Ghazal
अब के भी सैर-ए-बाग़ की जी में हवस रही
This ghazal captures the intense yearning and deep emotion of separation (virah). The poet expresses that the desire for strolling in the garden (safar-e-bagh) still lingers, even though he is confined to his place like a corner in a cage (kunz-e-qafas). It is a poignant portrayal of love's memories and the tears of longing.
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1
अब के भी सैर-ए-बाग़ की जी में हवस रही
अपनी जगह बहार में कुंज-ए-क़फ़स रही
Even now, there is a craving in the spirit for a stroll through the garden,
While in its own place, the grove of the cage remains.
Even now, there is a craving in the spirit for a stroll through the garden, while in its own place, the grove of the cage remains.
2
मैं पा-शिकस्ता जा न सका क़ाफ़िले तलक
आती अगरचे देर सदा-ए-जरस रही
I could not reach the caravan's foot, even if the sound of the bell continued forever.
I could not reach the caravan's foot, even if the sound of the bell continued forever.
3
लुत्फ़-ए-क़बा-ए-तंग पे गुल का बजा है नाज़
देखी नहीं है उन ने तिरी चोली चस रही
On the shawl of your beauty, the flower has played with grace,
They have never seen your waist, which is so sweet to gaze.
On the tight shawl of your beauty, the flower has displayed grace; they have never seen your waist, which is so sweet to gaze.
4
दिन-रात मेरी आँखों से आँसू चले गए
बरसात अब के शहर में सारे बरस रही
Tears have flowed from my eyes day and night,
The rain is now falling over this city.
Tears have flowed from my eyes day and night, and now the entire city is immersed in rain.
5
ख़ाली शगुफ़्तगी से जराहत नहीं कोई
हर ज़ख़्म याँ है जैसे कली हो बक्स रही
From the emptiness of the chest, there is no wound,
Every wound is like a bud that is blooming.
There is no wound from the emptiness of the chest; every wound is like a bud that is blooming. Literally, the couplet suggests that the absence of emotional turmoil prevents any injury, and every wound is actually flourishing like a blooming flower.
6
दीवानगी कहाँ कि गरेबाँ से तंग हूँ
गर्दन मिरी है तौक़ में गोया कि फँस रही
What kind of madness is this, that I am weary of your efforts,
My neck feels like it is caught in a snare.
What kind of madness is this, that I am weary of your efforts, my neck feels like it is caught in a snare.
7
जों सुब्ह इस चमन में न हम खुल के हँस सके
फ़ुर्सत रही जो 'मीर' भी सो यक-नफ़स रही
Oh, how we cannot laugh freely in this garden, even if 'Mir' had just a moment's leisure.
Oh, how we cannot laugh freely in this garden, even if 'Mir' had just a moment's leisure.
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