Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Mirza Ghalib

(Selected poetry)

Although love’s pangs may fatal be,

There can for man be no way out;

Without love too this heart would grieve

For want of things to grieve about.

(transl. H.C. Saraswat)

Love is a strange captivity;

The lover, though fettered, cannot rest.

And so it comes about that I

am restless though in chains I be,

as one who walks on fire.

Each link of the chain that binds my feet

Is a fiery ring of shimmering flame.

(transl. J. L. Kaul)

I am but a frail dew-drop

Clinging to a castaway thorn in a desert land.

I tremble when I see the sun

Seeking me out at dawn:

Not that I die, but that the mighty sun

Must take all this trouble to kill such as me.

(transl. J.L. Kaul)

Sing my heart

Even to chords of pain

For one day soon your harp of life

Will never sing again.

(transl. Zaitun Umer)

All that can be seen

Is nothing but a dream:

And even when we think,

Ourselves awake,

We have only wakened

In a dream!

(transl. Hashim Ameer Ali)

A chaos of desires and thoughts,

Man is not as simple as he seems.

Even when alone he is not alone:

With crowds tumultuous his breast teems.

(transl. J. L. Kaul)

From: Whispers of the Angel (Nawa-e Sarosh), Ghalib Academy1969.


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