Celebrating the Best of Urdu Poetry Read online

  ज़िंदगी और मौत

  लाई हयात क़ज़ा ले चली चले

  अपनी ख़ुशी न आये न अपनी ख़ुशी चले

  दुनिया ने किसका राह-ए-फ़ना में दिया है साथ

  तुम भी चले चलो यूं ही जब तक चली चले

  Zindagee aur maut

  Laaee hayaat aaye qazaa ley chalee chaley

  Apnee khushee na aaye na apnee khushi chaley

  Duniya ney kiska rah-e-fanaa mein diya hai saath

  Tum bhee chaley chalo yoon hee jab tak chalee chaley

  पाक पापी

  कब हक़ परस्त ज़ाहिद-ए-जन्नत-परस्त है

  हूरों पे मर रहा है ये शहवत परस्त है

  Paak paapee

  Kab haq parast zaahid-e-jannat-parast hai

  Hooron pey mar rahaa hai ye shahvat parast hai

  Life and Death

  I came into the world, now death stands at my door,

  I came not of my pleasure, nor do I go at my leisure.

  Who in this world accompanies you on the road to death?

  Keep going on your own, till you take your last breath.

  The Saintly Sinner

  He preaches morals and pines for paradise, but this too is true:

  He will give his life for houris, he also loves to screw.

  मुल्ला और मैखाना

  ज़ौक़ जो मदरसे के बिगड़े हुए हैं मुल्ला

  उनको मैख़ाने में ले आओ संवर जाएंगे

  Mullah aur maikhaana

  Zauq jo madarsey key bigdey huey hain mullah

  Unko maikhaaney mein ley aao sanvar jaaengey

  मुल्ला और मैखाना

  आंख से आंख है लड़ती मुझे दर है दिल का

  कहीं ये जाए ना इस जंगो-जदल में मारा

  Jung

  Aankh sey aankh hai ladtee mujhey dar hai dil ka

  Kaheen ye jaaye na is joang-o-jadal mein maaraa

  The Mullah and the Tavern

  The mullahs ruined by the madrassas, O Zauq,

  Bring them to the tavern, they?ll be right again.

  War

  I fear for the poor heart as eyes lock with eyes,

  In this war and battle, he might be the one who dies.

  MIRZA ASADULLAH KHAN GHALIB

  (1796––1869)

  Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib’s Turkish ancestors were soldiers of fortune who served in the armies of the Mughals as well as the Hindu rajas. But Asadullah Khan, a tall, strapping, powerfully built, handsome young man, chose to make his career as a poet. He began composing in Persian but later wrote in Urdu. At the age of thirteen he was married to eleven-year-old Umrao Begum, a distant relative of the Nawab of Loharu. She bore him seven children all of whom died in their infancy as did their adopted son. The elegy the poet composed on his son’s death is included in this selection. Asadullah Khan adopted the pen name ‘Ghalib’ (conqueror) but often used ‘Asad’ (lion) as well. He moved to Delhi and spent most of his life in a haveli in Gali Qasim Jan in Balimaran. Ghalib was frequently invited to the court of Bahadur Shah Zafar.

  An iconoclast, a hard drinker and a gambler, Ghalib was jailed at least twice for not paying his debts and gambling. Ghalib was never able to afford the lifestyle he wanted and was forever looking for patrons including the British government to make ends meet.

  Ghalib died in Delhi and was buried close to the dargah of Nizamuddin Auliya and the grave of Amir Khusro. His tomb has become a place of pilgrimage for lovers of Urdu poetry, as he is generally acknowledged as the greatest Urdu poet.

  पैकर-ए-तस्वीर

  नक़्श फ़रियादी है किस की शोख़ी-ए-तहरीर का

  काग़ज़ी है पैरहन हर पैकर-ए-तस्वीर का

  Paikar-e-tasveer

  Naqsh faryaadee hai kis kee shoukhee-e-tehreer ka

  Kaaghazee hai pairahan har paikar-e-tasveer ka

  शराब

  ग़ालिब छुटी शराब पर अब भी कभी-कभी

  पीटा हूं रोज़-ए-अब्र-ओ-शब-ए-माहताब में

  Sharaab

  Ghalib chhutee sharaab par ab bhee kabhee kabhee

  Peeta hoon roz-e-abr-o-shab-e-maahtaab mein

  साग़रो-मीना

  गो हाथ को जुंबिश नहीं आंखों में तो दम है

  रहने दो अभी साग़र-ओ-मीना मेरे आगे

  Saaghar-o-meena

  Go haath ko jumbish naheen aankhon mein to dam hai

  Rehney do abhee saaghar-o-meena merey aagey

  A Picture

  A picture speaks for itself, what learned exposition does it need?

  The paper on which it is painted is only its outer garment: it tells its own tale indeed.

  On Drinking

  Ghalib foreswore wine! But from time to time it’s true

  When dark clouds span the skies,

  And nights are lit by the moon

  He breaks his vow and takes a sip or two.

  The Jug and the Cup

  Though I can no longer stretch my hands

  I still have life’s sparkle in my eyes;

  Let the jug of wine and cup remain

  Before me where they lie.

  इश्क़

  इश्क़ से तबीयत ने ज़ीस्त का मज़ा पाया

  दर्द की दावा पायी दर्द-ए-ला-दवा पाया

  Ishq

  Ishq sey tabeeyat ney zeest ka mazaa paaya

  Dard kee davaa paayee dard-e-la-davaa paaya

  तलाश

  चलता हूं थोड़ी दूर हर इक तेज़ रौ के साथ

  पहचानता नहीं हूं अभी राहबर को मैं

  Talaash

  Chaltaa hoon thhoree door har ik tez rau key saath

  Pehchaanta naheen hoon abhee raahbar ko main

  Love

  Love gave me the lust for living—

  To ease my pain it gave me something for sure;

  It gave me such pain that nothing can cure.

  The Search

  A short distance I go along with every speedy wayfarer,

  I have yet to find the one I will follow as my leader.

  चूमना

  ग़ुंचा-ए-नाशिगुफ़्ता को दूर से मत दिखा के यूं

  बोसे को पूछता हूं मैं मुंह से मुझे बता की यूं

  Choomna

  Ghooncha-e-nashigufta ko door sey mat dikha key yoon

  Bosey ko poochhta hoon main munh sey mujhey bataa ki yoon

  बुलालों मुझे

  मेहरबां होके बुलालों मुझे चाहो जिस वक़्त

  मैं गया वक़्त नहीं हूं की फिर आ भी न सकूं

  Bulaalo mujhey

  Mehrbaan hokey bulaalo mujhey chaaho jis vaqt

  Main gayaa vaqt naheen hoon ki phir aa bhee na sakoon

  On a Kiss

  Do not pout your lips at me like a half-opened rosebud from afar

  All I ask you for is a kiss

  Let your lips give me the answer:

  ‘It is done like this.’

  Send for Me

  Have mercy and send for me

  Any time y
ou so desire;

  Time gone is forever gone, it’s true——

  I am not time,

  I can always return to you.

  इख़तैयार किए गए बेटे की मौत पे

  लाज़िम था की देखो मेरा रास्ता कोई दिन और

  तनहा गये क्यों अब रहो तनहा कोई दिन और

  जाते हुये कहते हो क़यामत को मिलेंगे

  क्या ख़ूब क़यामत का है गोया कोई दिन और

  तुम माह-ए-शब-ए-चार-दहुम थे मेरे घर के

  फिर क्यों न रहा घर का वह नक़्शा कोई दिन और

  मुझसे तुम्हें नफ़रत सही नय्यर से लड़ाई

  बच्चों का भी देखा न तमाशा कोई दिन और

  नादां हैं जो कहते हैं की क्यों जीते हो ग़ालिब

  क़िस्मत में है मरने की तमन्ना कोई दिन और

  Ikhtiyaar kiye gaye betey kee maut pey

  Laazim thha ki dekho mera rastaa koi din aur

  Tanha gaye kyon ab raho tanha koi din aur

  Jaatey huey kehtey ho qayaamat ko milengey

  Kya khoob qayaamat ka hai goya koi din aur

  Tum mah-e-shab-e-char-dahum thhey merey ghar key

  Phir kyon na rahaa ghar ka yey naqshaa koi din aur

  Mujhsey tumhein nafrat sahi Nayyar sey ladaee

  Bachchon ka bhee dekha na tamaasha koi din aur

  Naadaan hain jo kehtey hain ki kyon jeetey ho Ghalib

  Qismat mey hai marney kee tamanna koi din aur

  On the Death of an Adopted Son

  You should have waited for me a few days more.

  Why did you leave alone? —now stay alone a few days more.

  As you went away, you said, ‘We will meet on Judgement Day.’

  Such illusions of Judgement I must live a few days more.

  You were ever the full moon of my blighted home,

  Why couldn’t it remain lit up a few days more?

  You may despise me, You may hate everything that lights up my life;

  You wouldn’t even abide the laughter of children a few days more.

  They are fools who ask me, ‘Why do you go on living, Ghalib?’

  It is my fate to long for death a few day more.

  ज़िंदगी का सफ़र

  रौ में है रख़्श-ए-उम्र कहां देखिये थमे

  नै हाथ बाग पर है न पा है रकाब में

  Zindagi ka safar

  Rau mein hai rakhsh-e-umr kahaan dekhiye thhamey

  Naey haath baag par hai na paa hai rakaab mein

  खुदा

  न था कुछ तो खुदा था कुछ न होता तो खुदा होता

  डुबोया मुझ को होने ने न होता मैं तो क्या होता

  Khuda

  Na thha kuchh to khuda thha kuchh na hota to khuda hota

  Duboya mujh ko honey ney na hota main to kya hota

  Life’s Journey

  Life travels at a galloping pace, I know not where it will stop;

  The reins are not in my hands, nor my feet in the stirrups.

  On God

  When there was nothing, there was God, had nothing existed there would be God;

  My being has been my ruin: tell me, had I not existed, what would be lost?

  बुढ़ापे की आह

  दिल से तेरी निगाह जिगर तक उतर गई

  दोनों को इक अदा में रज़ामन्द कर गई

  वह बाड़ा-ए-शबाना की सरमस्तियां कहां

  उठिये बस अब की लज़्ज़त-ए-ख़्वाब-ए-सहर गई

  देखो तो दिलफ़रेबी-ए-अंदाज़-ए-नक़्श-ए-पा

  मौज-ए-ख़िराम-ए-यार भी क्या गुल कतार गई

  नज़्ज़ारे ने भी काम किया वां निक़ाब का

  मस्ती से हर निगाह तेरे रुख़ पर बिखर गई

  फ़रदा-ओ-दी का तिफ़रिक़ा यक बार मिट गया

  कल तुम गये की हं पे क़यामत गुज़र गई

  मारा ज़माने ने असदउल्लाह खां तुम्हें

  वह वलवले कहां वह जवानी किधर गई

  Burhapey kee aah

  Dil sey teree nigaah jigar tak utar gaee

  Dono ko ik adaa mein razaamand kar gaee

  Voh baada-e-shabaana kee sarmastiyaan kahaan

  Utthiye bas ab ki lazzat-e-khwaab-e-sahar gaee

  Dekho to dilfarebee-e-andaaz-e-naqsh-e-paa

  Mauj-e-khiraam-e-yaar bhee kya gul katar gaee

  Nazzaarey ney bhee kaam kiya vaan niqaab ka

  Mastee sey har nigah terey rukh par bikhar gaee

  Farda-o-dee ka tifriqa yak baar mit gayaa

  Kal tum gaye ki hum pey qayaamat guzar gaee

  Maara zamaaney ney Asadullah Khan tumhein

  Voh valvaley kahaan voh javaanee kidhar gaee

  Lament of Old Age

  Your gaze travelled from my heart to my core (in such a fashion)

  That in one glance it was both my love and my passion.

  Where has the headiness of youth’s evening drink gone?

  It’s time to get up and go, gone are the sweet dreams of dawn.

  This bewitching pattern of footprints—to whom do they belong?

  Was it my beloved scattering rose petals as she went along?

  My (very) vision blinded me like a veil

  As every eye fell upon your face unveiled.

  I cannot tell the difference between yesterday and today

  Since you left, all are the same, everything falls away.

  Asadullah Khan, time has taken its toll and left you for dead

  What happened to all the carousels, where’s your youth fled?

  ग़ज़ल १

  यह न थी हमारी क़िस्मत की विसाल-ए-यार होता

  अगर और जीते रहते यही इन्तिज़ार होता

  तेरे वादे पर जिये हम जो यह जान झूट जाना

  कि खुशी से मर न जाते अगर एतबार होता

  कोई मेरे दिल से पूछे तेरे तीर-ए-नीमकश को

  यह ख़लिश कहां से होती जो जिगर के पार होता

  राग-ए-संग से टपकता वह लहू कि फिर न थमता

  जिसे ग़म समझ रहे हो यह अगर शरार होता

  कहूं किससे मैं कि क्या है शब-ए-ग़म भरी बाला है

  मिझे क्या बुरा था मरना अगर एक बार होता

  Ghazal ƒ १

  Yeh na thhee hamaree qismat ki visaal-e-yaar hota

  Agar aur jeetey rehtey yahee intizaar hota

  Terey vaadey par jiye hum jo yeh jaan jhoot jaana

  Ki khushee sey mar na jaatey agar aitbaar hota

  Koi merey dil sey poochhey terey teer-e-neemkash ko

  Yeh khalish kah
aan sey hotee jo jigar key paar hota

  Rag-e-sang sey tapakta voh lahoo ki phir na thhamta

  Jisey gham samajh rahey ho yeh agar sharaar hota

  Kahoon kissey main ki kya hai shab-e-gham buree bala hai

  Mujhey kya bura thha marnaa agar ek baar hota

  Ghazal 1

  To be united with the beloved was not writ in my fate,

  Had I lived any longer, it would have been the same long wait.

  I lived on your promises, I knew they were not true,

  Would not I have died of joy had I believed in you?

  Ask my heart about the pain of love and it will tell you

  The half-drawn bow’s the assassin, not the arrow that pierces through.

  The stone’s veins would burst and nothing would stem blood’s flow,