Ghazal
आए हैं 'मीर' काफ़िर हो कर ख़ुदा के घर में
This ghazal uses a satirical and self-aware tone, with the poet 'Mir' describing his arrival at the house of God as a 'kafir' (infidel). It delves into the profound pain of love and life, portraying a beauty that is both captivating and agonizing. Ultimately, it is a contemplation on the complexity of the human mind and spiritual dissonance.
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1
आए हैं 'मीर' काफ़िर हो कर ख़ुदा के घर में
पेशानी पर है क़श्क़ा ज़ुन्नार है कमर में
'Mir' has come to the house of God, having become a heathen; upon his forehead is a crown of falsehood, and in his waist is a braid of illusion.
Mir has entered the house of God as an infidel, wearing a religious mark on his forehead and a sacred thread around his waist, blending different spiritual symbols together.
2
नाज़ुक बदन है कितना वो शोख़-चश्म दिलबर
जान उस के तन के आगे आती नहीं नज़र में
How delicate is her body, how mischievous are her eyes, oh beloved,
The life (or soul) of her body does not come into my sight.
How delicate is the physical form of that mischievous-eyed beloved. Compared to the extreme refinement and radiance of their body, even the soul remains invisible to the eye.
3
सीने में तीर उस के टूटे हैं बे-निहायत
सुराख़ पड़ गए हैं सारे मिरे जिगर में
In my chest, the arrows of his broken heart are countless,
All the holes have appeared within my core.
Countless arrows of the beloved have broken deep inside my chest, leaving my heart completely riddled with holes.
4
आइंदा शाम को हम रोया कुढ़ा करेंगे
मुतलक़ असर न देखा नालीदन-ए-सहर में
Tonight, we will weep a torrent of tears,
In the stream of dawn's sorrow, no lasting effect was seen.
From now on I will weep and fret in the evenings because I saw absolutely no effect in my morning lamentations.
5
बे-सुध पड़ा रहूँ हूँ उस मस्त-ए-नाज़ बिन मैं
आता है होश मुझ को अब तो पहर पहर में
Without that intoxicated lover, I remain unconscious;
My senses return to me only every few hours.
I lie unconscious without my beloved, who is intoxicated with their own grace. Now, I regain my senses only once in a long while, perhaps every three hours.
6
सीरत से गुफ़्तुगू है क्या मो'तबर है सूरत
है एक सूखी लकड़ी जो बू न हो अगर में
Is the conversation derived from character, or is it the appearance that is reliable?
It is like a dry piece of wood that cannot be lit by fire.
Character is what truly matters; outward appearance holds no value. Just as Agarwood is merely a piece of dry wood without its fragrance, a person without good character lacks true worth regardless of their physical beauty.
7
हम-साया-ए-मुग़ाँ में मुद्दत से हूँ चुनाँचे
इक शीरा-ख़ाने की है दीवार मेरे घर में
In the shadow of the forgotten, I have long been chosen,
A wall of a *sheerkhana* resides within my home.
I have been a neighbor to the tavern-keeper for so long that, consequently, one wall of my house is actually the wall of the wine-distillery itself.
8
अब सुब्ह ओ शाम शायद गिर्ये पे रंग आवे
रहता है कुछ झमकता ख़ूनाब चश्म-ए-तर में
Perhaps the colors will fall upon the morning and evening,
There remains a faint glimmer in the tearful eyes.
Now morning and evening my weeping might finally show some color. A faint glimmer of bloody tears still remains within my moist eyes ready to flow.
9
आलम में आब-ओ-गिल के क्यूँकर निबाह होगा
अस्बाब गिर पड़ा है सारा मिरा सफ़र में
How will I sustain myself in this world, amidst the whirlpools of life?
My entire journey has fallen into ruin.
How will I survive in this world of water and clay? All my belongings and provisions have fallen away during my journey, leaving me with nothing to sustain myself in this material realm.
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