Celebrating the Best of Urdu Poetry

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Celebrating the Best of Urdu Poetry Page 2

by Khushwant Singh


  इश्क़ माशूक़ इश्क़ आशिक़ है

  यानी अपना ही मुबतला है इश्क़

  कौन मक़सद को इश्क़ बिन पहुंचा/

  आरज़ू इश्क़ मुद्दआ है इश्क़

  दर्द ही खुद है खुद दावा है इश्क़

  शैख़ क्या जाने तू की क्या है इश्क़

  तू न होवे तो नज़्म-ए-कुल उठ जाये

  सच्चे हैं शायरां खुदा है इश्क़

  Ishq kya hai

  Ishq hee ishq hai jahaan dekho

  Sarey aalam mein bhar rahaa hai ishq

  Ishq maashooq ishq aashiq hai

  Yaanee apnaa hee mubtala hai ishq

  Kaun maqsad ko ishq bin pahoncha

  Aarzoo ishq mudda’a hai ishq

  Dard hee khud hai khud davaa hai ishq

  Shaikh kya jaaney too ki kya hai ishq

  Too na hovey to nazm-e-kul uth jaaye

  Sachchey hain shaairaan khuda hai ishq

  What is Love?

  It is love and only love whichever way you look,

  Love is piled high from the earth to the sky above.

  Love is the Beloved, love the lover too,

  In short, love is itself in love with love.

  Without love, what man his goal attains?

  Love is desire, love its ultimate aim.

  Love is anguish, love the antidote of love’s pain

  O wise man, what would you know of love?

  Without love the order of the universe would be broken

  God is love——truly have the poets spoken.

  बादल, शराब, गुलाब और तू

  मौसम-ए-अब्र हो सुबू भी हो

  गुल हो गुलशन हो और तू भी हो

  Baadal, sharaab, gul aur too

  Mausam-e-abr ho suboo bhee ho

  Gul ho gulshan ho aur too bhee ho

  शमा और परवाना

  कुछ न देखो फिर बाजुज़ यक शोला-ए-पूरपेच-ओ-ताब

  शमा तक तो हमने देखा था की परवाना गया

  Shamaa aur parvaana

  Kuchh na dekha phir bajuz yak shola-e-purpeech-o-taab

  Shamaa tak to hamney dekha thha ki parvaana gayaa

  फ़रियाद

  दिल किस क़दर शगुफ़्ता हुआ था की रात मीर

  आई जो बात लब पे सो फ़रियाद हो गयी

  Fariyaad

  Dil kis qadar shagufta hua thha ki raat Meer

  Aai jo baat lab pey so fariyaad ho gayee

  Clouds, Wine, Roses and You

  The season of clouds, a flask of wine too

  Roses, the rose garden, as well as you.

  The Moth and the Flame

  I saw nothing besides the curving, leaping fire

  The last thing I saw was the moth moving to the fire.

  Cry for Help

  How down-hearted was Meer at night!

  Whatever he said became a cry for help.

  पत्ता-पत्ता बूटा-बूटा

  पत्ता-पत्ता बूटा-बूटा हाल हमारा जाने है

  जाने ना जाने गुल ही ना जाने बाग़ तो सारा जाने है

  चारागारी बीमारी-ए-दिल की रस्म-ए-शहर-ए-हुस्न नही

  वरना दिलबर-ए-नादांन भी इस दर्द का चारा जाने है

  Pattaa-pattaa bootaa-bootaa

  Pattaa-pattaa bootaa-bootaa haal hamaaraa jaaney hai

  Jaaney na jaaney gul hee na jaaney baagh to saaraa jaaney hai

  Chaaraagaree beemaaree-e-dil kee rasm-e-shahar-e-husn naheen

  Varnaa dilbar-e-naadaan bhee is dard ka chaaraa jaaney hai

  शराब का जादू

  शब को वो पिये शराब निकला

  जाना यह की आफताब निकला

  कुर्बान प्याला-ए-मै-नाब

  जिस से की तेरा हिजाब निकला

  Sharaab ka jaadu

  Shab ko vo piye sharaab niklaa

  Jaanaa yeh kee aaftaab niklaa

  Qurbaan pyaalaa-e-mai-naab

  Jis sey kee tera hijaab niklaa

  Each Leaf, Every Flower

  Every leaf of every plant and tree knows of my state

  Only my beloved rose couldn’t care less; the rest of the garden knows my fate.

  It is not as if the beloved is innocent of the cure for pain,

  In the city of beauty it isn’t custom to nurse the sick of heart, why complain?

  The Miracle of Wine

  Last night she emerged, a little drunk

  It was as if the sun was out.

  My life I’d gladly give the wineglass

  That drowned your modesty and brought you out.

  इश्क़ में काफ़िर

  उल्टी हो गई सब तदबीरें कुछ न दवा ने काम किया

  देखा इस बीमारी-ए-दिल ने आख़िर काम तमाम किया

  यां के सफ़ेदो-स्याह में हमको दाख़ला जो है सो इतना है

  रात को रो-रो सुबह किया और दिन को जूं-तूं शाम किया

  मीर के दीनो-मज़हब को अब पूछते क्या हो उन ने तो

  कशक़ा खींचा देर में बैठा कब का तर्क इस्लाम किया

  Ishq mein kaafir

  Ultee ho gaee sab tadbeeren, kuchh na davaa ney kaam kiya

  Dekha is beemaaree-e-dil ney aakhir kaam tamaam kiya

  Yaan key saphed-o-siyaah mein hamko dakkhla jo hai so itnaa hai

  Raat ko ro-ro subah kiya aur din ko joon-toon shaam kiya

  Meer key deen-o-mazhab ko ab poochhtey kya ho un-ney to

  Qashqaa kheenchaa, dair mein baithaa, kab ka tark Islaam kiya

  Infidel in Love

  Nothing I?ve tried has worked, even medicine?s proved useless

  This sickness of the heart has done me in.

  In this black-and-white of life, I have only this much say

  The nights I spend shedding tears; somehow I make it through the day.

  What is Meer?s faith, what religion is he, do you want to know?

  He wears a sacred mark on his forehead and sits in a temple; he used to be Muslim long ago.

  SHEIKH GHULAM HAMDANI MUS-HAFI

  (1747–1823)

  Mus-hafi was born in Amroha, a small town to the east of Delhi, and moved to Delhi during the reign of Shah Alam, joining the company of the Red Fort. He moved to Lucknow soon after, where he was employed at the court of a distinguished nawab. Mus-hafi was replaced by his rival Insha, and often attacked the society that had spurned him. A bon vivant and very outspoken, he made his name as a poet using simple everyday language. He also left behind accounts of the lives of the poets that preceded him. He died in Lucknow in 1823.

  मुसाफ़िर-ए-बेकस

  हसरत ये उस मुसाफ़िर-ए-बे-कस की रोइये

  जो थक के बैठ जाता हो मंज़िल के सामने

  Musaafir-e-bekas

  Hasrat ye us musaafir-e-bekas kee roiye

  Jo thhak key baith jaataa h
o manzil key saamney

  ख़्वाब था या ख़्याल था

  ख़्वाब था या ख़्याल था क्या था

  हिजर था या विशाल था क्या था

  चमकी बिज़ली सी पर ना समझे हम

  हुस्न था या जामाल था क्या था

  Khvaab thhaa ya khayaal thhaa

  Khvaab thhaa ya khayaal thhaa kyaa thhaa

  Hijr thhaa ya vishaal thhaa kyaa thhaa

  Chamkee bijlee see par na samjhey hum

  Husn thhaa ya jamaal thhaa kya thhaa

  The Helpless Traveller

  Spare your tears for the helpless traveller’s plight

  Who tired sits by the wayside when his destination is in sight.

  Was it a Dream or Memory

  Was it a dream or a memory of you, I do not know

  Was it separation from you or union, I do not know.

  Was it lightning that flashed before me, I do not know

  Was it your beauty or His spelndour, I do not know.

  BAHADUR SHAH ZAFAR

  (1775–1862)

  Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal emperor, was born in 1775. By the time he ascended the throne, the empire had shrunk to the capital Shahjahanabad (Delhi) and its surroundings and he was emperor only in name, confined to the Red Fort where he ruled over a vast harem of courtesans, their offspring (salateen) and eunuchs. When the sepoys rose in revolt against the British in the summer of 1857, they forced Bahadur Shah to become their leader. He was not cut out to be one and was more interested in composing poetry and organizing mushairas. When the British and their Indian allies crushed the uprising, Bahadur Shah was put on trial for his role in the Mutiny, convicted and exiled to Burma. He lived the last few years of his life in Rangoon, where he died and is buried.

  खुदा

  न देखा वो कहीं जलवा

  जो देखा ख़ाना-ए-दिल में

  बहुत मस्जिद में सर मारा

  बहुत सा ढूंढा बुतख़ाना

  Khuda

  Na dekha vo kaheen Jalva

  Jo dekha khaana-e-dil mein

  Bahut masjid mein sar maara

  Bahut sa dhoonda butkhaana

  आदमी और खुदा

  ज़फर आदमी उसको न जानियेगा वह कैसा ही साहब-ए-फ़हमो-ज़का का

  जिसे ऐश में याद-ए-खुदा न रही जिसे तैश में ख़ौफ़-ए-खुदा न रहा

  Aadmi aur Khuda

  Zafar aadmi usko na jaaniyega voh ho kaisa hee saahab-e-fahm-o-zakaa ka

  Jisey aish mein yaad-e-khuda na rahee jisey taish mein khauf-e-khuda na rahaa

  God Within

  Nowhere did I see the Splendour

  That I saw in the cave of my heart,

  Many times I dashed my head in the mosque

  Many times in the temple of idols Him I sought.

  Man and His Maker

  O Zafar! Know him not as a man, however clever, wise, benign;

  Who in pleasure?s pursuit forgets his God, in anger?s passion, wrath divine.

  ग़ज़ल

  बात करनी मुझे मुश्किल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  जैसी अब है तेरी महफ़िल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  ले गया छीन के कौन आज तेरा सब्रो-क़रार

  बेक़रारी तुझे ऐ दिल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  चश्मे-क़ातिल मेरी दुश्मन थी हमेशा लेकिन

  जैसे अब हो गई क़ातिल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  उनकी आंखों ने खुदा जाने किया क्या जादू

  की तबीयत मेरी माइल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  अकसे-रूख़े-यार ने किससे है तुझे चमकाया

  ताब तुझमें माहे-कामिल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  क्या सबब तू जो बिगड़ता है ज़फ़र से हर बार

  ख़ूब तेरी हूरे-शमाइल कभी ऐसी तो न थी

  Ghazal

  Baat karnee mujhey mushkil kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Jaisee ab hai teree mehfil kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Ley gayaa chheen key kaun aaj teraa sabr-o-qaraar

  Beqaraaree tujhey ai dil kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Chashm-e-qaatil meree dushman thhee hameshaa lekin

  Jaisi ab ho gaee qaatil kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Unkee aankhon ney khuda jaaney kiyaa kyaa jaadoo

  Ki tabeeyat meree maa’il kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Aks-e-rukh-e-yaar ney kissey hai tujhey chamkaayaa

  Taab tujh mein maah-e-kaamil kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Kyaa sabab too jo bigadtaa hai Zafar sey har baar

  Khoo teree hoor-e-shamaa’il kabhee aisee to na thhee

  Ghazal

  I was never at a loss for words, almost dumb

  Your gatherings were never what they?ve now become.

  Who has robbed you of your patience, your peace of mind?

  You were never this restless, dear heart, as now I find.

  The assassin?s eyes were always my enemy

  They have become even more venomous I can see.

  God alone knows what sorcery her eyes contain

  My spirits were never so low, as everyone can tell.

  The reflection of my beloved?s face has a new shine

  The full moon never lit the skies with such lustre divine.

  Why is it that Zafar can do nothing right in your eyes?

  You never behaved like the heartless houris of paradise.

  शान-ए-हिदुस्तान

  हिदुस्तान की भी अजब सरज़मीन है

  जिसमें वफ़ा-ओ-महर-ओ-मोहब्बत का है वफ़ूर

  जैसे की आफ़ताब निकालता है शर्क़ से

  इख़लास का हुआ है इसी मुल्क से ज़हूर

  है असला तुख़्म-ए-हिन्द और इस ज़मीन से

  फैला है इस जहां में मेवा दूर दूर

  Shaan-e-Hindustan

  Hindustan kee bhee ajab sarzameen hai

  Jis mein wafaa-o-mehr-o-mohabbat ka hai wafoor

  Jaisey ki aaftaab nikalta hai sharq sey

  Ikhlaas ka hua hai isee mulk sey zahoor

  Hai asl tukhm-e-Hind aur is zameen sey

  Phaila hai is jahaan mein ye mevaa door door

  नाकारा

  न किसी की आंख का नूर हूं

  न किसी के दिल का क़रार हूं

  जो किसी के काम न आ सके

  मैं वो एक मुश्त-ए-ग़ुबार हूं

  Naakaara

  Na kisee kee aankh ka noor hoon

  Na kisee key dil ka qaraar hoon

  Jo kisee key kaam na aa sakey

  Main vo ek musht-e-ghubaar hoon

  Ode to Hindustan

  Matchless is the soil of Hindustan

  In it grow love, compassion and fidelity,

  As sure as the sun rises from the east

  So surges from this land sincerity.

  This is the true seed of Hind and from its earth

  These fruits have spread across the world, far and wide.

  Usele
ss Existence

  (attributed to Zafar but believed to be the words of Muztar Khairabadi)

  I am not the light of anyone's eye

  I am not the comfort of anyone's heart

  Of no use to anyone am I:

  I am just a fistful of dust.

  SHEIKH IBRAHIM ZAUQ

  (1789–1854)

  Zauq was Ghalib?s contemporary and their rivalry was well known. The son of a common soldier in the Mughal army, Zauq was born in Delhi. He was stricken by small pox when he was a child and barely survived. Zauq was sent to a maktab (elementary religious school) run by Hafiz Ghulam Rasool (Shauq) who dabbled in poetry. Under his influence the young Mohammed Ibrahim began composing poetry and, as suggested by his mentor, adopted ?Zauq? (man of taste) as his pseudonym. Though he could not complete his course in the maktab, he was able to impress Shah Naseer, the most popular poet of Delhi at the time, who accepted him as a pupil. Gradually, Zauq began participating in mushairas and made a name for himself.

  Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar appointed him poet laureate of the Mughal court. Zauq died in 1854 and was buried in the grounds of Delhi College outside Ajmeri Gate.

 

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