Ghazal
लरज़ता है मिरा दिल ज़हमत-ए-मेहर-ए-दरख़्शाँ पर
This ghazal evokes a deep sense of vulnerability and profound sorrow, comparing the poet's heart to a trembling dewdrop easily affected by the world's harshness. It delves into the enduring pain of separation, referencing Yaqub's grief for Yusuf, and expresses a timeless, all-consuming love akin to Majnun's, leading to self-effacement. Ultimately, it suggests a profound acceptance of suffering, where even a fragmented heart finds a strange peace in its pain.
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1
लरज़ता है मिरा दिल ज़हमत-ए-मेहर-ए-दरख़्शाँ पर
मैं हूँ वो क़तरा-ए-शबनम कि हो ख़ार-ए-बयाबाँ पर
My heart trembles at the toil of the radiant sun,
I am that drop of dew that rests upon a desert thorn.
My heart trembles at the intense effort of the shining sun. I am like that dewdrop which rests precariously on a desert thorn.
2
न छोड़ी हज़रत-ए-यूसुफ़ ने याँ भी ख़ाना-आराई
सफ़ेदी दीदा-ए-याक़ूब की फिरती है ज़िंदाँ पर
Prophet Yusuf, even here, did not abandon his charming sway,The whiteness of Yaqub's eyes roams over the prison, night and day.
Prophet Yusuf maintained his captivating presence even in prison. The whiteness (due to intense grief) from Prophet Yaqub's eyes hovers over the prison, as if searching for him.
3
फ़ना तालीम-ए-दर्स-ए-बे-ख़ुदी हूँ उस ज़माने से
कि मजनूँ लाम अलिफ़ लिखता था दीवार-ए-दबिस्ताँ पर
I am the instruction of self-oblivion, from an age so profound, When Majnun etched 'laam-alif' on the school's wall, lost to all around.
The speaker declares being the embodiment of self-oblivion, dating back to an era so ancient that Majnun was merely a child learning to scratch 'laam-alif' on a school wall. This highlights an exceptionally profound and timeless state of being lost in love or spiritual absorption.
4
फ़राग़त किस क़दर रहती मुझे तश्वीश-ए-मरहम से
बहम गर सुल्ह करते पारा-हा-ए-दिल नमक-दाँ पर
How great the ease I'd find from balm's anxious thought, if my heart's fragments made peace with the salt-shaker's lot.
How great would be my freedom from the worry of needing balm, if the fragments of my heart would make peace with the salt-shaker.
5
नहीं इक़लीम-ए-उल्फ़त में कोई तूमार-ए-नाज़ ऐसा
कि पुश्त-ए-चश्म से जिस की न होवे मोहर उनवाँ पर
There is no scroll of allure in love's domain, whose title isn't sealed by a look of disdain.
In the domain of love, there is no scroll of allure or pride whose title isn't ultimately sealed by a look of disdain or indifference.
6
मुझे अब देख कर अबर-ए-शफ़क़-आलूदा याद आया
कि फ़ुर्क़त में तिरी आतिश बरसती थी गुलिस्ताँ पर
Now, seeing the twilight-tinged cloud, I recall,
That in your absence, fire rained upon the garden, over all.
Now, seeing the cloud tinged with twilight's glow, I remembered that in your separation, fire rained upon the garden.
7
ब-जुज़ परवाज़-ए-शौक़-ए-नाज़ क्या बाक़ी रहा होगा
क़यामत इक हवा-ए-तुंद है ख़ाक-ए-शहीदाँ पर
What else could have remained, save the soaring flight of proud longing?Doomsday is but a fierce wind upon the dust of martyrs.
What else could have remained, save the soaring flight of proud longing? Doomsday is merely a fierce wind upon the dust of martyrs.
8
न लड़ नासेह से 'ग़ालिब' क्या हुआ गर उस ने शिद्दत की
हमारा भी तो आख़िर ज़ोर चलता है गरेबाँ पर
Ghalib, don't quarrel with the preacher, what if he was harsh? After all, our own hand too has power over our collar.
Ghalib, don't quarrel with the preacher; what if he was harsh? After all, our hand too has power over our own collar (meaning we can tear it ourselves in anguish).
9
दिल-ए-ख़ूनीं-जिगर बे-सब्र-ओ-फ़ैज़-ए-इश्क़-ए-मुस्तग़नी
इलाही यक क़यामत ख़ावर आ टूटे बदख़्शाँ पर
My heart, blood-livered, impatient, from love's grace has grown quite free,O God, may a Doomsday from the East now strike Badakhshan's ruby-glee!
My blood-livered heart is impatient and has grown independent of love's grace. O God, may a Doomsday from the East befall Badakhshan.
10
'असद' ऐ बे-तहम्मुल अरबदा बे-जा है नासेह से
कि आख़िर बे-कसों का ज़ोर चलता है गरेबाँ पर
Asad, O restless soul, it's wrong to quarrel with the guide, For in the end, the helpless tear their own collar in their plight.
Asad, O impatient one, it is inappropriate to quarrel with the advisor, because ultimately, the helpless can only express their despair by tearing their own collars.
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