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Yaad
Dasht-e-tanhaee maiN ai jaan-e-jahaaN larzaaN hai
Teri aavaaz kay saaey, teray hontoN kay saraab
Dasht-e-tanhaee maiN dooree kay khas-o-khaak talay
Khil rahay haiN teray pehloo kay saman or gulaab
Uth rahee hai kaheeN qurbat say teri saaNs kee aanch
Apnee khushboo maiN sulagti hooee madham madham
Door ufaq paar chamaktee hooee qatra qatra
Gir rahee hai teri dildaar nazar kee shabnam
Is qadar payaar say ai jaan-e-jahaaN rakha hai
Dil kay rukhsaar pay is waqt teri yaad naiN haath
YooN gumaaN hota hai gerchay hai abhee subh-e-firaaq
Dhal gaya hijr ka din aa bhi gaee wasl ki raat
--
Rough draft by Sundeep Dougal
Memory
In the wilderness of loneliness, O loved one, tremble
Silhouettes of your voice, mirages of your lips
In the wilderness of loneliness, under the straw and ash of distance
Blosssom jasmines and roses of your nearness
From somewhere nearby, rises the warmth of your breath
Smouldering in its scent leisurly, lingeringly
Faraway, across the horizon, shining drop by drop
Falls the dew of your heartmoving glance
So much with love, O loved one, has your memory placed
Its hand, right now, on the face of my heart
It seems, although it's still the morning of parting,
The day of separation is over, the night of meeting is here.
subhe-aazaadii
august, 1947
ye daG-daG ujaalaa, ye shab-gaziidaa sahar
wo intezaar tha jiskaa, ye wo sahar to nahii.n
ye wo sahar to nahii.n jiskii aarzoo lekar
chale the yaar ke: mil jayegi kahii.n na kahii.n
falak ke dashth me.n taaro.n kii aakhirii manzil
kahi.n to hogaa shab-e-sustmoujh kaa saahil
kahi.n ti jake rukegaa safiin-e-gam-e-dil
jawa.N lahuu kii pur asraar shahraaho.n se
chale jo yaar to daaman pe kitne haath paDe
dayaar-e-husn kii be-sabra khwaabgaaho.n se
pukaarti rahii.n baahe.n, badan bulate rahe
bahut azeez thii lekin ruKh-e-sahar kii lagan
bahut karii.n tha hasiinane noor kaa daaman
subuk-subuk thi tamanna dabi-dabi thi thakan
sunaa hai ho bhi chukaa hai firaaq-e-zulmat-e-noor
sunaa hai ho bhi chukaa hai wisaal-e-manzil-o-gaam
badal chukaa hai bahut ahal-e-dard kaa dastoor
nishaat-e-wasl halaal-o-azaab-e-hijr-e-haraam
jigar kii aag, nazar kii umang, dil kii jalan
kisii pe chaar:e-hijra.N kaa kuchch asar hii nahii.n
kahaa.N se aayii nigaar-e-sabaa kidhhar ko gaii
abhii chiraaG-e-sar-e-rah ko kuchch khabar hii nahii.n
abhii garaanii-e-shab me.n kamii nahi.n aaii
nazaat-e-deed'h-o-dil kii ghadii nahi.n aaii
chale chalo ki wah ma.nzil abhi nahi.n aaii
--
Rough draft by Sundeep Dougal
The Dawn of Freedom,
August 1947
This scarred, marred brightness, this bitten-by-night dawn -
The one that was awaited, surely, this is not that dawn.
This is not the dawn yearning for which
Had we set out, friends, hoping to find sometime, somewhere
The final destination of stars in the wilderness of the sky.
Somewhere, at least, must be a shore for the languid waves of the night,
Somewhere at least must anchor the sad boat of the heart.
On the sensuous, secretive streets of young blood,
When we set out, friends, who knows how many hands tugged at the sleeves
From the impatient dreamlands of beauty's pleasure-houses,
Arms persistently reached out and bodies beckoned,
But very dear was the longing for mere dawn,
Very near was the hem of beauteous light:
Desires, delicate and light; languor, suppressed and slight.
It's claimed that darkness and light are already separated,
It's claimed that the seeking and the sought have already united,
That the lot of those who suffered has already changed a lot:
The pleasure of union is allowed, torment of separation is banished.
Fire in the belly, longing in the eyes, burning in the heart:
None is affected at all by the anguish of separation
From where came that sweet breeze and where it went,
The street lamp has no inkling yet
The heaviness of the night has not lifted yet
The moment of salvation for the heart and the eyes has not arrived yet
du’aa
aaiye haath uThaayeN ham bhii
ham jinheN rasm-e-du’aa yaad nahiiN
ham jinheN soz-e-muhabbat ke sivaa
ko’ii but, ko’ii Khudaa yaad nahiiN
aaiye arz guzaareN ke nigaar-e-hastii
zehr-e-imroz meN shiiriini-e-fardaa bhar de
voh jinheN taab-garaaN-baarii-e-ayyaam nahiiN
un ki palkoN pe shab-o-roz ko halkaa kar de
jin kii aaNkhoN ko rukh-e-subh ka yaaraa bhii nahiiN
un kii raatoN meN ko’ii shamaa munavvar kar de
jin ke qadmoN ko kisii rah ka sahaara bhii nahiiN
un kii nazroN pe ko’ii raah ujaagar kar de
jinkaa diiN pairavi-e-kazbo-riyaa hai un ko
himmat-e-kufr mile, jurrat-e-tehqiiq mile
jin ke sar muntazir-e-tegh-e-jafaa haiN un ko
dast-e-qaatil ko jhaTak dene ki taufiiq mile
ishq ka sarr-e-nihaaN jaan tapaaN hai jis se
aaj iqraar kareN aur tapish miT jaaye
harf-e-haq dil meiN khaTakta hai jo kaNTe kii tarah
aaj izhaar kareN or khalish miT jaaye
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
14th August 1967
Rough draft by Sundeep Dougal
Prayer
Come, let us too lift our hands
We, who do not remember the ritual of prayers
We, who other than the fire of love
Do not recall any idol, any god
Come, let us pray that the life's beloved
Suffuses tomorrow's sweetness into today's poison
Makes day and night sit lightly on the eyelashes
Of those who don't have the strength to bear the burden of time
Those, who can't see the face of dawn
May a flame light up their nights
Those, whose steps aren't aided by a path
May a way ahead be illumined to their eyes
Those who believe in justifying deceit and hypocrisy
May they get the courage to defy, the daring to seek
May those whose heads await the sword of tyrrany
Get the strength to snap away the hand of the murderer
The hidden secret of love which has inflamed the soul
Today own up to it and let the fever abate
The word of truth that pricks the heart like a thorn
Accept it today so that the itching be gone
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
14th August 1967
guloN
meN raNg bhare
gulo.n me.n rang bhare, baad-e-naubahaar chale
chale bhii aao ki gulshan kaa karobaar chale
qafas udaas hai yaaro, sabaa se kuchh to kaho
kahii.n to bahr-e-Khudaa aaj zikr-e-yaar chale
kabhii to subah tere kunj-e-lab se ho aaghaaz
kabhii to shab sar-e-kaakul se mushkbaar chale
ba.Daa hai dard kaa rishtaa, ye dil Gariib sahii
tumhaare naam pe aaye.nge Gam_gusaar chale
jo ham pe guzarii so guzarii magar shab-e-hijraa.N
hamaare ashk terii aaqabat sa.Nwaar chale
huzuur-e-yaar huii daftar-e-junuu.N kii talab
girah me.n leke garebaa.N kaa taar taar chale
maqaam 'Faiz' koii raah me.n jachaa hii nahii.n
jo kuu-e-yaar se nikale to suu-e-daar chale
A very hurried, rough draft
The flowers are filled with colour, the fresh spring breeze blows
come on over as well so the garden may carry on with its affairs
The cage is sad, friends, say something at least to the gentle breeze
somewhere at least, for God's sake, today let there be a mention of the
beloved
Sometimes at least let the day begin with the corner of your lip
Sometimes at least let the night be fragrant with the ends of your
tresses
The bond with pain is deep, though this heart is poor
They will come for the sake of your name, these departing comforters
What I endured is over but o, the night of separation
My tears leave you prepared for after-life
The account of my madness was called before the beloved
I take along tied in a knot the tattered shreds of my clothes
Faiz, I did not find any destination suitable on the way
When I left the street of the beloved, I proceeded towards the gallows
rang hai dil kaa
mere
tum jo naa aa'e the to har chiiz vahii thii kih jo hai
aasmaaN hadd-e-nazar, raahguzar raahguzar, shiishaah-e-mai,
shiishaah-e-mai
aur ab shiishaah-e-mai, raahguzar, rang-e-falak
rang hai dil kaa mire, "xuun-e-jigar hone tak"
champaa'i rang kabhii, raahat-e-diidaar kaa rang
sur'ma'ii rang kabhii, saa'at-e-bezaar kaa rang
zard pattoN kaa xas-o-xaar kaa rang
surkh phuuloN kaa, dahakte hu'e gulzaar kaa rang
zahar kaa rang, lahuu rang. shab-e-taar kaa rang
aasmaaN, rahguzar, shiishaah-e-mai
koii bhiigaa hu'aa daaman, ko'ii dukhtii hu'ii rag
ko'ii har lahzaah badaltaa hu'aa aa'iinaah hai
ab jo aa'e ho to Thahro kih koii rang, koii rut ko'ii shai
ek jagah par Thahre
phir se ik baar har ik chiiz vahii ho ke jo hai
aasmaaN hadd-e-nazar, rahguzar rahguzar, shiishaah-e-mai,
shiishaah-e-mai
By Frances W. Pritchett
The
Sky, the Road, the Glass of Wine: On Translating Faiz
It’s the Color of My Heart
Before you came everything
was what it is:
the sky the limit of sight
the road a road, the glass of wine
a glass of wine.
And now the glass of wine, the road, the color of the sky
are the color of my heart
while it breaks itself down
into blood.
Sometimes a gold color—a color of eyes’ delight
that sooty color, the color of disgust
the color of dry leaves, straw, thorns
the color of red flowers in a blazing garden
poison color, blood color, the color of black night.
The sky, the road, the glass of wine
are a sodden cloak, an aching vein,
a mirror changing every moment.
Now that you’ve come, stay—let some color, season, thing
stay in place.
One more time let everything
be what it is:
the sky the limit of sight
the road a road, the glass of wine
a glass of wine.
--
By Victor Kiernan
Poems by Faiz Pg 252-255
Before You Came
Before you came, all things were what they are—
The sky sight’s boundary, the road a road,
The glass of wine a glass of wine; since then,
Road, wineglass, colour of heaven, all have taken
The hues of this heart ready to melt into blood—
Now golden, as the solace of meeting is,
Now grey, the livery of despondent hours,
Or tint of yellowed leaves, of garden trash,
Or scarlet petal, a flowerbed all ablaze:
Colour of poison, colour of blood, or shade
Of sable night. Sky, highroad, glass of wine—
The first a tear-stained robe, the next a nerve
Aching, the last a mirror momently altering....
Now you have come, stay here, and let some colour,
Some month, some anything, keep its own place,
And all things once again be their own selves,
The sky sight’s bound, the road a road, wine wine.
--
By Naomi Lazard
The True Subject Pg 32-35
Before You Came
Before you came things were just what they were:
the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed,
the limit of what could be seen,
a glass of wine was no more than a glass of wine.
With you the world took on the spectrum
radiating from my heart: your eyes gold
as they open to me, slate the color
that falls each time I lost all hope.
With your advent roses burst into flame:
you were the artist of dried-up leaves, sorceress
who flicked her wrist to change dust into soot.
You lacquered the night black.
As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine:
one was my tear-drenched shirt,
the other an aching nerve,
the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing.
Now you are here again—stay with me.
This time things will fall into place;
the road can be the road,
the sky nothing but sky;
the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine.
--
By Agha Shahid Ali
The Rebel’s Silhouette Pg 56-57
Before You Came
Before you came,
things were as they should be:
the sky was the dead-end of sight,
the road was just a road, wine merely wine.
Now everything is like my heart,
a color at the edge of blood:
the grey of your absence, the color of poison, or thorns,
the gold when we meet, the season ablaze,
the yellow of autumn, the red of flowers, of flames,
and the black when you cover the earth
with the coal of dead fires.
And the sky, the road, the glass of wine?
The sky is a shirt wet with tears,
the road a vein about to break,
and the glass of wine a mirror in which
the sky, the road, the world keep changing.
Don’t leave now that you’re here—
Stay. So the world may become like itself again:
so the sky may be the sky,
the road a road,
and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine.
--
By Shiv K. Kumar
Faiz Ahmed Faiz: Selected Poems pg 126-127
The Colour of the Moment
Before you came, everything was what it is—
the sky, vision-bound
the pathway, the wine-glass.
And now the wine-glass, the pathway, the sky’s tint—
everything bears the colour of my heart
till all melts into blood.
Sometimes the golden tinge, sometimes the hue of the joy of
seeing you,
sometimes ashen, the shade of the dreary moment—
the colour of yellow leaves, of thorn and trash,
of the crimson petals of the flower-beds aglow,
the tint of poison, of blood, of sable night.
The sky, the pathway, the wine-glass—
some tear-stained robe, some wincing nerve,
some ever-revolving mirror.
Now that you’re here, stay on
so that some colour, some season, some object may come to rest
and once again everything may become what it was—
the sky, vision-bound, the pathway, the wine-glass.
ash'aar
raat yuuN dil meN terii khoii huuii yaad aaii
jaise viraane meN chupke se bahaar aa jaae
jaise sahraaoN meN haule se chale baad-e-nasiim
jaise biimaar ko bevajah qaraar aa jaae
--
By V.G. Kiernan
Poems By Faiz, p.49
Verses
Last night your faded memory so came into the heart
As spring comes in the wilderness quietly,
As the zephyr moves slowly in deserts
As rest comes without cause to a sick man
Last Night
Last night your faded memory filled my heart
Like spring's calm advent in the wilderness,
Like the soft desert footfalls of the breeze,
Like peace somehow coming to one in sickness.
--
By Vikram Seth
Mappings, Pg 43
Last night your faded memory came to me
As in the wilderness spring comes quietly,
As, slowly, in the desert, moves the breeze,
As, to a sick man, without cause, comes peace.
--
By Daud Kamal
The Unicorn and the Dancing Girl, Pg 28
The Curve of Memory
Last night
When
I thought
Of you
All the deserts
Became
Fragrant
With zephyrs.
Spring
Was everywhere
And
My dying heart
Suddenly
Came back
To life.
--
By Shiv K. Kumar
Faiz Ahmed Faiz: Selected Poems, Pg 3
Quatrain
Last night a fugitive memory of you slid into my heart
as though a wilderness was quietly touched by springtide,
as though some breeze came soughing through a desert,
as someone sick, for no reason, felt reclaimed
--
By Agha Shahid Ali
Rebel's Silhouette, Pg 3
Last Night
At night my lost memory of you returned
and I was like the empty field where springtime,
without being noticed, is bringing flowers;
I was like the desert over which
the breeze moves gently, with great care;
I was like the dying patient
who, for no reason, smiles.
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