Ghazal
फ़ारिग़ मुझे न जान कि मानिंद-ए-सुब्ह-ओ-मेहर
This ghazal portrays the enduring nature of love's pain, which the poet cherishes as an adornment even beyond life. He finds pride in his old wounds of love, despite the desolation of his heart and the beloved's continued indifference. The verses lament the absence of loyalty and the futility of his efforts in love.
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1
फ़ारिग़ मुझे न जान कि मानिंद-ए-सुब्ह-ओ-मेहर
है दाग़-ए-'इश्क़ ज़ीनत-ए-जेब-ए-कफ़न हुनूज़
Do not deem me free, for just as dawn and sun are marked,The wound of love still adorns my shroud's breast, even now.
Do not consider me free, because just as dawn and the sun are distinctively marked, the wound of love still adorns the pocket/collar of my shroud, even now.
2
है नाज़-ए-मुफ़्लिसाँ ज़र-ए-अज़-दस्त-रफ़्ता पर
हूँ गुल-फ़रोश-ए-शोख़ी-ए-दाग़-ए-कोहन हुनूज़
The impoverished take pride in wealth that slipped their hold,I still purvey the charm of old wounds, lively and bold.
The impoverished take pride in their lost wealth. I still present the charm and vivacity of my old wounds.
3
मै-ख़ाना-ए-जिगर में यहाँ ख़ाक भी नहीं
ख़म्याज़ा खींचे है बुत-ए-बे-दाद-फ़न हुनूज़
In the heart's wine-house, not even dust remains here,Still the unjust-artful idol yawns with a languid air.
In the heart's wine-house, not even dust remains here. Still, the cruel and artful beloved yawns languidly.
4
बेगाना-ए-वफ़ा है हवा-ए-चमन हुनूज़
'वो' सब्ज़ा सँग पर न उगा कोहकन हुनूज़
The garden's breeze is still a stranger to loyalty,That verdure on the stone for Kohkan bloomed not yet.
The garden's breeze is still a stranger to loyalty. That verdure has not yet grown on the stone for Kohkan.
5
या-रब यह दर्द-मंद है कस की निगाह का
है रब्त-ए-मुश्क-ओ-दाग़-ए-स्वाद-ए-ख़ुतन हुनूज़
O Lord, whose gaze has made this heart so full of pain?Still linked to musk, Khutan's dark spot, doth its bond remain.
O Lord, to whose gaze does this pained person belong? Is the bond between musk and the dark spot of Khutan still present?
6
जूँ जादा सर-ब-कू-ए-तमन्ना-ए-बे-दिली
ज़ंजीर-ए-पा है रिश्ता-ए-हुब्बुल-वतन हुनूज़
Like a captive, head bowed in desires devoid of all spirit's cheer,The bond of homeland's love is still a chain, holding us here.
Like a captive, with head bowed in the street of desires that lack spirit, the bond of love for one's homeland is still a chain for the feet.
7
मैं दूर गर्द-ए-क़ुर्ब-ए-बिसात-ए-निगाह था
बैरून-ए-दिल न थी तपिश-ए-अंजुमन हुनूज़
I was the distant dust of proximity, on the gaze's vast floor;The assembly's fervor had not yet emerged from my heart's core.
I was like the distant dust representing closeness on the vast surface of the gaze. The excitement of the assembly had not yet come out from within my heart.
8
मैं हूँ सराब-ए-यक-तपिश आमोख़्तन हुनूज़
ज़ख़्म-ए-जिगर है तिश्ना-ए-लब दोख़्तन हुनूज़
I am a mirage of one burning zeal, still learning its own way,My heart's wound thirsts for lips to stitch, still craving till this day.
I am a mirage born of a single burning desire, still in the process of learning. The wound in my heart still longs for lips to stitch it closed.
9
ऐ शो'ला फ़ुर्सते कि सवैदा-ए-दिल से हूँ
किश्त-ए-सिपंद-ए-सद-जिगर अंदोख़्तन हुनूज़
O Flame, what leisure, that from my heart's core so deep I am,A hundred livers' rue-harvest, I still have to amass.
O Flame, what leisure do I have, for from the core of my heart, I still have to gather the harvest of rue seeds from a hundred livers.
10
फ़ानूस-ए-शम्अ' है कफ़न-ए-कुश्तगान-ए-शौक़
दर-पर्दा है मु'आमला-ए-सोख़्तन हुनूज़
The candle's glass, a shroud for those by longing slain,Behind the veil, the burning's secret still does reign.
The candle's glass casing is the shroud for those slain by passion. The affair of burning still continues, hidden behind a veil.
11
मजनूँ फ़ुसून-ए-शो'ला-ख़िरामी फ़साना है
है शम' जादा दाग़-ए-नेफ़रोख़्तन हुनूज़
The magic of Majnun's fiery stride is but a legend,The candle still holds the scar of what remains unburnt.
The magic of Majnun's fiery stride is merely a legend. The candle still bears the scar of what remains unburnt.
12
कू यक शरर कि साज़-ए-चराग़ाँ करूँ 'असद'
बज़्म-ए-तरब है पर्दगए सोख़्तन हुनूज़
O Asad, where is a single spark, to set the lamps alight?The festive gathering, even now, a burning curtain, shrouds its inner plight.
O Asad, where is even a single spark for me to light the lamps? The gathering of joy is still a burning curtain.
13
था मुझ को ख़ार-ख़ार-ए-जुनून-ए-वफ़ा 'असद'
सोज़न में था नहुफ़्ता गुल-ए-पैरहन हनूज़
Asad, the thorny madness of fidelity was mine,When still the garment's flower in the needle did recline.
Asad, I was consumed by the thorny madness of fidelity, while the garment's flower was still hidden in the needle.
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