Poems List
Mirza Ghalib
Through you the secret was revealed to the human intellect
That innumerable enigmas are solved by human intellect
You were the complete soul, literary assembly was your body
You adorned as well as remained veiled from the assembly
Your eye is longing to witness that veiled Beauty
Which is veiled in everything as the pathos of life
The assemblage of existence is rich with your harp
As mountain's silence by the brook's melodious harp
The garden of your imagination bestows glory on the universe
From the field of your thought worlds grow like meadows
Life is concealed in the humor of your verse
Picture's lips move with your command of language
Speech is very proud of the elegance of your miraculous lips
Thurayyah is astonished at your style's elegance
Beloved of literature itself loves your style
Delhi's bud is mocking at the rose of Shiraz
Ah! You are resting in the midst of Delhi's ruins
Your counterpart is resting in the Weimar's garden
Matching you in literary elegance is not possible
Till maturity of thought and imagination are combined
Ah! What has befallen the land of India!
Ah! The inspirer of the super-critical eye!
The lock of Urdu's hair still craves for combing
This candle still craves for moth's heart-felt pathos
O Jahanabad! O cradle of learning and art
Your entire super-structure is a silent lament
The sun and the moon are asleep in every speck of your dust
Though innumerable other gems are also hidden in your dust
Does another world-famous person like him also lie buried in you?
Does another gem like him also lie concealed in you?
Jawab-e-Shik
Whatever comes out of the heart is effective
It has no wings but has the power of flight
It has holy origins, it aims at elegance
It rises from dust, but has access to the celestial world
My love was seditious, rebellious and clever
My fearless wailing rent through the sky
On hearing it the sun said, 'Somewhere there is somebody! '
The planets said, 'At the 'Arsh-i-Bar
First Date Tree Saeeded By Abdul Rahman The Firs
You are the apple of my eye,
My heart's delight:
I am remote from my valley,
To me you are the Burning Bush of Sinai!
You are a houri of the Arabian Desert,
Nursed by the Western breeze.
I feel homesick in exile,
You feel homesick in exile:
Prosper in this strange land!
May the morning dew quench your thirst!
The world presents a strange sight:
The vision's mantle is torn apart—
May valour struggle with the waves if it must,
The other side of the river is not to be seen!
Life owes itself to the heat of one's soul:
Flame does not rise from dust.
The Syrian evening's fallen star
Shined brighter in the exile's dawn.
There are no frontiers for the Man of Faith,
He is at home everywhere.
[Translated by the Editors]
*
That blood of pristine vigour is no more;
That yearning heart's power is no more;
Prayer, fasting, hajj, sacrifice survive,
But in thee nature's old dower is no more.
[Translated by Naim Siddiqui]
Not: These verses from Abdul Rahman the First
are quoted in Tarikh al Muqqari. The
following Urdu poem is a liberal
translation (the tree mentioned here was
planted in Madinatut Zahra)
A Spider and A Fly
One day a spider said to a fly
'Though you pass this way daily
My hut has never been honored by you
By making a chance visit inside by you
Though depriving strangers of a visit does not matter
Evading the near and dear ones does not look good
My house will be honored by a visit by you
A ladder is before you if you decide to step in
Hearing this the fly said to the spider,
'Sire, you should entice some simpleton thus
This fly would never be pulled into your net
Whoever climbed your net could never step down'
The spider said, 'How strange, you consider me a cheat
I have never seen a simpleton like you in the world
I only wanted to entertain you
I had no personal gain in view
You have come flying from some unknown distant place
Resting for a while in my house would not harm you
Many things in this house are worth your seeing
Though apparently a humble hut you are seeing
Dainty drapes are hanging from the doors
And I have decorated the walls with mirrors
Beddings are available for guests' comforts
Not to everyone's lot do fall these comforts'.
The fly said, 'All this may very well be
But do not expect me to enter your house
'May God protect me from these soft beds
Once asleep in them getting up again is impossible'
The spider spoke to itself on hearing this talk
'How to trap it? This wretched fellow is clever
Many desires are fulfilled with flattery in the world
All in the world are enslaved with flattery'
Thinking this the spider spoke to the fly thus!
'Madam, God has bestowed great honors on you!
Everyone loves your beautiful face
Even if someone sees you for the first time
Your eyes look like clusters of glittering diamonds
God has adorned your beautiful head with a plume
This beauty, this dress, this elegance, this neatness!
And all this is very much enhanced by singing in flight'.
The fly was touched by this flattery
And spoke, 'I do not fear you any more
I hate the habit of declining requests
Disappointing somebody is bad indeed'
Saying this it flew from its place
When it got close the spider snapped it
The spider had been starving for many days
The fly provided a good leisurely meal
A Mountain and A Squirrel
A mountain was saying this to a squirrel
'Commit suicide if you have self-respect
You are insignificant, still so arrogant, how strange!
You are neither wise, nor intelligent! not even shrewd!
It is strange when the insignificant pose as important!
When the stupid ones like you pose as intelligent!
You are no match in comparison with my splendor
Even the earth is low compared with my splendor
The grandeur of mine does not fall to your lot
The poor animal cannot equal the great mountain! '
On hearing this the squirrel said, 'Hold your tongue!
These are immature thoughts, expel them from your heart!
I do not care if I am not large like you!
You are not a pretty little thing like me
Everything shows the Omni-potence of God
Some large, some small, is the wisdom of God
He has created you large in the world
And He has taught me climbing large trees
You are unable to walk a single step
Only large size! What other greatness have you?
If you are large show me some of the skills I have
Show me how you break this beetle nut as I can
Nothing is useless in this world
Nothing is bad in God's creation
A Longing
O Lord! I have become weary of human assemblages!
When the heart is sad no pleasure in assemblages can be
I seek escape from tumult, my heart desires
The silence which speech may ardently love!
I vehemently desire silence, I strongly long that
A small hut in the mountain's side may there be
Freed from worry I may live in retirement
Freed from the cares of the world I may be
Birds chirping may give the pleasure of the lyre
In the spring's noise may the orchestra's melody be
The flower bud bursting may give God's message to me
Showing the whole world 1 to me this small wine-cup may be
My arm may be my pillow, and the green grass my bed be
Putting the congregation to shame my solitude's quality be
The nightingale be so familiar with my face that
Her little heart harboring no fear from me may be
Avenues of green trees standing on both sides be
The spring's clear water providing a beautiful picture be
The view of the mountain range may be so beautiful
To see it the waves of water again and again rising be
The verdure may be asleep in the lap of the earth
Water running through the bushes may glistening be
Again and again the flowered boughs touching the water be
As if some beauty looking at itself in mirror be
When the sun apply myrtle to the evening's bride
The tunic of every flower may pinkish golden be
When night's travellers falter behind with fatigue
Their only hope my broken earthenware lamp may be
May the lightning lead them to my hut
When clouds hovering over the whole sky be.
The early dawn's cuckoo, that morning's mu'adhdhin2
May my confidante he be, and may his confidante I be
May I not be obligated to the temple or to the mosque
May the hut's hole alone herald of morning's arrival be
When the dew may come to perform the flowers' ablution
May wailing my supplication, weeping my ablution be
In this silence may my heart's wailing rise so high
That for stars' caravan the clarion's call my wailing be
May every compassionate heart weeping with me be
Perhaps it may awaken those who may unconscious be
The goat replied, 'This complaint is unjust
Though truth is always bitter
I shall speak what is fair
This pasture, and this cool breeze
This green grass and this shade
Such comforts, were beyond our lot!
They were a far cry for us speechless poor!
We owe these pleasures to Man
We owe all our happiness to Man
We derive all our prosperity from him
What is better for us, freedom or bondage to him?
Hundreds of dangers lurk in the wilderness
May God protect us from the wilderness!
We are heavily indebted to him
Unjust is our complaint against him
If you appreciate the life's comforts
You would never complain against Man'
Hearing all this the cow felt embarrassed
She was sorry for complaining against Man
She mused over the good and the bad
And thoughtfully she said this
'Small though is the body of the goat
Convincing is the advice of the goat! '
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