Thursday, April 26, 2018

Ishrat-e-qatraa hai (Ghalib, translated by Mustansir Dalvi)


Ishrat-e-qatraa hai
a ghazal by
Mirza Ghalib


Ishrat-e-qatraa hai dariyaa mein fanaa ho jaana
Dard ka hadd se guzarnaa hai dawaa ho jaana


Tujhse qismat mein meri surat-e-qufl-e-abjad
Tha likhaa baat ke bante hi judaa ho jaana


Dil hua kashmakash-e-chaara-e-zehmat mein tamaam
Mit gaya ghisne mein is uqde ka vaa ho jaana


Ab jafaa se bhi hai marhoom hum, Allah Allah
Is qadar dushman-e-arbaab-e-wafaa ho jaana


Zo’af se giriyaa mubaddal ba-dam-e-sard hua
Bavar aaya hamein paani ka hawaa ho jaana


Dil se mitna teri angusht-e-hinaai ka khayaal
Ho gaya gosht se naakhun ka judaa ho jaana


Hai mujhe abr-e-bahaari ka baras kar khulna
Rote rote gham-e-furqat mein fanaa ho jaana


Gar nahin nikhat-e-gul ko tere kuche ki hawas
Kyun hai gard-e-raah-e-jaulaan-e-sabaa ho jaana


Bakshe hai jalwa-e-gul zouq-e-tamaashaa Ghaalib
Chasm ko chaahiye har rang mein vaa ho jaana


Taa ki tujh par khule aijaaz-e-hawaa-e-saiqal
Dekh barsaat mein sabz aaine ka ho jaana






Here is Ghalib's ghazal rendered by M S Subbulakshmi





The droplet’s desire
translated by
Mustansir Dalvi



the droplet desires but
to be subsumed in the river
when pain breaches all limits
it becomes its own cure

we were fated to be hasped
like a many-levered lock
it was decreed things would fall apart
the moment they came together

the heart was annihilated
in the struggle to resolve its woes
the rope was frayed
in the efforts to unravel the knot

O Allah, must we now be deprived
even from oppression?
how severe is this hostility
even to a constant friend?

my weakness replaced my grief
changed it into icy breath
only then did I realize
how water turns into air

the thought that your hennaed touch
will no longer soothe my aching breast
is like the agony of ripping the nails
from the flesh of my fingers

after a spring downpour
the sky clears
in the gloom of separation
I drown in my tears

if the fragrance of the blossom has no desire
to waft to the street where you live
why then does it swirl like dust
in the alleys downwind?

Ghalib, you have been granted the spectacle
of the passion of flowers in bloom
your eyes are required to plunge
into colors of every hue

so that the wonder of the bracing wind
will unfold upon you
see how the mirror turns green
in the season of rain




Translation and Transliteration © Mustansir Dalvi, 2018, All rights reserved.

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