Perfume Suffuses The World Here In The Mango | Umāpatidhara

सुगन्धिः कोऽपि स्यात्कुसुमसमये कोऽपि विटपी
शलाटौ सामोदः फलपरिणतौ कापि सुरभिः ।
प्रसूनप्रारम्भात्प्रभृति फलपाकावधि पुन
र्जगत्येकत्रैव स्फुरति सहकारे परिमलः ॥
उमापतिधरस्य

Some grow fragrant when buds push out.
Some sweeten as unripe tree-fruits.
Some scent the air in hung ripeness.
No sooner have the fruits begun to ripen again
Than perfume suffuses the world here in the mango.

— Umāpatidhara (1100s)

Agha Shahid Ali | Ghazal: Rumours of Spring

Adapted from Makhdoom Mohiuddin
Rumours of spring—they last from dawn till dusk—
All eyes decipher branches for blossoms.

Your legend now equals our thirst, Beloved —
Your word has spread across broken nations.

Wherever each night I’m lost to myself,
they hear from me of Her—of Her alone.

Hope extinguished, now nothing else remains—
only nights of anguish, these ochre dawns.

The garden’s eyes well up, the flower’s heart beats
When we speak, just speak O! Forever.

So it has, and forever it should last—
this rumour the Beloved shares our pain.

– Agha Shahid Ali

Makhdoom’s ghazal

sahar se raat kī sargoshiyāñ bahār kī baat
jahāñ meñ aam huī chashm-e-intizār kī baat

diloñ kī tishnagī jitnī diloñ kā ġham jitnā
usī qadar hai zamāne meñ husn-e-yār kī baat

jahāñ bhī baiThe haiñ jis jā bhī raat mai pī hai
unhī kī āñkhoñ ke qisse unhī ke pyaar kī baat

chaman kī aañkh bhar aa.ī kalī kā dil dhaḌkā
laboñ pe aa.ī hai jab bhī kisī qarār kī baat

ye zard zard ujāle ye raat raat kā dard
yahī to rah ga.ī ab jān-e-be-qarār kī baat

tamām umr chalī hai tamām umr chale
ilāhī ḳhatm na ho yār-e-ġham-gusār kī baat

सहर से रात की सरगोशियाँ बहार की बात
जहाँ में आम हुई चश्म-ए-इन्तिज़ार की बात

दिलों की तिश्नगी जितनी दिलों का ग़म जितना
उसी क़दर है ज़माने में हुस्न-ए-यार की बात

जहाँ भी बैठे हैं जिस जा भी रात मय पी है
उन्ही की आँखों के क़िस्से उन्ही के प्यार की बात

चमन की आँख भर आई कली का दिल धड़का
लबों पे आई है जब भी किसी क़रार की बात

ये ज़र्द ज़र्द उजाले ये रात रात का दर्द
यही तो रह गई अब जान-ए-बे-क़रार की बात

तमाम उम्र चली है तमाम उम्र चले
इलाही ख़त्म न हो यार-ए-ग़म-गुसार की बात

Makhdoom Mohiuddin

Basant/Spring

वही आदर्श मौसम
और मन में कुछ टूटता-सा :
अनुभव से जानता हूँ कि यह वसंत है

That very same
ideal season
And something
breaking in the heart
Experience tells me:
this is spring

– Raghuvir Sahay

 

Bahaar Aayi

bahār aa.ī to jaise yak-bār
lauT aa.e haiñ phir adam se
vo ḳhvāb saare shabāb saare
jo tere hoñToñ pe mar-miTe the
jo miT ke har baar phir jiye the
nikhar ga.e haiñ gulāb saare
jo terī yādoñ se mushkbū haiñ
jo tere ushshāq kā lahū haiñ
ubal paḌe haiñ azaab saare
malāl-e-ahvāl-e-dostāñ bhī
ḳhumār-e-āġhosh-e-mah-vashāñ bhī
ġhubār-e-ḳhātir ke baab saare
tire hamāre
savāl saare javāb saare
bahār aa.ī to khul ga.e haiñ
na.e sire se hisāb saare

बहार आई तो जैसे यकबार
लौट आए हैं फिर अदम से
वो ख़्वाब सारे शबाब सारे
जो तेरे होंटों पे मर मिटे थे
जो मिट के हर बार फिर जिये थे
निखर गए हैं गुलाब सारे
जो तेरी यादों में मुश्कबू हैं
जो तेरे उश्शाक़ का लहू हैं
उबल पड़े हैं अज़ाब सारे
मलाल ए अहवाल दोस्तां भी
ख़ुमार ए आग़ोश ए महवशां भी
ग़ुबार ए ख़ातिर के बाब सारे
तेरे हमारे
सवाल सारे जवाब सारे
बहार आई तो खिल गए हैं
नए सिरे से हिसाब सारे

bahār aa.ī to jaise yak-bār
Spring is here as if suddenly

lauT aa.e haiñ phir adam se
back from nowhere are
 
vo ḳhvāb saare shabāb saare
all those dreams, all those beauties of youth
 
jo tere hoñToñ pe mar-miTe the
those who died longing for your lips
 
jo miT ke har baar phir jiye the
those who came alive every time after being destroyed
 
nikhar ga.e haiñ gulāb saare
all the roses glisten
 
jo terī yādoñ se mushkbū haiñ
those that are fragrant with the musk of your memory
 
jo tere ushshāq kā lahū haiñ
those that are the lifeblood of your lovers
 
ubal paḌe haiñ azaab saare
all the torments have boiled over
 
malāl-e-ahvāl-e-dostāñ bhī
the anguish and apprehensions about friends
 
ḳhumār-e-āġhosh-e-mah-vashāñ bhī
the intoxication of warm embraces
in the beauty of the moon
 
ġhubār-e-ḳhātir ke baab saare
in our dust of memories
 
tire hamāre
yours and mine
 
savāl saare javāb saare
all the questions, all the answers
 
bahār aa.ī to khul ga.e haiñ
have opened up again, with spring
 
na.e sire se hisāb saare
all the old accounts anew 


So my literal, almost word-by-word clunky translation with words looked up in the dictionary goes something like this:
 

Spring is here as if suddenly
back from nowhere
are all those dreams, all those beauties of youth
those who died longing for your lips
those who came alive every time after being destroyed
all these roses glisten
fragrant with the musk of your memory
the lifeblood of your lovers
all the torments have boiled over
the anguish and apprehensions about friends
the intoxication of warm embraces
in the beauty of the moon
in this dust of memories
yours and mine
all the questions, all the answers
have opened up again, with spring
all the old accounts anew 

(Hurried translation draft by SD)

Agha Shahid Ali takes liberties and transcreates this as follows:

It Is Spring, Again

It is spring, And the ledger is opened again.
From the abyss where they were frozen,
those days suddenly return, those days
that passed away from your lips, that died
with all our kisses, unaccounted.
The roses return: they are your fragrance;
they are the blood of your lovers.
Sorrow returns. I go through my pain
and the agony of friends still lost in the memory
of moon-silver arms, the caresses of vanished women.
I go through page after page. There are no answers,
and spring has come once again asking
the same questions, reopening account after account.