Ghazal
सुना है हाल तिरे कुश्तगाँ बेचारों का
This ghazal is a poignant and deeply socio-political commentary, lamenting the plight of the marginalized and suffering sections of society. The poet, 'Alam,' vividly portrays the painful reality of human existence and the pain of social injustice, set against a backdrop of separation, struggle, and life's inherent instability.
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1
सुना है हाल तिरे कुश्तगाँ बेचारों का
हुआ न गोर गढ़ा उन सितम के मारों का
I hear the state of your helpless kin,
They did not survive the blows of your cruel hand.
The Shayar says that he has heard the state of your helpless kin, who could not survive the blows of your cruelty.
2
हज़ार रंग खिले गुल चमन के हैं शाहिद
कि रोज़गार के सर ख़ून है हज़ारों का
The garden's blossoms display a thousand colors, my friend,
But the head of employment bears the blood of thousands.
The poet says that the garden has bloomed with a thousand colors, my friend, but the head of employment carries the blood of thousands.
3
मिला है ख़ाक में किस किस तरह का 'आलम याँ
निकल के शहर से टक सैर कर मज़ारों का
In what manner of 'world' has it been mixed with dust, O beloved,
After wandering through the city and the graves?
O beloved, what kind of 'world' has been mixed with dust after wandering through the city and the graves?
4
'अरक़-फ़िशानी से उस ज़ुल्फ़ की हिरासाँ हूँ
भला नहीं है बहुत टूटना भी तारों का
I am the guardian of those tresses, from the splendor of the liquor; alas, it is not right for the stars to break too much.
I am the guardian of those tresses, protected by the intoxication; alas, it is not right for the stars to break too much.
5
'इलाज करते हैं सौदा-ए-इश्क़ का मेरे
ख़लल-पज़ीर हुआ है दिमाग़ यारों का
The cure for the trade of love, my friends, has rendered my mind defective.
My friends, the cure for the trade of love has rendered my mind defective.
6
तिरी ही ज़ुल्फ़ को महशर में हम दिखा देंगे
जो कोई माँगेगा नामा सियाहकारों का
We shall show your tresses in the Day of Judgment,
Whoever asks for the name of the black-haired ones.
We shall show your tresses on the Day of Judgment, whoever asks for the name of the black-haired ones.
7
ख़राश-ए-सीना-ए-आशिक़ भी दिल को लग जाए
'अजब तरह का है फ़िरक़ा ये दिल-फ़िगारों का
Even the scratch of the lover's chest can wound the heart; / This separation of the heart-owners is a strange thing.
Even the scratch of the lover's chest can wound the heart; this separation of the heart-owners is a strange thing.
8
निगाह-ए-मस्त के मारे तिरी ख़राब हैं शोख़
न ठोर है न ठिकाना है होशियारों का
By the glance of the intoxicated, my beloved, your beauty is intoxicating; / Neither a dwelling nor a place of rest is for the clever.
By the intoxicating glance, my beloved, your beauty is captivating; neither is there a resting place nor a permanent abode for the clever.
9
करें हैं दा'वा ख़ुश-चश्मी-ए-आहुवान-ए-दश्त
टक एक देखने चल मलक उन गँवारों का
You claim to be the beautiful eyes of the battlefield, / Come and see those rugged hills, O prince.
The poet says you are the beautiful eyes of the battlefield, but I am asking you to come and see those rugged hills, O prince.
10
तड़प के मरने से दिल के कि मग़्फ़िरत हो उसे
जहाँ में कुछ तो रहा नाम बे-क़रारों का
To die from longing, let it be a forgiveness for the heart,
Where there remains something of the name, restless and unassured.
Let dying from longing be a forgiveness for the heart, for in this world, the name of the restless and uncertain still remains.
11
तड़प के ख़िर्मन-ए-गुल पर कभी गिर ऐ बिजली
जलाना क्या है मिरे आशियाँ के ख़ारों का
Oh lightning, why did you ever fall upon the cup of my suffering? What is it that you burn within the thorns of my heart?
Oh lightning, why did you ever fall upon the cup of my suffering? What is it that you burn within the thorns of my heart?
12
तुम्हें तो ज़ोहद-ओ-वरा पर बहुत है अपने ग़ुरूर
ख़ुदा है शैख़-जी हम भी गुनाहगारों का
You are full of pride concerning Zuhd and piety,
God knows, Sheikh-ji, we too are sinners.
You are very proud of your asceticism and piety. God knows, Sheikh-ji, we are also sinners.
13
उठे है गर्द की जा नाला गोर से इस की
ग़ुबार-ए-'मीर' भी 'आशिक़ है ने सवारों का
The dust of the ditch has arisen, O Mine, from the mountains; even the dust of 'Meer' is 'Aashiq' (lover) of the riders.
The dust of the ditch has arisen, O Mine, from the mountains; even the dust of 'Meer' is a lover of the riders.
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