड़पन | That stupidity, that arrogance जिसमें हमने सदी गंवाई | In which we lost a century आखिर पहुंची द्वार तुम्हारे | Afterall has reached your door अरे बधाई, बहुत बधाई | O congratulations, many congratulations
भूत धरम का नाच रहा है | The ghost of religion is dancing कायम हिन्दू राज करोगे? | You will establish a Hindu rule? सारे उल्टे काज करोगे? | You will do all misdeeds अपना चमन नाराज करोगे? | You will ravage your own garden?
तुम भी बैठे करोगे सोचा, | You too would sit and ponder पूरी है वैसी तैयारी, | The preparation seems complete: कौन है हिन्दू कौन नहीं है | Who is Hindu, who is not तुम भी करोगे फतवे जारी | You too will issue edicts
वहां भी मुश्किल होगा जीना | There too it will be difficult to live दांतो आ जाएगा पसीना | Sweating through your teeth जैसे-तैसे कटा करेगी | Somehow or other managing to live वहां भी सबकी सांस घुटेगी | There too everyone would gasp for breath
माथे पर सिंदूर की रेखा | Sindoor on your forehead कुछ भी नहीं पड़ोस से सीखा! | You learnt just nothing from your neighbourhood क्या हमने दुर्दशा बनायी | What a mess we made! कुछ भी तुमको नज़र न आयी? | And yet you saw nothing?
भाड़ में जाये शिक्षा-विक्षा, | Let education-learning go to hell अब जाहिलपन के गुन गाना, | Now sing songs to barbarous ignorance आगे गड्ढा है यह मत देखो | Don’t look at the gaping hole ahead वापस लाओ गया जमाना | Bring back the bygone time
हम जिन पर रोया करते थे | What would make us cry तुम ने भी वह बात अब की है | Is what you too have now done बहुत मलाल है हमको, लेकिन | We are full of grief, but हा हा हा हा हो हो ही ही | Ha ha ha ha ho ho hee hee
कल दुख से सोचा करती थी | Yesterday I used to think with sadness सोच के बहुत हँसी आज आयी | It made me laugh a lot today तुम बिल्कुल हम जैसे निकले | You turned out just like us
हम दो कौम नहीं थे भाई | We were not two communities, brother मश्क करो तुम, आ जाएगा | Practice and you will learn it too:
उल्टे पांवों चलते जाना, | Just keep walking backwards दूजा ध्यान न मन में आए | Don’t allow anohter thought to your mind बस पीछे ही नज़र जमाना | Just keep your eyes firmly on the past एक जाप-सा करते जाओ, | And keep chanting बारम्बार यह ही दोहराओ | Repeat over and over again कितना वीर महान था भारत! | How brave and great was India! कैसा आलीशान था भारत! | How glorious and grand was India!
tum bilkul hum jaisey nikley ab tak kahaN chhupe the bhai voh moorkhta, voh ghaamarpan jis mein hum ne sadi ganwai aakhir pahunchi dwaar tumhaarey arre badhai bohot badhaipreyt dharam ka naach rahaa hai qayam Hindu raaj karoge? saarey ultey kaaj karogay apna chaman daraaj karogeytum bhee baithey karogey sochaa poori hai waisi tayyari kaun hai Hindu, kaun naheeN hai tum bhi karogay fatwe jaarihoga kathin yahaN bhi jeena raatoN aa jayega paseenajaisi taisi kata karegi yahan bhi sabki saans ghutegi kal dukh se socha karti thi soch ke bohot hansi aaj aee, tum bilkul hum jaise nikleHum do qaum nahin the bhai!bhaar mein jaaye shiksha vikshaab jaahilpan ke gun gaana.aage gadha hai yeh mat dekhowapas laao gaya zamana bhasht karo tum aajayega ulte paaon chalte jaana dhyaan na mann mein dooja aaye bas peeche hi nazar jamanaek jaap saa kartey jao varam var yahi dohrao kitna veer mahaan tha Bharat kaisa alishaan tha bharat phir tum log pohonch jaogay bas parlok pohonch jaaogay hum toh hain pehle se wahan par tum bhi samay nikalte rehna ab jis nark mein jaao wahan se chitthi vitthi daalte rehna
Aj da din vii aenweill langyaa koii vii kam naa hoya purab valoN chaRRyaa suraj pascham vaang khaloyaa naa milyaa mai halqat nuuN naa mai yaad khuda nuu kitaa naa mai paRii namaaz te naa mai jaam sharaab daa piitaa khushi naa gham koii kol naa aayaa naa hasyaa naa royaa Aj da din vii aenweill langyaa
hamesha der kar detā huuñ maiñ har kaam karne meñ zarūrī baat kahnī ho koī va.ada nibhānā ho use āvāz denī ho use vāpas bulānā ho hamesha der kar detā huuñ maiñ madad karnī ho us kī yaar kī Dhāras bañdhānā ho bahut derīna rastoñ par kisī se milne jaanā ho hamesha der kar detā huuñ maiñ badalte mausamoñ kī sair meñ dil ko lagānā ho kisī ko yaad rakhnā ho kisī ko bhuul jaanā ho hamesha der kar detā huuñ maiñ kisī ko maut se pahle kisī ġham se bachānā ho haqīqat aur thī kuchh us ko jā ke ye batānā ho hamesha der kar detā huuñ maiñ har kaam karne meñ.
tum mire paas raho mire qātil, mire dildār mire paas raho jis ghaḌī raat chale, āsmānoñ kā lahū pī ke siyah raat chale marham-e-mushk liye, nashtar-e-almās liye bain kartī huī hañstī huī gaatī nikle dard ke kāsnī pāzeb bajātī nikle jis ghaḌī sīnoñ meñ Duube hue dil āstīnoñ meñ nihāñ hāthoñ kī rah takne lage aas liye aur bachchoñ ke bilakne kī tarah qulaul-e-mai bahr-e-nā-sūdgī machle to manā.e na mane jab koī baat banā.e na bane jab na koī baat chale jab ghaḌī raat chale jis ghaḌī mātamī sunsān siyah raat chale paas raho mire qātil, mire dildār mire paas raho
Victor Kiernen
Be near me— My torment, my darling, be near me That hour when the night comes, Black night that has drunk heaven’s blood comes With salve of musk-perfume, with diamond-tipped lancet, With wailing, with jesting, with music, With grief like a clash of blue anklets— When, hoping once more, hearts deep-sunk in men's bosoms Wait, watch for the hands whose wide sleeves still Enfold them,
Till wine's gurgling sound is a sobbing of infants Unsatisfied, fretful, no soothing will silence, — No taking thought prospers, No thought serves; — That hour when the night comes, That hour when black night, drear, forlorn, comes Be near me. My torment, my darling, be near me!
You be near me, My destroyer , my sweetheart, be near me — At the hour when night comes, When dark night having drunk the blood of the heavens comes Bearing the salve of musk, bearing the lancet of diamond , Comes out making lamentation, laughing, singing, Comes out sounding blue-grey anklets of pain; At the hour when hearts sunk in breasts Have begun to watch out for hands hidden in sleeves, With hope, And gurgling of wine, like a sobbing of children, Because of frustration is fractious, and though you may soothe it will not be soothed: When whatever thing you try to bring about will not be brought about. When nothing succeeds: At the hour when night comes, At the hour when mournful, dreary, black night comes Be near. My destroyer, my sweetheart, be near me.
gul huī jaatī hai afsurda sulagtī huī shaam Evening , numb and smouldering, is being extinguished, Dhul ke niklegī abhī chashma-e-mahtāb se raat Soon night will emerge, bathed, from the fountain of the moon, aur mushtāq nigāhoñ kī sunī jā.egī And the eyes’ desire will be fulfilled, aur un hāthoñ se mas hoñge ye tarse hue haat And these thirsting hands will touch those hands! un kā āñchal hai ki ruḳhsār ki pairāhan hai Is it the border of her veil, or cheek, or is it her mantle? kuchh to hai jis se huī jaatī hai chilman rañgīñ Something there is by which the curtain is being tinged with colour. jaane us zulf kī mauhūm ghanī chhāñv meñ There is no knowing whether in the hazy thick shade of that tress TimTimātā hai vo āveza abhī tak ki nahīñ That earring is still twinkling or not. aaj phir husn-e-dil-ārā kī vahī dhaj hogī Today again there will be the same style of captivating beauty, vahī ḳhvābīda sī āñkheñ vahī kājal kī lakīr Those same as-if-sleeping eye, that line of lampblack rañg-e-rukHsār pe halkā sā vo ġhāze kā ġhubār On the colour of the cheek that faint cloud of powder, sandalī haath pe dhuñdlī sī hinā kī tahrīr On the sandalwood-coloured hand the misty tracery of henna. apne afkār kī ash.ār kī duniyā hai yahī This only is the world of my thoughts, my verses, jān-e-mazmūñ hai yahī shāhid-e-ma.anī hai yahī This only is the soul of my meaning, this only is the darling of my intent.
aaj tak surḳh o siyah sadiyoñ ke saa.e ke tale Down to today, under the shadow of red and black centuries, aadam o havvā kī aulād pe kyā guzrī hai? What has befallen the offspring of Adam and Eve? maut aur ziist kī rozāna saf-ārā.ī meñ In the daily battle-array of death and life, ham pe kyā guzregī ajdād pe kyā guzrī hai? What will befall us, what has befallen our ancestors? in damakte hue shahroñ kī farāvāñ maḳhlūq The multitudinous creatures of these glittering cities, kyuuñ faqat marne kī hasrat meñ jiyā kartī hai Why do they keep living only in desire of death? ye hasīñ khet phaTā paḌtā hai jauban jin kaa! These lovely fields, whose bloom is bursting out, kis liye in meñ faqat bhuuk ugā kartī hai Why does only hunger keep growing in them?
ye har ik samt pur-asrār kaḌī dīvāreñ These harsh walls on every side, full of mysteries, jal-bujhe jin meñ hazāroñ kī javānī ke charāġh In which the lamps of the youth of thousands have burned away, ye har ik gaam pe un ḳhvāboñ kī maqtal-gāheñ These execution-grounds, at every step , of those dreams jin ke partav se charāġhāñ haiñ hazāroñ ke dimāġh By whose radiance the minds of thousands are lamps ye bhī haiñ aise ka.ī aur bhī mazmūñ hoñge These also are themes , others also like them there may be. lekin us shoḳh ke āhista se khulte hue hoñT But the slowly opening lips of that saucy one! haa.e us jism ke kambaḳht dil-āvez ḳhutūt Ah, the cursed alluring lines of that body!
aap hī kahiye kahīñ aise bhī afsūñ hoñge You yourself say, will there be such sorceries anywhere else? apnā mauzu-e-suḳhan un ke sivā aur nahīñ My theme of poetry is nothing else except these, tab.a-e-shā.er kā vatan un ke sivā aur nahīñ The native land of the poet’s nature is nothing else except these.
Literal translation above is by Victor Kiernen, as is the poetic one below.
Victor Kiernen
Twilight is burning out and turning chill, Night comes fresh-bathed from where the moon’s spring flows; And now—these eager eyes shall have their will, These avid fingers feel the touch of those! Is that her fringed veil, is it her face, her dress, Behind the hanging gauze, that makes it glow— And in the vague mist of that rippling tress Does the bright earring twinkle still, or no? Subtly once more her loveliness will speak, Those pencilled lids, those languorous eyes, again; Dusted with that faint powder, her pink cheek, On her pale hand the henna’s delicate stain. Here is the chosen world of rhyme and dream My muse inhabits, here her darling theme! —Under the black and blood-red murk of ages How has it fared with Eve’s sons all these years? How shall we fare, where daily combat rages Of death with life? how fared our forefathers? Why must those gay streets’ swarming progeny So draw breath that to die is all they crave? In those rich fields bursting with bounty, why Must no ripe harvest except hunger wave? Walls dark with secrets frown on every side, That countless lamps of youth have sunk behind; Everywhere scaffolds on which dreams have died That lit unnumbered candles in man’s mind. —These too are subjects; more there are;—but oh, Those limbs that curve so fatally ravishingly! Oh that sweet wretch, those lips parting so slow— Tell me where else such witchery could be! No other theme will ever fit my rhyme; Nowhere but here is poetry’s native clime.
Juvenilia 