A few couplets of this ghazal were used in the Hindi film Haider, sung beautifully by Aritjit Sen. The original composition is that of Mehdi Hassan (see at the end of this post).
My Translation:
Adding colour to flowers, let the new spring breeze come
so that the dealings of garden could ensue, please come
The Cage is sad friends, please call out to the wind
Somewhere, for God’s sake, my beloved’s reference must come
At least one morning must begin with a fleeting touch of your lips
Scented with the musk of your hair, at least a night must come
This heart may be poor but the bond of pain is not trivial
Hearing your name, some sympathetic to me shall come
I had to, so I endured the evening of separation, but;
To embellish your inevitable future my tears have come
Before my beloved, documented proof of my passion was summoned
Clutching at the shreds of my honour I have come
No sojourn was to my liking along the way, ‘Faiz’
After I left beloved’s alley, straight to gallows I have come
Mein kya likhun ke jo mera tumhara rishta hai wo ashiqi ki zuban me kahin bhi darj nahi likha gaya hai bohot lutf-e-wasl-o-dard-e-firaq magar ye kaifiyat apni raqam nahi hai kahin ye apna ishq hum aaghosh jis mein hijr-o-wisal ye apna dard ke hai kab se humdam maah-o-saal is ishq-e khaas ko har ek se chhupaye huay guzar gaya hai zamana gale lagaye huay
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
My translation
How shall I put this? This relationship that you and I share
nowhere has it been inscribed in the language of devotion.
Pleasures of meeting, ache of separation are much marked upon
but nowhere has our state found any mention.
This love of ours holds close both severance and union,
for months and years this pain has been our companion
Keeping a love so rare, concealed without a trace…
ages have passed since the last embrace…
This poem is from the last anthology Ghubar-e-Ayyam by Faiz Ahmed Faiz. See this excellent post by Dr Mirza to know more about the disposition of last poems of the great poet. Also, probably you’d find it interesting to compare my translation of this poem with one by Rukhsana Ahmed. I have been working on this translation for many months… I kept coming back to it again and again but was not satisfied with they way it sounded. Then today I decided that I cannot do better than this and to publish it. Then I looked for and read Rukhsana Ahmed’s translation. It sounds very good and I must say that I’m quite intrigued and surprised by the difference in our interpretations!
Of our relationship, what should I say?
In the language of love nowhere is it inscribed.
Much has been written of love’s joys and pains
But my state of mind has never been described.
This love, where absence and presence entwine,
This pain, an old friend, which since years is mine,
Many have attempted to translate Faiz Ahmed, including yours truly humbly on this blog. The list of prominent Faiz translators includes many who are poets in their own right. Most prominent among these is, arguably, Agha Shahid Ali, whose ‘A Country Without a Post Office’ I consider one of the most brilliant poetic works having their roots in contemporary South Asian realities. Others who have also tried their hand at a few Faiz poems are Khushwant Singh and Vikram Seth. Apart from writing fiction, Khushwant Singh is a prolific translator of Punjabi texts. Vikram Seth, a world renowned novelist also known for his travelogues, is a polyglot and has translated several poets from many languages such as Urdu, Chinese.
In this post I present to you several translations of a very simple and beautiful Qat’a (quartain) of Faiz.
Raat yun dil mein teri khoyi hui yaad aayi, Jaise viraane mein chupke se bahaar aa jaye, Jaise sehraaon mein haule se chale baad-e-naseem, Jaise beemaar ko be-wajhe qaraar aa jaaye.
Khushwant Singh
At night your lost memory stole into my mind
As spring silently appears in the wilderness;
As in desert wastes morning breeze begins to blow
As in one sick beyond hope, hope begins to grow…
Vikram Seth
Last night your faded memory came to me As in the wilderness spring comes quietly, As, slowly, in the desert, moves the breeze, As, to a sick man, without cause, comes peace.
Agha Shahid Ali
At night my lost memory of you returned
and I was like the empty field where springtime,
without being noticed, is bringing flowers;
I was like the desert over which
the breeze moves gently, with great care;
I was like the dying patient
who, for no reason, smiles.
Sarvat Rahman
Last night, your long-lost memory came back to me as though
Spring stealthily should come to a forsaken wilderness
A gentle breeze its fragrance over burning deserts blow
Or, all at once be soothed somehow the sick soul’s distress.
My Translation
The night brought to heart your long lost memory
And felt as though spring arrives in a desolate place
It felt like gentle morning breeze in a desert
As if without a reason the ailing receives solace.
I like Vikram Seth’s translation the best. It is the truest to the original literally and still manages to retain a certain ‘Faiz-like’ quality to the way it sounds. Agha Shahid’s translation is too laboured and wordy. It makes me think that probably his intended readers are western people who, he might have thought, would not get the South Asian idioms. Sarvat Hussain’s translation is a bit awkward in reading so offers little joy and Khushwant Singh’s reading of Faiz seem to me as if his focus is a little different than Faiz. When I read the qat’a, it seems to me that Faiz is describing the effect of this long lost memory presenting itself. Khushwant Singh seems to describing the mode of arrival of the memory.
Habib Jalib was one of the most loved people’s poets of Pakistan though not so well known as other Pakistani Urdu poets in the rest of the subcontinent. I came across his work while reading and researching other contemporary Urdu Pakistani poets. Jalib’s language is, like Ibn-e-insha and unlike Faiz, the plebeian language of the streets. But unlike Insha Jalib does not dabble in satire and subtleties. He is more like Paash who grabs hold of the truth about the oppressor by its neck. He is straight-forward and utterly unafraid.
I attempted a translation of his most popular poem which is also pretty representative of his work and approach.
Deep jis ka mehllaat hi mein jaley, Chand logon ki khushiyon ko le kar chaley, Wo jo saaye mein har maslehat ke paley, Aisey dastoor ko, Sub-he-be-noor ko, Main nahein maanta, Main nahein jaanta.
Main bhi khaaif nahein takhta-e-daar se, Main bhi Mansoor hoon, keh do aghyaar se, Kyun daraatey ho zindaan ki deevar se, Zulm ki baat ko, Jehl ki raat ko, Main nahein maanta, Main nahein jaanta.
“Phool shaakhon pe khilne lagey” tum kaho, “Jaam rindon ko milne lagey” tum kaho, “Chaak seenon kay silne lagey” tum kaho, Iss khule jhooth ko, Zehn ki loot ko, Main nahein maanta, Main nahein jaanta.
Tum nay loota hai sadyon hamaara sukoon, Ab na hum per chalega tumhara fasoon, Charaagar dardmandon ke bantey ho kyun? Tum nahein charaagar, Koi maane magar, Main nahein maanta, Main nahein jaanta.
Jalib used to recite his poetry in an extremely powerful tarannum (a musical rendition) during mushairas (gathering of poets and listeners and public meetings.
My Translation
Whose lamp shines only in mansions,
Which sets out only with a few folk’s elation,
Under the shadow of self-interest which finds protection,That tradition…That dark morning…I shall not revere!
I shall not greet!
I too am not afraid of the powers that be!
I too am Mansoor, go and tell the enemy!
With the prison wall why do you try to scare me?
The tongue of oppression…
The night of ignorance…
I shall not defer to!
I shall not acknowledge!
“Branches are abloom with flowers” you say!
“The thirsty have got to drink” you say!
“Wounds of the heart are being sewn” you say!
This open lie…
A plunder of reason…
I shall not consent to!
I shall not recognise!
For centuries you have pillaged peace that was our
Your spell over us shall have no more power
Why do you pretend to be a healer of those lamenting in grief?
You are no healer!
Even though some may agree…
I shall dis-agree!
I shall not concede!
Lal- A leftist band from Pakistan has remixed Jalib’s rendition of this poem to (what I think is) good effect.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 11,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 4 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
‘Faiz’ is a name of the aural experience that is at once full of sensuous beauty and excruciating reality. It is the name of the artifice that turns words into images. It is the name of the subtle sorcery that stirs extraordinary ardour in ordinary hearts. It is the name of the beacon of hope that inspires weary travellers to plod on.
‘Faiz’ is the name of voice of humanity’s yearning for freedom. It is the name of the voice raised by people so that they may fully determine their own destiny and truly realise their potential. It is the name of voice that pierces the darkness of oppression and illuminates minds. It is the name of the voice that provokes the weak into rebellion… the voice that startles people from their slumber.
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