Kabhii kisii ko mukammal jahaaN nahiin milataa
kahiin zamiin to kahiin aasmaaN nahiin milataa
Jise bhii dekhiye vo apane aap mein gum hai
zubaaN milii hai magar ham_zubaaN nahiin milataa
Bujhaa sakaa hai bhalaa kaun vaqt ke shole
ye aisii aag hai jis mein dhuaaN nahiin milataa
Tere jahaan mein aisaa nahiin ke pyaar na ho
jahaaN ummiid ho is kii vahaaN nahiin milataa.
English translation: Kabhi Kissi Ko Mukammal JahaN Nahiin Milataa
No one ever gets a perfect world
Sometimes the earth is missing and sometimes the sky.
Each one seems to be lost in oneself
One has the tongue but no one to understand the words
Who has been able to douse the flames of time!
This is the kind of fire that emits no smoke
It is not that your world is devoid of love
Just that, it is not found where one hopes it will be.
~Nida Fazli
Translated by Mohammad Ahsaan/ Abha Iyengar, May 25th 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Translation: (2) Nida Fazli ~ 'Dil Mein Na Ho Jurrat'
Without audacity in the heart, you don’t get love,
You don’t get this wealth of love in mere charity.
Many folks in this town are unhappy with me,
I too am not inclined towards every one.
Perhaps it was someone else I noticed, though
Not a soul here that does not resemble you.
The bazaar is all glamour with faces that laugh,
No way it seems one has the leisure to cry!
Take this candlelight while stepping out of the home,
For troubles are not there to grace your solitude.
...[Nida Fazli]
Translated by Mohammad Ahsaan / Abha Iyengar, 18th May 2009
You don’t get this wealth of love in mere charity.
Many folks in this town are unhappy with me,
I too am not inclined towards every one.
Perhaps it was someone else I noticed, though
Not a soul here that does not resemble you.
The bazaar is all glamour with faces that laugh,
No way it seems one has the leisure to cry!
Take this candlelight while stepping out of the home,
For troubles are not there to grace your solitude.
...[Nida Fazli]
Translated by Mohammad Ahsaan / Abha Iyengar, 18th May 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
At Your Grave
[a translation of Nida fazli's Urdu nazm]
I did not come to read
the fateha at your grave.
I knew you cannot die.
He who spread the word of your death
is a liar.
It was never you
but a dry leaf fallen with the wind.
My eyes
are still trapped in your landscapes.
Whatever I see or perceive is
Only the world of your deeds and misdeeds.
Nothing has changed.
Your hands breathe in my fingers,
as I hold my paper and pen to write.
I find you sitting in my chair.
Your failures and trippings run the blood in my body.
Your mind lies hidden within my voice.
In my illnesses there is you.
In my helplessness there is you.
The one who engraved your name on your grave
is a liar.
In your grave there,
I lie dead.
You are alive in me!
You are alive!
Whenever you have some free time,
walk in to read the fateha on my grave.
****
fateha - quranic verses , read at the grave by relatives and friends for the benefit of the dead.
This nazm by Nida Fasli translated into English by Mohammad Ahsaan / Abha Iyengar, 19th April 2009.
I did not come to read
the fateha at your grave.
I knew you cannot die.
He who spread the word of your death
is a liar.
It was never you
but a dry leaf fallen with the wind.
My eyes
are still trapped in your landscapes.
Whatever I see or perceive is
Only the world of your deeds and misdeeds.
Nothing has changed.
Your hands breathe in my fingers,
as I hold my paper and pen to write.
I find you sitting in my chair.
Your failures and trippings run the blood in my body.
Your mind lies hidden within my voice.
In my illnesses there is you.
In my helplessness there is you.
The one who engraved your name on your grave
is a liar.
In your grave there,
I lie dead.
You are alive in me!
You are alive!
Whenever you have some free time,
walk in to read the fateha on my grave.
****
fateha - quranic verses , read at the grave by relatives and friends for the benefit of the dead.
This nazm by Nida Fasli translated into English by Mohammad Ahsaan / Abha Iyengar, 19th April 2009.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
EVERYTHING PLANNED
We had planned everything
Down to the last ‘e’
Or is it ‘t’?
Nothing else was questionable
Or in doubt.
His admission papers
The fees,
Even a new motorbike
Which he so desired
Synonymous with his freedom.
His clothes all packed
He was ready to go
A rider on his steed
Bidding goodbye with a smile
And a shake of his golden locks
Which he grew long
An indulgence of youth.
We were well prepared.
We turned away to stem
The tide waiting
To burst its banks.
I did not wish him to see me cry
Or wipe a tear from my husband’s eye.
Abha Iyengar
(first published in poetsonline)
Down to the last ‘e’
Or is it ‘t’?
Nothing else was questionable
Or in doubt.
His admission papers
The fees,
Even a new motorbike
Which he so desired
Synonymous with his freedom.
His clothes all packed
He was ready to go
A rider on his steed
Bidding goodbye with a smile
And a shake of his golden locks
Which he grew long
An indulgence of youth.
We were well prepared.
We turned away to stem
The tide waiting
To burst its banks.
I did not wish him to see me cry
Or wipe a tear from my husband’s eye.
Abha Iyengar
(first published in poetsonline)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
ON LOVE ( A rondeau)
Come and see how the rivers flow
And down below the voices crow
with delight, on nations might,
admire those that always fight
in the midst of love.
Come and see the skies above
Even as those who push and shove
trample the weak and stand up proud
to proclaim out loud above the crowd
and laugh at the folly of love.
Do not see the blossoms fall
like tears on those they do enthrall
with their beauty, for a moment though
because the world has told them so
there is nothing called love.
Abha Iyengar (first published march 2003)
And down below the voices crow
with delight, on nations might,
admire those that always fight
in the midst of love.
Come and see the skies above
Even as those who push and shove
trample the weak and stand up proud
to proclaim out loud above the crowd
and laugh at the folly of love.
Do not see the blossoms fall
like tears on those they do enthrall
with their beauty, for a moment though
because the world has told them so
there is nothing called love.
Abha Iyengar (first published march 2003)
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