Ghazal
Pa-ba-daman Ho Raha Huun Bas-ki Main Sahra-navard
पा-ब-दामन हो रहा हूँ बस-कि मैं सहरा-नवर्द
This ghazal captures the exhaustive trials of passionate love, inward contemplation, and the wanderings of a restless heart. It beautifully conveys the lover's desolate longing alongside the overwhelming, deeply intimate emotions experienced in moments of union with the beloved.
Source: rekhta · HI
Listen
1
पा-ब-दामन हो रहा हूँ बस-कि मैं सहरा-नवर्द
ख़ार-ए-पा हैं जौहर-ए-आईना-ए-ज़ानू मुझे
So long have I roamed the desert that now I draw my feet into my lap, bent low; The thorns embedded in my soles become the grain upon my knee's reflective glow.
Because I have wandered so much in the wilderness, I am now sitting with my feet drawn into my lap; the thorns pierced in my feet appear like the grain on the mirror of my knee.
2
देखना हालत मिरे दिल की हम-आग़ोशी के वक़्त
है निगाह-ए-आश्ना तेरा सर-ए-हर-मू मुझे
Behold the state of my heart in the moment of our embrace / The tip of your every hair turns a knowing gaze upon me
Observe the condition of my heart at the moment of our embrace; the tip of your every hair feels to me like a familiar, knowing eye looking at me.
3
हूँ सरापा साज़-ए-आहंग-ए-शिकायत कुछ न पूछ
है यही बेहतर कि लोगों में न छेड़े तू मुझे
I am from head to toe an instrument tuned to the melody of lament, ask me nothing; it is best you do not touch my chords before the world.
I am entirely like an instrument tuned to the song of grievances, so ask me nothing. It is best that you do not touch or provoke me in the presence of others.
4
बाइस-ए-वामांदगी है उम्र-ए-फ़ुर्सत-जू मुझे
कर दिया है पा-ब-ज़ंजीर-ए-रम-ए-आहू मुझे
A life forever seeking respite has worn me down completely; it has fettered my feet to the elusive flight of a deer.
My life spent in search of leisure has become the cause of my exhaustion, and the swift flight of a deer has bound my feet in endless pursuit.
5
ख़ाक-ए-फ़ुर्सत बर-सर-ए-ज़ौक़-ए-फ़ना ऐ इंतिज़ार
है ग़ुबार-ए-शीशा-ए-साअत रम-ए-आहू मुझे
Dust on the respite that delays my thirst for doom, O waiting! / The sand within the hourglass seems a fleeing gazelle to me.
O waiting, dust be upon this respite that delays my desire for annihilation! The sand running in the hourglass seems like a fleeing deer to me.
6
हम-ज़बाँ आया नज़र फ़िक्र-ए-सुख़न में तू मुझे
मर्दुमुक है तूती-ए-आईना-ए-ज़ानू मुझे
Lost in the thought of verse, I found in you a kindred tongue; the pupil of my eye became the parrot in the mirror of my knee.
Deep in contemplation of poetry with my head resting on my knees, I saw you as sharing my own voice; the pupil of my eye became like a parrot facing the mirror of my knee to learn speech.
7
याद-ए-मिज़्गाँ में ब-नश्तर-ए-ज़ार-ए-सौदा-ए-ख़याल
चाहिए वक़्त-ए-तपिश यक-दस्त सद-पहलू मुझे
In remembrance of her lashes amid the lancet-grove of fevered thought, in the hour of burning agony I need a hundred flanks at once to toss upon.
In the agony of remembering the beloved's eyelashes, which turns the frenzy of my thoughts into a field of lancets, I need a hundred sides at once to toss and turn during this burning restlessness.
8
इज़्तिराब-ए-उम्र बे-मतलब नहीं आख़िर कि है
जुसतुजू-ए-फ़ुर्सत-ए-रब्त-ए-सर-ए-ज़ानू मुझे
This lifelong restlessness is not without a purpose, after all; / I only seek a moment's respite to rest my head upon my knees.
This lifelong restlessness is not without purpose after all, for I am only searching for a moment of respite to rest my head upon my knees.
9
चाहिए दरमान-ए-रीश-ए-दिल भी तेग़-ए-यार से
मरम-ए-ज़ंगार है वो वसमा-ए-अबरू मुझे
For my heart’s wound, I seek a cure from the beloved’s sword alone; to me, the dark dye upon her arched brow is a healing salve of verdigris.
I seek the cure for my wounded heart from the beloved's sword itself, as the dark dye on her eyebrows appears to me like a healing ointment of verdigris.
10
कसरत-ए-जौर-ओ-सितम से हो गया हूँ बे-दिमाग़
ख़ूब-रूयों ने बनाया 'ग़ालिब'-ए-बद-ख़ू मुझे
Exhausted by relentless cruelties, my patience has worn thin; the fair-faced beauties turned me into an ill-tempered Ghalib from within.
Due to relentless cruelty and oppression, I have lost my patience and mental peace; these fair-faced beauties have turned me, Ghalib, into an ill-tempered person.
11
फ़ुर्सत-ए-आराम-ए-ग़श हस्ती है बोहरान-ए-अदम
है शिकस्त-ए-रंग-ए-इम्काँ गर्दिश-ए-पहलू मुझे
Life is but a swoon’s brief rest, a crisis of non-being's tide; The fading hue of what could be is my restless turning from side to side.
Existence is merely the brief respite of a fainting spell during the crisis of non-being, and the fading color of possibility is for me nothing more than restless tossing and turning.
12
साज़-ए-ईमा-ए-फ़ना है आलम-ए-पीरी 'असद'
क़ामत-ए-ख़म से है हासिल शोख़ी-ए-अबरू मुझे
Old age, Asad, is but a prelude gesturing towards mortal doom; from my stooped frame, I have gained the flirtatious arch of an eyebrow.
Asad, the state of old age is an instrument gesturing toward mortality, and from my stooped posture, I have acquired the playful curve of an eyebrow.
Comments · 0
Free — just your email. You'll come right back here.
No comments yet. Be the first.