I came as a beggar
January 20, 2024
Poet
Mir Taqi Mir
Pen Name(s)
Mir
Translation in Rhyme
I came as a beggar, on bended knee,
Prayed for you with heartfelt plea.
Once claimed, I can’t live without you,
Now, I fulfill the pledge I once knew.
Cure eluded my destined fate,
Medicine endlessly taken to the ultimate.
Circumstances led to this depart,
The destitute forced to leave the heart.
For what lament does the heart forsake,
All else, a sacrifice for love’s sake?
A hopeless look, you could’ve shown,
Yet, you departed, avoiding face unknown.
Desired your street, but now I bleed,
Departing, soaked in a blood-stained creed.
Your gaze, a spell that dulled my senses,
From my being, you tore down the fences.
Forehead bowed in fervent prayer,
Rights of worship fulfilled with care.
Oh idol, I worshiped you standing tall,
Till you were deified in the eyes of all.
Flowers fell as if in my wake,
Through life’s garden, I made my take.
Thankful, I missed my friends’ misery,
Showed my wounds and left in mystery.
Life spent in crafting poetic art,
Promoted the craft from the heart.
What to say if one inquires,
You came, Mir, what transpires?
If one asks Mir, what did you achieve?
A poet’s journey, in verses, I weave.
Translation in Prose
I came as a beggar, made my plea,
Rest assured, I offered a prayer.
I used to claim I won’t live without you,
I am now going to fulfill this pledge.1
Cure was just not in my destiny,
I continued taking medicine to my limits.
Such circumstances got created in the end,
That the destitute were forced to leave the heart.
What is this lament for which,
The heart foregoes all else.
At least you could have given me a hopeless look,
But you went away without even showing your face.2
I had such desire to come to your street,
Well here I depart drenched in a bloodbath.
Your gaze made me lose my senses,
You separated me from my own being.
My forehead continued in prostration,
I fulfilled my rights of prayer thus.
I worshiped you to the point that oh idol,
In the eyes of everyone you became a deity.3
The flowers of the tree fell in such a way as if,
I had come through the garden of this world and left.
I’m thankful that I did not witness the misery of my friends,
I showed my own wounds and left.
Life spent in pursuit of writing poems,
How we promoted this craft.
What shall we say Mir if one asks,
You came to this world, what did you accomplish?
Transliteration
faqīrānā ā.e sadā kar chale
myāṇ khush raho ham duā kar chale
jo tujh bin na jīne ko kehte the ham
so is ehd ko ab vafā kar chale
shifā apnī taqdīr hī meṇ na thī
ki maqdūr tak tho davā kar chale
paḍe aise asbāb pāyān-e-kār
ki nā-chār yūṇ jī jalā kar chale
vo kyā chīz hai āh jis ke liye
har ik chīz se dil uthā kar chale
koī nā-umīdāna karte nigāh
so tum ham se muṇh bhī chupā kar chale
bohut ārzū thī galī kī terī
so yāñ se lahū meṇ nahā kar chale
dikhā.ī diye yūṇ ke be-khud kiyā
hameṇ āp se bhī judā kar chale
jabīṇ sajdā karte hī karte ga.ī
haq-e-bandagī ham adā kar chale
parastish kī yāṇ tak ke ai buth tujhe
nazar meṇ sabhoṇ kī ḳhudā kar chale
jhaḍe phūl jis raṇg gulbun se yūṇ
chaman meṇ jahāṇ ke ham ā kar chale
na dekhā gham-e-dostāṇ shukr hai
hamīṇ dāgh apnā dikhā kar chale
ga.ī umr dar-band-e-fikr-e-ghazal
so is fun ko aisā baḍā kar chale
kaheṇ kyā jo pūche koī ham se Mir
jahāṇ meṇ tum ā.e the kyā kar chale
That moonlit face
January 7, 2024
Poet
Obaidullah Aleem
Pen Name(s)
Aleem
Translation in Rhyme
My Lord, should I ink the woes or dreams divine,
This visage, these eyes of mine,
Like extinguished lamp, awaiting shine.
That moonlit face, those starry eyes,
Those graceful locks, where shadow belies,
Once vowed to join, in love entwined,
Assuring me, oh traveler in kind,
I’ll be with you, no matter the time,
Like the moon of night, and shadow daytime.
That moonlit face, those starry eyes,
Those graceful locks, where shadow belies,
A promise broken, of courtship, of love,
Now someone else’s blessings from above,
This traveler now abound concerned,
That face obscured, once brightly burned,
Starry eyes in slumber turned,
Tresses, once shade, now softly spurned.
That light, that shade was mine to grant,
And thus no one dare say I can’t,
For I am still that traveler enchant.
That moonlit face, those starry eyes,
Those graceful locks, where shadow belies,
Are now in number a thousand time,
They flood my mind in thoughts sublime.
For every face is moonlit face,
And all the eyes are heavenly grace,
The locks of hair are shadowy lace.
To whom I bow, with whom I intertwine,
That face, those eyes, the locks no longer mine,
My Lord, should I ink the woes or dreams divine.
Translation in Prose
My Lord, should I pen the tortures of life or the dreams thereof,
This face, these eyes of mine,
Like extinguished lamps,
That are waiting to be lit again.
That moonlit face, those starry eyes,
Those gracious, shadowy tresses,
That made promises with me,
Of courtship, of love,
That assured me: oh traveler of the faithful path,
I will accompany you wherever you go,
I will be the moon of the night, the shade of the day.
That moonlit face, those starry eyes,
Those gracious, shadowy tresses,
After having broken the promises of courtship, of love,
Who knows upon whom they now bestow light from above,
What does this traveler know?
That moonlit face has now hidden,
Those starry eyes are asleep
Those tresses have lost their shade.
That light, that shade was my grant,
Thus they are in my paths even today,
Since I am the traveler of the faithful path.1
That moonlit face, those starry eyes,
Those gracious, shadowy tresses,
The shape of thousand faces, thousand eyes, thousand tresses.
Are flooding my thoughts.2
Every face is a moonlit face,
All eyes are starry eyes,
All are gracious, shadowy tresses.
Whom do I embrace, whom do I kiss,
Under whose shade do I take rest,
That face no longer mine, the eyes not mine,3
My Lord, should I pen the tortures of life or the dreams thereof.
Transliteration
mire khudāyā maiṇ zindagī ke azāb likkhūṇ ke khwāb likkhūṇ
ye merā chehra ye merī āṇkheṇ
bujhe hue se charāgh jaise
jo phir se jalne ke muntazir hoṇ
vo chāṇd-chehrā sitārā āṇkheṇ
vo mehrbāṇ sāyā-dār zulfeṇ
jinhoṇ ne paimāṇ kiye the mujh se
rafāqatoṇ ke mohabbatoṇ ke
kahā thā mujh se ke ai musāfir rah-e-vafā ke
jahāṇ bhī jā.egā ham bhī ā.eṇge sāth tere
baneṇge rātoṇ meṇ chāṇdnī hum tho din meṇ sā.e bikhaer deṇge
vo chāṇd-chehrā sitārā āṇkheṇ
vo mehrbāṇ sāyā-dār zulfeṇ
vo apne paimāṇ rafāqatoṇ ke mohabbatoṇ ke
shikast kar ke
na jaane ab kis ke rahguzar kā manāra-e-raushnī hue haiṇ
magar musāfir ko kyā khabar hai
vo chāṇd-chehra tho bujh gayā hai
sitāra-āṇkheṇ tho so ga.ī haiṇ
vo zulfeñ be-sāyā ho ga.ī haiṇ
vo roshnī aur vo sā.e mirī atā thay
so merī rāhoṇ meṇ āj bhī haiṇ
ke maiṇ musāfir rah-e-vafā kā
vo chāṇd-chehrā sitārā āṇkheṇ
vo mehrbāṇ sāyā-dār zulfeṇ
hazāroṇ chehroṇ hazāroṇ āṇkhoṇ
hazāroṇ zulfoṇ kā ek sailāb-e-tund le kar
mire ta.āqub meṇ ā rahe haiṇ
har ek chehra hai chāṇd-chehra
haiṇ sārī āṇkheṇ sitāra-āṇkheṇ
tamām haiṇ
mehrbāṇ sāya-dār zulfeṇ
maiṇ kis ko chāhūṇ maiṇ kis ko chūmūṇ
maiñ kis ke sā.e meṇ baitth jā.ūṇ
bachūṇ ki tūfāṇ meṇ dūb jā.ūṇ
na merā chehra na merī āṇkheṇ
mire khudāyā maiṇ zindagī ke azāb likkhūṇ ke khwāb likkhūṇ
I don’t have the courage
December 28, 2023
Poet
Parveen Shakir
Pen Name(s)
Parveen
Translation in Rhyme
I don’t have the courage to press on, halting I can’t concede,
Love’s journey drains me, it’s worn me, indeed.
My garden of blooms once yearned for a tale,
Yet those with scripts brought a tempest, set assail.
In the realm where hearts convened, a judgment was cast,
Yet as we parted, a new question amassed.
Now the beloved’s hem flutters in the breeze’s embrace,
Night’s shoulders, bear gently this weight in your space.
A choice among many: to part or to stay,
I dared not utter, but he spoke in dismay.
Though my lips stayed sealed, my essence laid bare,
Revealing my state to the city’s whole affair.
Today, his face and name slipped from my grasp,
Time turned the portrait to a dream, an ethereal rasp.
After ages, he showed discontent’s piercing knife,
Confirming, in his way, a lingering love, rife.
Translation in Prose
I don’t have the courage to go on, stopping has become impossible,
This journey of love has exhausted me.
Oh my flower garden1, you desired a book be written about you,
But what havoc the people of the book brought upon you.
There was a verdict given between the meeting hearts,
But upon departing, he raised a new question.2
This time around, the beloved’s hem awaits with the wind,
Oh shoulders of the night, bear carefully the burden upon you.3
Amongst the possible decisions was the decision of separation,
I just mentioned it, how dare he.
My lips were sealed, but my transparent existence,
Disclosed my condition to the whole city.
Today I could not remember his name and face together,
How time has turned the portrait into a dreamy thought.
After a long time, he expressed some resentment with me today,
Oh how he confirmed his state of love for me.
Transliteration
chalne kā hausla nahīṇ ruknā muhāl kar diyā
ishq ke is safar ne tho mujh ko nidhāl kar diyā
ae mirī gul-zamīṇ tujhe chāh thī ik kitāb kī
ahl-e-kitāb ne magar kyā tirā hāl kar diyā
milte hue diloṇ ke bīch aur thā faisla koī
us ne magar bicharthe vaqt aur savāl kar diyā
ab ke havā ke sāth hai dāman-e-yār muntazir
bānu-e-shab ke hāth meṇ rakhnā sambhāl kar diyā
mumkina faisloṇ meṇ ek hijr kā faislā bhī thā
ham ne to ek bāt kī us ne kamāl kar diyā
mere laboṇ pe mohr thī par mere shīsha-rū ne tho
shehr ke shehr ko mirā vāqif-e-hāl kar diyā
chehra o nām ek sāth āj na yād ā sake
vaqt ne kis shabīh ko khvāb-o-khayāl kar diyā
muddatoṇ bād us ne āj mujh se koī gilā kiyā
mansab-e-dilbarī pe kyā mujh ko bahāl kar diyā
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