Ghazal
Shab-e-dard-o-gham Se Arsa Mire Ji Pe Tang Tha
शब-ए-दर्द-ओ-ग़म से अर्सा मिरे जी पे तंग था
This ghazal speaks of being troubled for a long time by an atmosphere of pain and sorrow. The poet wonders if the night was one of separation (firaq) or a day of battle, noting that the pain of the heart's wounds was continuously troubling. It describes the intensity of love's passion and the pain of the heart's wounds.
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1
शब-ए-दर्द-ओ-ग़म से अर्सा मिरे जी पे तंग था
आया शब-ए-फ़िराक़ थी या रोज़-ए-जंग था
The night of sorrow and grief was tormenting my life for ages; was the night of separation, or was it the day of battle?
The night of sorrow and grief had tormented my life for ages; was it the night of separation, or was it the day of battle?
2
कसरत में दर्द-ओ-ग़म की न निकली कोई तपिश
कूचा जिगर के ज़ख़्म का शायद कि तंग था
In the struggle, no heat emerged from pain and sorrow's ache,
Perhaps the alleyway of the heart's wounds was too confined.
During the struggle, no heat emerged from the pain and sorrow's ache; perhaps the path of the heart's wounds was too confined.
3
लाया मिरे मज़ार पे उस को ये जज़्ब-ए-इश्क़
जिस बेवफ़ा को नाम से भी मेरे नंग था
He brought to my grave this affection of love,
To the unfaithful one whose name was also mine.
This affection of love was brought to my grave by that unfaithful one whose name was also mine.
4
देखा है सैद-गा में तिरे सैद का जिगर
बाआनका छिन रहा था पे ज़ौक़-ए-ख़दंग था
In the garden of the Sayyid, your Sayyid's heart saw, / That the passing of time was merely the delight of the self.
In the garden of the Sayyid, your Sayyid's heart witnessed that the passing of time was merely the enjoyment of the self.
5
दिल से मिरे लगा न तिरा दिल हज़ार हैफ़
ये शीशा एक उम्र से मुश्ताक़-ए-संग था
My heart, though attached to yours, is a thousand pieces of glass; I have been longing for your company for an age.
My heart, though attached to yours, is a thousand pieces of glass; I have been longing for your company for an age.
6
मत कर अजब जो 'मीर' तिरे ग़म में मर गया
जीने का इस मरीज़ के कोई भी ढंग था
Oh Meer, do not do such strange things, for in your sorrow, I died; this patient has no way of living.
O Meer, do not do such strange things, for in your sorrow I died; this patient has no way of living.
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