Mozoo’-e-Sukhan (Gul Hui Jaati Hai…)


Gul hui jaati hai afsurdah sulagti hui shaam,
Dhul ke niklegi chasma’ee maahtaab se raat,
Aur mushtaaq nigaahon ki suni jaayegi,
Aur un haathon se mas honge, Yeh tarse hue haath.

Un ka aanchal hai keh rukhsaar keh pairaahan hai,
Kuch toh hai jis se hoti hai chilman rangeen,
Jaane us zulf ki mauhoom ghani chaaon me,
Timtimaata hai woh aaweezah abhi tak keh nahi.

Aaj phir husn-e-dil-aara ki wohi dhaj hogi,
Wohi khaabeeda si aankhen, Wohi kaajal ki lakeer,
Rang-e-rukhsaar pe halka sa woh ghaaze ka ghubaar,
Sandali haath pe dhundli si hina ki tehreer.

Apne afkaar ki, Ash’aar ki duniya hai yehi,
Jaan-e-mazmoon hai yehi, Shaahid-e-m’aana hai yehi,
Aaj tak surkh-o-siyaah sadiyon ke saaye ke tale,
Aadam-o-havva ki aulaad pe kya guzri hai?
Maut aur zeest ki rozaanah saf-aarai mein,
Hum pe kya guzregi, Ajdaad pe kya guzri hai?

In damakte hue shehron ki faraawaan makhlooq,
Kyun faqat marne ki hasrat mein jiya karti hai?
Yeh haseen khet, phata padta hai joban jin ka,
Kis liye in mein faqat bhook uga karti hai?

Yeh har ek simt par asraar kadi deewarein,
Jal bujhe jin mein hazaaron ki jawaani ke chiraagh,
Yeh har ik gaam peh un khaabon ki maqtal-gaahein,
Jin ke partoo se charaaghaan hain hazaaron ke dimaagh.

Yeh bhi hai, Aise kai aur bhi mazmoon honge,
Lekin us shokh ke aahista se khulte hue hont,
Haye! Us jism ke kam-bakht dil-aaweez khatoot,
Aap hi kahiye, kahin aise bhi afsoon honge?

Apna mozoo’-e-sukhan in ke siwa aur nahin,
Tab’-e-shaa’ir ka watan in ke siwa aur nahin…….

My Poetry and My Muse (English Translation by Ashok Subramanian)

The ashes of a melancholy evening crumbles,
To give way to night, bathed in silver moonlight,
When expectant stares would be rewarded,
My pinings would effervesce, at her gentle touch.

Is it her garb, or the facade of her countenance,
Or a spark that illuminates the murk,
Or through the refuge of her fancied tresses,
Shines ebullient the orb of night?

Tonight, my beloved’s familiar form shall overwhelm,
Her latent kohl-laden stares shall pierce,
With a hint of rouge, Her effulgent cheeks,
Her pearly hands, Ornately embellished with Henna!

Thus the cosmos of my musings, My poetry,
She manifests my soul and every resolve,
Under dark shadows that centuries cast,
What did humanity painfully endure?
Vacillating between abodes of life and death,
Would I endure my unpleasant inheritance?

The abundant hordes, Of alluring cities,
Why merely death inspires their existence?
These charming pastures, Once teeming with life,
Why merely reaps hunger now in fecundity?

The obstinate, abstruse, cluttered hurdles,
That doused the flames of countless youth,
At every stride, A million dreams guillotined,
To illuminate a billion ignited minds!

And thus, There would spring numerous rimes,
The graceful parting of her playful lips,
Ah! The wretched beauty of her material form,
Opine! Is there a greater enchantment?

Devoid of my muse, My poetry ceases to exist,
A poet’s dream, His identity ceases to exist………….

Mere Dil Mere Musafir

mere dil mere musafir
hua phir se hukm sadir
ke vatan badar hon hum tum
dein gali gali sadayen
karen rukh nagar nagar ka
ke surag koi payen
kisi yar-e-namabar ka
har ek ajnabi se poochen
jo pata tha apne ghar ka
hamein din se rat karna
kabhi is se bat karna
kabhi us se bat karna
tumhein kya kahun ke kya hai
shab-e-gham buri bala hai
hamein ye bhi tha ganimat
jo koi shumar hota
hamein kya bura tha marna
agar ek bar hota


O Traveller! My Heart!
Translation by A K Mota

The decree was passed for us,
To leave this beloved land,
To Cry and weep in distant lands.
Sitting in alien cities,
We search for the postman
to bring us letters from our land.
From every stranger we seek
The fate of our left over dwellings.
In this land of unknown people
We have been ordained to spend our days and nights.
O Heart! Pass this time by talking to this or that fellow.
Do not ask us the pangs and agony of
This terrible evening of sorrow.
Even this living was better Heart!
If only we were made to know for how many days more.
For us even death was not unwelcome
Should it visit once only?
O Traveller! My Heart!

My Heart, My Traveler
Translation by Hamid Rahim Sheikh

My heart, my fellow traveler
It has been decreed again
That you and I be exiled,
go calling out in every street,
turn to every town.
To search for a clue
of a messenger from our Beloved.
To ask every stranger
the way back to our home.

In this town of unfamiliar folk
we drudge the day into the night
Talk to this stranger at times,
to that one at others.

How can I convey to you, my friend
how horrible is a night of loneliness
It would suffice to me
if there were just some count
I would gladly welcome death
if it were to come but once.

Ya Mujhe Afsar-e-Shahana Banaya Hota – Bahadur Shah Zafar

ya mujhe afsar-e-shahana banaya hota,
ya mera taj gadayana banaya hota

khaksaari ke liye garche banaya tha mujhe,
kaaash sang-e-dar-e-jaanana banaya hota

nasha-e-ishq ka gar zarf diya tha mujh ko,
umr ka tang na paimana banaya hota

dil-e-sid chaak banaya to bala se lekin,
zulf-e-maskeen ka teri shaanah banaya hota

sufion ke jo na tha laeq-e-sohbat to mujhe,
qaabil-e-jalsa-e-rindaana banaya hota

tha jalana hii agar douri-e-saqi se mujhe,
to chiraag-e-dar-e-mai khana banaya hota

apna deewana banaya mujhe hota tune
kyun khiradmand banaya na banaya hota

sholaa-e-husn chaman mein na dikhaaya us ne
varanaa bulbul ko bhii parwana banayaa hota

roz maamura-e-duniya mein kharabi hain "zafar",
aisi basti ko to veerana banaya hota!

Hum Ke Thehre Ajnabee

hum ke Thairey ajnabi itni madaraatooN ke baad
phir banain gaiN aashnaa kitni mulaqatooN ke baad

Kab nazar maiN aaey ge bai_daGh sabzey ki bahar
Khoon ke dhabbey dhulain gaiN kitni barsaatooN ke baad

dil to chaaha par shikasht-e-dil nay muhlat he na di
kuch giley shikvey bhi kar laitey manajaatooN ke baad

thay buhat bai_dard lamhey Khatm-e-dard-e-ishq ke
theeN buhat bai_mehar subhaiN meherbaaN raatooN ke baad

un se jo kehney gaey thai "faiz" jaaN sadqa kiye
unkahee he reh gai voh baat sab baatooN ke baad

hum ke thehre ajnabee



Translation by Sadia…re-ajnabi.html

Hospitalities exchanged, yet we who strangers stay
With how many encounters, shall amiability display?

After how many rains, shall the blood stains fade,
And when, in our sight, shall unspotted fields sway?

All that the heart desired, its breaking permitted not,
No grievance did those contained praises betray.

Merciless were moments, that witnessed the end of pain,
Benevolent nights brought in a cruel break of day.

That which, on your life, you determined to convey
Unspoken on your lips, Faiz, the decided words lay