Faqiraana aae sadaa kar chale, Miyaan khush raho ham dua kar chale.
Jo tujh bin na jeene ko kahte the ham, So is ahd ko ab wafa kar chale.
Koi naumidana karte nigah, So tum ham se munh bhi chhipa kar chale.
Bahut aarzoo thi gali ki teri, So yaan se lahu mein naha kar chale.
Dikhai diye yun ke bekhud kiya, Hamen aap se bhi juda kar chale.
Jabin sijda karte hi karte gayi, Haq-e-bandgi ham ada kar chale.
Prastash ki yaan taeen ke ai but tujhe, Nazr mein sabhon ki Khuda kar chale.
Gayi umr dar band-e-fikr-e-ghazal, So is fan ko aisa bara kar chale.
Kahen kya jo puchhe koi ham se Mir, Jahaan mein tum ae the kya kar chale.
Translation:
English Translation:
As a fakir* I did come to thee yelling I went away.
Be happy chum-buddy praying I went away.
I won’t live without you this I’d avowed.
To this pledge firm to be, on with it I went away.
Giving me no hopes, give me such a look.
Hiding face from me, you simply went away.
To be to your street, greatly I’d wished.
Blood-bathed there from me, I left and went away.
Your gaze made me disown my senses.
Separating thus you from me, I estranged away.
My forehead to the ground, each step I’d prayed.
Rightful duty, that comes for thee; I took it all the way.
I adored you so much O idol my love.
And you had become a deity, this all fancied away.
Composing ghazals, whole life for it I’d spent.
Made to blossom this artistry via this way.
What should I tell if someone asks me, O Meer!
In this world you come to be, what you did going away.
जो ये दिल है तो क्या सर-अंजाम होगा
ता-ख़ाक भी ख़ाक आराम होगा
Sar-Anjam - literally "the end of the head" or conclusion
If such is the heart, how will this end?
Until ashes there will be no rest
मिरा जी तो आँखों में आया ये सुनते
कि दीदार भी एक दिन आम होगा
My heart has come to my eyes hearing
that one day it will be easy to see the beloved.
न होगा वो देखा जिसे कब्क तू ने
वो इक बाग़ का सर्व-अंदाम होगा
न निकला कर इतना भी बे-पर्दा घर से
बहुत उस में ज़ालिम तो बदनाम होगा
हज़ारों की याँ लग गईं छत से आँखें
तू ऐ माह किस शब-ए-लब-ओ-बाम होगा
वो कुछ जानता होगा ज़ुल्फ़ों में फँसना
जो कोई असीर ता-दाम होगा
जिगर-चाकी नाकामी दुनिया है आख़िर
नहीं आए जो 'मीर' कुछ काम होगा
Jigar Chaaki: heart torn; wounded; unrequited in love;
Nakaami: Failure; workless/useless affairs
After all the world's useless affairs causes heartbreak
If Meer didn't come, he must have had something useful to do.
Jin Ke Liye Apne To Yun Jaan Nikalte Hai
जिन के लिए अपने तो यूँ जान निकलते हैं
इस राह में वे जैसे अंजान निकलते हैं
क्या तीर-ए-सितम उस के सीने में भी टूटे थे
जिस ज़ख़्म को चीरूँ हूँ पैकान निकलते हैं
मत सहल हमें जानो फिरता है फ़लक बरसों
तब ख़ाक के पर्दे से इंसान निकलते हैं
किस का है क़िमाश ऐसा गूदड़ भरे हैं सारे
देखो न जो लोगों के दीवान निकलते हैं
गह लोहू टपकता है गह लख़्त-ए-दिल आँखों से
या टुकड़े जिगर ही के हर आन निकलते हैं
करिए तो गिला किस से जैसी थी हमें ख़्वाहिश
अब वैसे ही ये अपने अरमान निकलते हैं
जागह से भी जाते हो मुँह से भी ख़शिन हो कर
वे हर्फ़ नहीं हैं जो शायान निकलते हैं
सो काहे को अपनी तू जोगी की सी फेरी है
बरसों में कभू ईधर हम आन निकलते हैं
उन आईना-रूयों के क्या 'मीर' भी आशिक़ हैं
जब घर से निकलते हैं हैरान निकलते हैं
Bekhudi Le gayi kahaa.n humko - Mir Taqi Mir
बेख़ुदी ले गयी कहाँ हम को
देर से इंतज़ार है अपना
(बेख़ुदी = बेख़बरी, आत्मविस्मृति)
रोते फिरते हैं सारी-सारी रात
अब यही रोज़गार है अपना
दे के दिल हम जो हो गए मजबूर
इस में क्या इख़्तियार है अपना
(इख़्तियार = अधिकार, काबू, प्रभुत्व)
कुछ नही हम मिसाल-ए-अन्क़ा लेक
शहर-शहर इश्तेहार है अपना
(अन्क़ा = फ़ारसी कविता का एक काल्पनिक पक्षी। इसे दु:साध्य और दुर्लभ के सन्दर्भ में प्रयुक्त किया है), (लेक = लेकिन)
जिस को तुम आसमान कहते हो
सो दिलों का ग़ुबार है अपना
-मीर तक़ी मीर
Ishq Main Ji Ko Sabr-o-taab kahaan - Mir Taqi Mir
Ishq me.n jii ko sabr-o-taab kahaa.n
us se aa.nkhe.n lagii.n to khvaab kahaa.n
bekalii dil hii kii tamaashaa hai
barq me.n aise izteraab kahaa.n
hastii apanii hai biichh me.n pardaa
ham na hove.n to phir hijaab kahaa.n
giriyaa-e-shab se surkh hai.n aa.nkhe.n
mujh balaa nosh ko sharaab kahaa.n
ishq hai aashiqo.n ko jalane ko
ye jahannum me.n hai azaab kahaa.n
mahv hai.n is kitaabii chehare ke
aashiqo.n ko sar-e-kitaab kahaa.n
ishq kaa ghar hai 'meer' se aabaad
aise phir khaanaamaa.n_kharaab kahaa.n
इश्क़ में जी को सब्र-ओ-ताब कहाँ
उस से आँखें लगीं तो ख़्वाब कहाँ
(सब्र-ओ-ताब = धैर्य और शक्ति)
हस्ती अपनी है बीच में पर्दा
हम न होवें तो फिर हिजाब कहाँ
(हस्ती = अस्तित्व, उपस्तिथि), (हिजाब = पर्दा)
इश्क़ है आशिक़ों के जलने को
ये जहन्नुम में है अज़ाब कहाँ
(जहन्नुम = नर्क), (अज़ाब = दुख, कष्ट, संकट)
गिरिया-ए-शब से सुर्ख़ हैं आँखें
मुझ बलानोश को शराब कहाँ
(गिरिया-ए-शब से = रात के रोने-धोने से), (बलानोश = महा पियक्कड़, घोर शराबी)
इश्क़ का घर है 'मीर' से आबाद
ऐसे फिर ख़ानमाँख़राब कहाँ
(ख़ानमाँख़राब = बरबाद)
-मीर तक़ी मीर
Gham usko Saari Raat Sunaya - Mir Taqi Mir
ग़म उस को सारी रात सुनाया तो क्या हुआ
या रोज़ उठ के सर को फिराया तो क्या हुआ
उन ने तो मुझ को झूटे भी पूछा न एक बार
मैं ने उसे हज़ार जताया तो क्या हुआ
ख़्वाहाँ नहीं वो क्यूँ ही मैं अपनी तरफ़ से यूँ
दिल दे के उस के हाथ बिकाया तो क्या हुआ
अब सई कर सिपहर कि मेरे मूए गए
उस का मिज़ाज मेहर पे आया तो क्या हुआ
मत रंजा कर किसी को कि अपने तो ए'तिक़ाद
दिल ढाए कर जो का'बा बनाया तो क्या हुआ
मैं सैद-ए-नातवाँ भी तुझे क्या करूँगा याद
ज़ालिम इक और तीर लगाया तो क्या हुआ
क्या क्या दुआएँ माँगी हैं ख़ल्वत में शैख़ यूँ
ज़ाहिर जहाँ से हाथ उठाया तो क्या हुआ
वो फ़िक्र कर कि चाक-ए-जिगर पावे इल्तियाम
नासेह जो तू ने जामा सुलाया तो क्या हुआ
जीते तो 'मीर' उन ने मुझे दाग़ ही रक्खा
फिर गोर पर चराग़ जलाया तो क्या हुआ
Life is like a Bubble -
I was reading Mir Taqi Mir's ghazal about life being like a bubble and remembered similar words from Guru Tegh Bahadur today. Our time on Earth is fleeting and ephemeral, just like the fragile and temporary nature of soap bubbles. Bubbles are beautiful and captivating while they last, but they are also very fragile and can burst at any moment. Similarly, life can be filled with moments of beauty and joy, but it is also unpredictable and can end abruptly.
Just like a bubble, life can be full of vibrancy and color, reflecting the beauty and diversity of the world around us. But, like a bubble, life is also limited in its capacity and scope. Each individual life is unique and special, just like each bubble that floats in the air, but they are also fleeting and ultimately impermanent.
These poems for me are a reminder to live in the present moment and appreciate the beauty and wonder of life while it lasts. Just as a soap bubble is most beautiful when it is at its fullest and most vibrant, our lives are most meaningful when we are fully engaged in the present moment, appreciating the world around us and living our lives to the fullest.
Lyrics transliterated in English - Hasti Apni Habab Ki Si Hai
For translation and Hindi lyrics see below
hastī apnī habāb kī sī hai
ye numā.ish sarāb kī sī hai
My existence is like a bubble
This exhibition is a mirage.
nāzukī us ke lab kī kyā kahiye
pañkhuḌī ik gulāb kī sī hai
chashm-e-dil khol is bhī aalam par
yaañ kī auqāt ḳhvāb kī sī hai
baar baar us ke dar pe jaatā huuñ
hālat ab iztirāb kī sī hai
nuqta-e-ḳhāl se tirā abrū
bait ik intiḳhāb kī sī hai
maiñ jo bolā kahā ki ye āvāz
usī ḳhāna-ḳharāb kī sī hai
ātish-e-ġham meñ dil bhunā shāyad
der se bū kabāb kī sī hai
dekhiye abr kī tarah ab ke
merī chashm-e-pur-āb kī sī hai
'mīr' un nīm-bāz āñkhoñ meñ
saarī mastī sharāb kī sī hai
Translation - 9/22/20
My existence is like a bubble this exhibition is a mirage.
The softness of her lips Is like the petals of a rose.
Open your eyes to this world, It’s condition is like a dream
I went to my love’s door again and again, I am restless now again.
From your mole to your eyebrows, It seems like a selected couplet in poetry.
When I spoke then they said This is the same voice of ruin
Perhaps heart was roasted in grief’s fire For long it smells like a kabab
Look this time like the clouds, my eyes are full of water
'Mir' those half open eyes have, all the intoxication of wine
Translation 1/19/24
Is this a bubble or my life? Is this show a mirage?
Are these rose petals or your lips?
Walking to your door again and again or am I just crazy now?
Is this the sound of a cursed hound or just me speaking?
Are those half lid eyes, Mir, or a 100 proof shot?
Another Take 1/19/24
my
bubble life
a mirage show
my crazy walking
to your door again, again
and my cursed hound bark
to see your 100 proof eyes
and kiss your rose petal lips.
Translation by Raza Mir
Hasti Apni Hubaab Ki Si Hai Ye numaaish saraab ki si hai
My Life, like a bubble, is transient This show, like a mirage, evanescent
Naazuki us ke lab ki kya kahiye Pankhudi ek gulaab ki si hai
Exquisite, those lips that lie in repose Delicate as the petals of a rose
Baar baar us ke dar pe jaata hoon Haalat ab iztiraab ki si hai
Again and again I go to that door In a state of panic, need I say more?
Main jo bola kaha ke ye aawaaz Usi khana-kharaab ki si hai
I spoke and everyone guessed that this sound Belonged perhaps to that wretched, cursed hound
Mir, un neem-baaz aankhon mein Saari masti sharaab ki si hai
Those half-lidded eyes of that love of mine Mir, they bear all the headiness of wine
Source: The Taste of Words: An Introduction to Urdu Poetry. Edited and Translated by Raza Mir
None of this is true, O Nanak, without God. ||23||
Jaise jal ṯe buḏbuḏā upjai binsai nīṯ.
Jag racẖnā ṯaise racẖī kaho Nānak sun mīṯ. ||25||
As the bubbles in the water well up and disappear again,
so is the universe created; says Nanak, listen, O my friend! ||25||
English Poetry Using the Bubble Metaphor
The metaphor of life being like a bubble is a common one in English literature as well and has been used in various poems throughout history. Here are a few examples:
"The Bubbles of the Foam" by Emily Bronte:
In this poem, Bronte compares life to the fleeting bubbles of foam on a river, emphasizing how quickly life passes and how easily it can be forgotten:
"Down the dimpled, dancing river,
With a rippling, shining motion,
With a whirlpool's leaping fury,
And a flashing, foam-born notion!
Life, like bubbles on the river,
Sparkling, changing, born and dying,
Lulled awhile from its wild motion,
Glitters, quivers, and goes flying."
"A Bubble" by Robert Frost:
In this short but powerful poem, Frost uses the metaphor of a bubble to represent the fragility and impermanence of life:
"A winter day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets
Below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a bubble,
An iridescent bubble,
Caught in a frozen web
Between the sun and moon."
"Life's Bubble" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox:
Wilcox's poem uses the bubble metaphor to emphasize the importance of living life to the fullest, as the bubble can burst at any moment:
"Life is but a bubble,
Fraught with every hue,
Born to shine and sparkle,
For a moment's view.
Then it bursts forever,
Leaving but a drop,
Its unbounded brightness
Blighted in a stop."
Rahi nagufta mere dil mein dastan meri na is dayar mein samjha koi zaban meri
1.
रही न-गुफ़्ता मिरे दिल में दास्ताँ मेरी न उस दयार में समझा कोई ज़बाँ मेरी
No tale remained unspoken in my heart— Yet in that land, no one understood my language.
Commentary:
The poet has poured out his entire story—his grief, love, yearning—but finds himself in a place where his words mean nothing. It speaks to alienation: a total disconnect between inner experience and outer reception. The "dayaar" (foreign land) may be literal or symbolic—he is among people who cannot grasp the depths of his emotional truth.
2.
ब-रंग-ए-सौत-ए-जरस तुझ से दूर हूँ तन्हा ख़बर नहीं है तुझे आह कारवाँ मेरी
Like the fading sound of a caravan bell, I am far and alone from you— You have no idea, alas, of the caravan that was once mine.
Commentary:
A remarkable auditory image—his presence is like the faint sound of a departing caravan bell. He's been left behind, or has moved away unnoticed. There's both abandonment and the pain of being unheard by the one he longs for.
3.
तिरे न आज के आने में सुब्ह के मुझ पास हज़ार जाए गई तब-ए-बद-गुमाँ मेरी
You did not come today either, nor at dawn— My restless and suspicious temperament has wandered a thousand places.
Commentary:
Mir captures the obsessive agony of waiting. The beloved doesn’t arrive, and the poet’s imagination spirals. His mind wanders not with hope, but with dark, suspicious thoughts—perhaps betrayal, indifference, or forgetfulness.
4.
वो नक़्श-ए-पै हूँ मैं मिट गया हो जो रह में न कुछ ख़बर है न सुध हैगी रह-रवाँ मेरी
I am a footprint that has vanished on the path— The travelers of that road neither notice nor remember me.
Commentary:
This is one of the most profound metaphors in the ghazal. The speaker’s very existence has been erased, like a mark in dust that time and motion have swept away. The world has moved on, indifferent to his pain.
5.
शब उस के कूचे में जाता हूँ इस तवक़्क़ो' पर कि एक दोस्त है वाँ ख़्वाब पासबाँ मेरी
Each night I go to her alley in this hope— That a friend there may guard my dreams.
Commentary:
Dreams are his last refuge, and even that space feels fragile. He visits the beloved’s street—not for union, but perhaps for proximity, for the imagined comfort of a friend who might protect his dreams from despair.
6.
उसी से दूर रहा असल मुद्दआ' जो था गई ये उम्र-ए-अज़ीज़ आह राएगाँ मेरी
I remained far from what truly mattered— Alas, this precious life of mine has gone in vain.
Commentary:
A deeply regretful line. The speaker confesses he missed the essential point of life—be it love, union, self-realization, or purpose. The repetition of "ah" reinforces the helpless sigh of someone who knows it’s too late.
7.
तिरे फ़िराक़ में जैसे ख़याल मुफ़्लिस का गई है फ़िक्र-ए-परेशाँ कहाँ कहाँ मेरी
In your separation, like a pauper’s thoughts— My scattered mind has wandered everywhere.
Commentary:
Here, separation makes the mind impoverished, untethered. The simile—“like a poor man’s thoughts”—suggests hunger, desperation, and distraction. His thinking becomes fractured, vagrant, unruly.
8.
नहीं है ताब-ओ-तवाँ की जुदाई का अंदोह कि ना-तवानी बहुत है मिज़ाज-दाँ मेरी
There is no strength to bear the sorrow of separation— For my nature is already weakened by helplessness.
Commentary:
He’s not just sad—he’s exhausted. Separation is unbearable because he has no reserve strength left. This verse speaks to the compounded effect of emotional and physical weakness—he’s worn thin.
9.
रहा मैं दर-ए-पस-ए-दीवार-ए-बाग़ मुद्दत लेक गई गुलों के न कानों तलक फ़ुग़ाँ मेरी
I remained behind the garden wall for ages— Yet my cries never reached the ears of the flowers.
Commentary:
The image is heartbreaking. He is close to beauty (the garden), yet separated by a wall. His longing is muffled; even nature—normally a companion in classical Urdu poetry—is deaf to his suffering.
10.
हुआ हूँ गिर्या-ए-ख़ूनीं का जब से दामन-गीर न आस्तीन हुई पाक दोस्ताँ मेरी
Since bloody weeping has gripped my collar— None of my friends’ sleeves have remained unstained.
Commentary:
The poet weeps so intensely, so violently, that his bloodied tears stain the sleeves of his friends. Either he is burdensome to them, or his grief contaminates even those who care for him. There’s sorrow and shame in this couplet.
11.
दिया दिखाई मुझे तो इसी का जल्वा 'मीर' पड़ी जहान में जा कर नज़र जहाँ मेरी
Whatever appeared to me, it was just this vision, O Mir— Wherever in the world my gaze fell.
Commentary:
A metaphysical closure. Mir sees the beloved—or the same sorrow—everywhere. His vision is no longer just physical, but spiritual. The world reflects his inner state, and the beloved's image is etched onto all of existence.
Lyrics in English (full ghazal in hindi below)
Rahi nagufta mere dil mein dastan meri na is dayar mein samjha koi zaban meri
barang-e-saut-e-jaras tujh se dur hun tanha khabar nahin hai tujhe ah karwan meri
usi se dur raha asl-e-mudda jo tha gai ye umr-e-aziz ah rayagan meri
tere firaq mein jaise khayal muflis ka gai hai fikr-e-pareshan kahan kahan meri
diya dikhai mujhe to usi ka jalwa "Mir" pari jahan mein ja kar nazar jahan meri
Translation in English
My story remained speechless in my heart, In this world no one understood my words.
I have strayed far from the bell and am alone O leaving caravan- you do not know where I am
[in the morning a bell is supposed to get everyone going on the caravan. The poet is missing out on the journey of life, or the purpose of life because he has strayed far away alone, to a place where the bell does not reach him]
I have stayed far from was the real purpose, This priceless life is going wasted
like thoughts of a poor soul, in your separation, my worried mind has wandered every where
O Meer, I only see His countenance wherever I see in this world.
Rahi Nagufta Mere Dil Main Dastaa(n) Meri
Na Us Dayaar Main Samjha Koi Jabaa(n) Meri
Mir Taqi Mir
रही न-गुफ़्ता मिरे दिल में दास्ताँ मेरी न उस दयार में समझा कोई ज़बाँ मेरी
ब-रंग-ए-सौत-ए-जरस तुझ से दूर हूँ तन्हा ख़बर नहीं है तुझे आह कारवाँ मेरी
तिरे न आज के आने में सुब्ह के मुझ पास हज़ार जाए गई तब-ए-बद-गुमाँ मेरी
वो नक़्श-ए-पै हूँ मैं मिट गया हो जो रह में न कुछ ख़बर है न सुध हैगी रह-रवाँ मेरी
शब उस के कूचे में जाता हूँ इस तवक़्क़ो' पर कि एक दोस्त है वाँ ख़्वाब पासबाँ मेरी
उसी से दूर रहा असल मुद्दआ' जो था गई ये उम्र-ए-अज़ीज़ आह राएगाँ मेरी
तिरे फ़िराक़ में जैसे ख़याल मुफ़्लिस का गई है फ़िक्र-ए-परेशाँ कहाँ कहाँ मेरी
नहीं है ताब-ओ-तवाँ की जुदाई का अंदोह कि ना-तवानी बहुत है मिज़ाज-दाँ मेरी
रहा मैं दर-ए-पस-ए-दीवार-ए-बाग़ मुद्दत लेक गई गुलों के न कानों तलक फ़ुग़ाँ मेरी
हुआ हूँ गिर्या-ए-ख़ूनीं का जब से दामन-गीर न आस्तीन हुई पाक दोस्ताँ मेरी
दिया दिखाई मुझे तो इसी का जल्वा 'मीर' पड़ी जहान में जा कर नज़र जहाँ मेरी
Aage Aage Dekhiye Hota hai kya - comes from this Mir Taqi Mir ghazal:
(1) इब्तेदा-ए-इश्क़ है; रोता है क्या?!
आगे-आगे देखिये होता है क्या?!
इब्तेदा/Ibtedaa/ابتدا = Beginning, Start
Ibtedaa-e-Ishq Hai; Rotaa Hai Kyaa?!
Aage-Aage Dekhiye Hota Hai Kyaa?!
It’s (Just) the Beginning of Love; (and You Have) Already Started Crying?! Just Watch What Happens Next!
(2)
नींद अब तेरे मुक़द्दर में नहीं
रात के पिछले पहेर सोता है क्या?!
Neend Ab Tere Muqaddar Mein Naheen
Raat Ke Pichhle Paher Sotaa Hai Kyaa?!
Sleep Is Not in Your Fate; (And You Are Trying to) Sleep in the Last Quarter of the Night?!
(3)
ये निशाने-इश्क़ हैं; जाते नहीं
दाग़ छाती के अबस धोता है क्या?!
अबस/Abas/عبث = व्यर्थ में, in Vain, to No Purpose
Ye Nishaan-e-Ishq Hain Jaate Naheen
Daagh Chhaati Ke Abas Dhotaa Hai Kyaa
These are the Scars of Love; They Never Go Away! Trying in Vain to Wash Off the Wounds on the Chest?!
(4)
गिर के उठना, उठ के चलना सीख ले
पाके मंज़िल इस तरह खोता है क्या?!
Gir Ke Uthnaa; Uth Ke Chalnaa, Seekh Le
Paake Manzil Iss Tarah Khotaa Hai Kyaa?!
Learn to Get up and Walk after the Fall; Would You Let the Destination Slip Away after You Have Almost Reached There?!
Full Ghazal:
Ibtida-e-ishq hai rota hai kya
Aage Aage dekhiye hota hai kya
Qafile mein subah ke ek shor hai
Yaani ghaafil hum chale sota hai kya
Sabz hoti hi nahi yeh sar zameen
Turkm-e-khwahish dil mein tu bota hai kya
Turkhm - seed; sabz - green
Yeh nishaan-e-ishq hain jaate nahin,
Daagh chhaati ke abas dhota hai kya
Abas - needlessly
Ghairat-e-Yousaf hai yeh waqt-e-aziz,
Mir isko raigaan khota hai kya
Raigaan - waste
Another English translation
It’s only the beginning of love, why dost thou groan?
O, wait and see what happens as you onward move.
The clamour of the morning caravan gives a clarion call:
“Here we go, you sluggard, high time you woke!”
Never shall it sprout, the valley of my heart,
Why sow the seed of desire in this barren soil?
These are the stains of love, indelible, ingrained,
In vain dost thou labour to wash your breast clean
Patta Patta Boota Boota - Mir Taqi Mir Ghazal translation
Also new composition: 20149 - Patta Patta Boota Boota
पत्ता-पत्ता बूटा-बूटा हाल हमारा जाने है
जाने न जाने गुल ही न जाने बाघ तो सारा जाने है
pattaa-pattaa buuTaa-buuTaa haal hamaaraa jaane hai
jaane na jaane gul hii na jaane, baaG to saaraa jaane hai
पत्ता, Patta: Leaf
बूटा, Buutaa: Undershrub
गुल, Gul: Rose
बाघ, Baagh: Garden
Every leaf every plant knows my feelings
The whole garden knows them
the only one who doesn't
is the flower
लगने न दे बस हो तो उस के गौहर-इ-गोश को बाले तक
उस को फलक चश्म-इ-माह-ओ-खुर के पुतली का तारा जाने है
lagne na de bas ho to us ke gauhar-e-gosh ko baale tak
us ko falak chashm-e-mah-o-Khur kee putlee kaa taaraa jaane hai
गौहर, Gauhar: Gem, Jewel, Pearl
गोश, Gosh: Ear
गौहर-इ-गोश, Gauhar-e-Gosh: Pearl like ears
बाले, Baale: Earrings
फलक, Falak: Sky, Heaven, Fortune, Fate
चश्म, Chashm: Eye, Expectation, Hope
माह, Mah: Moon
खुर, Khur: Sun
चश्म-इ-माह-ओ-खुर, Chashm-e-Mah-O-Khur: Eye of the Moon and the Sun
पुतली, Putli: Pupil of the eye
पुतली-का-तारा, Putli-ka-taara: Apple of the eye
This is one of the more complicated shers. So I am going to try to rearrange the words:
agar uske bas me ho to falak gauhar-e-gosh ko baale tak na lagne de
(kyoonki) us gauhar-e-gosh ko to falak chashm-e-mah-o-khur- ki putli ka taara jaanta hai
If it were up to him, the sky would not let the ear's pearl to earings
because it considers this pearl the star of the pupil of sun and moon's eyes
So:
The sky wont let the ear's pearl to be strung
because it considers it no less than
the heavenly love of the
sun and moon
Just some poetic thoughts on this: The ear and eye are sensory organs. Normal pearls are strung in jewelry. But divine pearls are too expensive to be strung. The just ear is like the just eye. The sky (heaven or God) think that the pearl ear ... the ear that listens to divinity in all is like the eye of sun and moon that see divinity in all. The eye of the sun and moon do not distinguish between anyone. They shine on everyone in the same manner. The one that truly listens is considered very highly by God, just like the eye of the sun and moon. God lets the ear that listens stand out like the moon and the sun? God considers?
आगे उस मुताकब्बिर के हम खुदा खुदा किया करते हैं
कब मौजूद खुदा को वो मघरूर खुद-आरा जाने है
aage us mutakabbir ke ham Khudaa Khudaa kiyaa karate hai.n
kab maujuud Khudaa ko vo maGaruur Khud-aaraa jaane hai
Every solution/scheme turned contrary, the medicine had no effect
See? This affliction of the heart, it finally finished (me? you? him?) off
An otherwise simple sher, it turns on a clever word-play involving 'kaam kiya'. Since the idiom 'kaam tamaam karna' (which signifies something like 'to kill off') literally translates as 'to do a LOT of work', it provides a nice juxtaposition to the medicine, which 'did no work at all'! However, whereas someone like Ghalib would have grasped the word-play potential inherent in the idiom, and teased and tweaked at it until he ended up saying something truly profound or witty, Mir is happy to merely present the word-play to us...gently, without too much of a fuss. There's merit in his approach...
The way the sher is said, it remains deliciously ambiguous whether it is a lament from the afflicted party himself, or a dispassionate observation by someone who has merely seen the afflicted one succumb to his heart's affliction...
अह्द-ए-जवानी रो रो काटा, पीरी में ली आँखें मूँद
यानी रात बहुत थे जागे, सुबह हुई आराम किया
The days of youth, (I) spent in tears; (and) in old age, shut (my) eyes
That is, (I) had kept awake a lot during the night; (hence) in the morning, (I) rested
Nice. While, on first reading, the sher seems to be (in a reversal of convention) equating youth with night and age with morning, what the poet is actually stressing that his entire life was encapsulated/contained in that one wakeful night of separation! Hence, he first gives what seems to be an overview of a lifespan - a youth spent in sorrow, and an old-age of deliberate restfulness - and then explains (look at the opening 'yaanee' in the second line) that this picturisation is based on the fact of him having spent the previous night in teary-eyed wakefulness, and having finally dozed off at dawn!
हर्फ़ नहीं जां-बख्शी में उसकी, खूबी अपनी किस्मत की
हम से जो पहले कह भेजा, सो मरने का पैगाम किया
(there's) no doubt about her life-sparing nature, it is the exceptionalness of my (good) fortune
that the first message (she) sent across, it was a death-sentence!
Wonderful! This is the typical sort of 'yeah, right!' sher that Ghalib does so well, isn't it?
The poet sarcastically absolves the Beloved of any blame in his death - because 'sparing lives' is so unambiguously inherent to her nature, after all! It is only the excellence of his kismat, he explains, because of which the first message he received from her was a death-sentence. It's so deliciously over-the-top, this sarcasm-laden thankfulness that the Beloved's professed gentility didn't get in the way, at least in his case, of a summary execution!
नाहक हम मजबूरों पर ये तोहमत है मुख्तारी की
चहते हैं सो आप करे हैं, हम को अबस बदनाम किया
(it is) unjust that we, the helpless, are accused of (possessing) power
you do whatever (you) like, it's needlessly that we stand defamed
Once again, a sher of endearing simplicity. 'Mukhtaaree' is a word of almost judicial import, signifying legal authority, autonomy, or plenipotentiariness. For the wretched lover to be attributed such sovereignty is like rubbing salt in his wounds... given that the Beloved holds his very destiny in her dainty fingers, the very least she can do is to acknowledge this reality!! To imply that her Lover has some power over his state shifts the responsibility for this state on to him, which is certainly defamatory!
The sher could evidently constitute a witty response to a protest by the Beloved against some forward sign of ardour by the Lover... "listen - don't blame me. It is not as though I am in control of anything here!' However, the first part of the second line also hints that the sher could be directed against still 'Higher Powers'... the 'chaahate hain so aap kare hain' being close to a specific Koranic allusion that describes the Almighty's omnipotence...
सारे रिंद औबाश जहां के तुझ से सुजूद में रहते हैं
बांके, टेढ़े, तिरछे, ठेके, सब का तुझ को इमाम किया
All the drunkards and waywards of the world bow before you
the crooked, the bent, the askance, the twisted; you've been made the Imaam of all (these)
This one is quite delightful! What an unflattering caricature of the Beloved's other devotees! And by implication, of course, also of her - - "yes, yes, you may have thousands worshipping you, but don't get too uppity; just look at the sort of motley crowd they constitute!" The honorifics heaped upon this fan club - 'baanke, Terhe, Tirchhe, Theke' - conjure up a truly apalling picture of a physically malformed gathering, which when read with the first line's verdict on their moral qualities, leaves them little hope for redemption, howsoever pious their devotion to the Beloved may be...!
Of course, nothing in the Sher shows that the poet is explicitly excluding himself from this sorry bunch - after all, he too prostrates before the Beloved just as frequently as her other devotees, as the next Sher shows!
सरज़द हम से बे-अदबी तो वहशत में भी कम ही हुई
कोसों उसकी और गए पर सजदा हर हर गाम किया
As for discourtesy, very little was committed by me, even in madness
(it is true that) I moved miles towards her, but I prostrated myself at every step!
Ha! Another delightful one! How charmingly the Poet absolves himself of having breached any proprieties... he acknowledges having approached the Beloved - he also implicitly concedes that that, in itself, could well have been seen as rudely ambitious - but goes on to point out, in all innocence, that since he punctuated every step of this pursuit by falling flat in worshipful abjection, no discourtesy can possibly be attributed to him! One would imagine that even the Beloved would be moved to a smile on hearing this defence!
किसका काबा, कैसा किब्ला, कौन हरम है, क्या अहराम
कूचे के उसके बाशिंदों ने सब को यहीं से सलाम किया
Whose Kaabah, which Kiblah, what are places of worship or pilgrimage-clothes?
(as for) the denizens of her street, they (just) bestow a salaam on everyone from right here!
This is another rich one! The sher reiterates the oft-made point that those in the thrall of the Beloved are condemned to lose their faith - hence these besotted street-dwellers (of whom the poet is evidently one; as shown by his use of 'yaheen' in the second line) couldn't care lesser about the Kaabah, or in which direction Mecca is (a 'Qiblah' indicates this direction in a mosque), and have no interest in leaving the Beloved's lane to undertake any religious journey either.
Until here, the Sher is commonplace. What gives it its exceptional charm is the way the second line provides an additional picture - these besotted lovers, while determinedly ensconsed on their preferred perches in the Beloved's lane (in the evident hope of catching a glimpse of her), are quite prompt in 'wishing on', with courteous salaams, others who are going about their prayers, or setting off for pilgrimages!! This hypocritical show of religious fellow-feeling (all the while keeping a watchful eye on the Beloved's door) makes one feel almost fond of these roguish 'baashindaas', doesn't it?
शेख जो है मस्जिद में नंगा, रात को था मैखाने में
जुब्बह, खिरका, कुर्ता, टोपी, मस्ती में इनाम किया
The Sheikh who is naked in the Mosque, was in the tavern yesterday
(where he) , in inebriated enthusiasm, gave away as prizes, his cloak, robe, Kurtaa and Hat!
It was a custom of the time, of course, for persons of wealth and influence to grandiosely hand over a necklace or ring in reward to someone whose service or performance they found praiseworthy.
The Sher evokes an amusing picture of a Sheikh, in drunken stupor, carrying this a little too far, by distributing even his clothes away to sundry hangers-on in the tavern, who might have been entertaining him in one way or the other... The picturisation of the Sheikh being naked in the mosque on the following day is figurative - for we don't expect the personage to have actually landed up for prayers 'au naturel', of course. It is a sort of reversal of the 'Emperor's new clothes'... he might be clothed now, but in light of his silliness in the tavern on the previous night, he stands permanently denuded - of his dignity and authority, at least - in the public eye!
काश अब बुर्का मुह से उठा दे, वरना फिर क्या हासिल है
आँख मूंदे पर उन ने गो दीदार को अपने आम किया
I wish she would lift the burkah from her face now, else what would be achieved
(if) after (my) eyes are shut, she (even) makes her view completely public!
hmm... a little pedestrian. In a cultural context where a sight of the Beloved's face could be afforded only through good fortune or extreme generosity on her part, the groaning exclamation captured in the first half of the first line might have been quite common... the sher creates its pathos by invoking a situation where the Beloved might wait just a bit too long before she finally lifts the veil - by which time the Lover might have already died of unfulfilled longing...! In fact, if she does put herself 'in public view' after the Poet's death, he would probably see it, quite justifiably, as a double disaster!!
यां के सपेद-ओ-स्याह में हम को दख्ल जो है सो इतना है
रात को रो रो सुबह किया या दिन को जों-तों शाम किया
In the (interplay of) Black and White here, the involvement I have is (just) this much
(I) wept the night into the morning, or willy-nilly passed the day into night
In my opinion, this is by far the best sher in the Ghazal. It is a little difficult to translate though, because it hinges on very smart leveraging of a particular idiomatic usage.
Let us first see what is being asserted in the first line... the poet seems to be discounting or denying an implied power that has apparently been attributed to him. And no ordinary power, mind you - the power to influence matters of 'black and white' or 'dark and light', no less! Well, says the poet, if he does have any influence over such cosmic cycles, it is merely this much -- he has often 'wept the night into day', etc...
It is lucky that the 'weeping the night into the day' idiom comes through in English, actually - because otherwise it would be well-nigh impossible to capture the beauty here in translation. When we say 'raat ko ro ro subah kiyaa', we are talking, of course, about the difficulty of taking oneself through the interminable duration of the night. But LITERALLY, the idiom would translate as 'making the night into the morning, through one's tears'. Similarly, the 'din ko jon-ton shaam kiyaa' is equally an assertion of the poet's powerlessness - what it actually means to say is that the wretched creature 'somehow managed to get through the day'. But the wording of the idiom allows us to read an 'active' role for him - as if he 'somehow' managed to make the day into night!
It is this insightful observation - that an idiomatic usage meant to denote a complete lack of power can actually be read as an assertion of power, albeit an obviously contrived one, that allows Mir to weave such magic with 'yaan ke saped-o-syaah'!
I also love the exquisite wording of the first line... the use of 'dakhl' - meaning something like 'interference' or 'involvement' or 'having a hand in something', rather than outright 'power' - is a delicious touch!
सुबह चमन में उसको कहीं तकलीफ़-ए-हवा ले आई थी
रुख से गुल को मोल लिया, कामत से सर्व गुलाम किया
in the morning, the trouble of (taking) air brought her somewhere in the garden
with (her) face, (she) purchased the bloom; with (her) stature, she enslaved the Cypress
Very ho-hum! The Beloved enters the garden for a walk, and the trees and flowers fall to her charms! See what I mean about Mir being quite flat at times?
साद-ए-सीमीं दोनो उसके हाथ में ला कर छोड़ दिए
भूले उस के कौल-ए-कसम पर हाय ख़याल-ए-खाम किया
having brought both her silvery arms in (my) hands, (I) let go
foolishly did (I), alas, delude (myself) on her pledges and promises!
Ok, so a somewhat 'cute' picture is being evoked, here. The Lover manages, in a rare show of daring, to physically accost the Beloved, gripping her 'silvery wrists' in his hand. She wrings and writhes in attempted escape, and upon being unsuccessful, showers the Poet with pledges and promises - of returning to him later, if he lets her go now. He naively believes her, and lets go... only to later rue his gullibility, in the form of the sher above.
Granted that the vignette evoked is not without charm, it is hardly worthy of being placed alongside some of the other amazing shers in this ghazal. Moreover, the kind of situation evoked in the sher is at odds with the general milieu of the ghazal world... it is too intimate, the sort of situation you might expect to see between a man and wife, or at least a couple that implicitly acknowledges their intimacy to each other... the best shers don't deal with such relationships, which seem already 'consummated' in an emotional sense!
काम हुए हैं सारे ज़ाया हर सा'अत की समाजत से
इस्तिघ्ना की चौगुनी उसने जूं-जूं मैं इब्राम किया
all efforts have been wasted, from the (very) moment of every entreaty
she quadrupled her indifference, every time I beseeched her
The sher is undeniably lyrical, thanks largely to the alliterative 'saa'at kii samaajat' in the first line and the colloquial 'joon-joon' in the second. But otherwise, I once again fail to see particular merit in it - the idea that the Beloved would be unmoved by the Lover's entreaties is almost a given in this world...
ऐसे आहू-ए-रम-खूर्दा की वहशत खोनी मुश्किल थी
सिःर किया, ऐजाज़ किया, जिन लोगों ने तुझ को राम किया
for the wildness of such a frightful deer to be lost was difficult
they did magic, achieved a miracle, the people who tamed you
I haven't much idea what this is about. Presumably the Beloved is being addressed, and described as a frightened, flighty, skittish, deer. But who are the people who are supposed to have 'tamed' this otherwise wild beast? Presumably the poet's rivals... why should he be heaping praise on their accomplishment? Even in sarcastic note, this just doesn't ring right...!
Please feel free to chip in if you have a fix on what Mir was trying here...
मीर के दीन-ओ-मज़हब को अब पूछते क्या हो, उन ने तो
कश्का खींचा, दैर में बैठा, कब का तर्क इस्लाम किया
Why do you ask now about Mir's God and religion; (for) he has
worn a caste-mark, sat in a temple, (and has) long renounced Islam!
The maqtaa is quite delicious... and must have raised scandalised smiles from his listeners in the conservative times he lived. But it also demonstrates the admirably liberal ethos that the world of poetry was able to project, even in Mir's epoch, if these things could be joked about so freely...
Another Translation found on Facebook:
Ulti Ho Gayeen Sab Tadbiren
Begum Akhtar..
All my hopes - Mir Taqi Mir
Translation from Mir Taqi Mir's Urdu ghazal 'Ulti ho gayi sab tadbeerein'