Rain - Gulzar
Sitting up until late,
The two of them kept
Watching the rain fall.
She kept pointing to me The droplets sliding along The electric wires, which Fell as soon as two of them merged into one.
All the while I was afraid that Perhaps electricity might pass Through one of those naked wires And set off a fire
She made many paper boats and let them Lose in the gutter, saying they will meet Again somewhere on the wide whale routes.
All the while I was afraid that a unseen whirlpool Would leap and gulp down those pieces of paper.
Filling her skirt with falling water She taunted the half filled puddles. She was very little, very innocent. When she stepped into the water, It too began to laugh and giggle.
And all the while I With my cargo of age and knowing Floated on and on Along her side, in all that rain.
Translated from Hindustani This one is for Kutti, a fellow Gulzar lover
Translations
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And Tonight The Moon - Gulzar
And again in the fragrant night I will have to burn.
And again from the face of moon lifts the fog.
And again deep in the chest few suppressed sighs
Will fall and shatter all over the floor.
Where did you hide the night?
Where did you hide the cool shadows
of your rosy hands?
Where are the many faces and masks
of your lips?
Where are you tonight, tonight where are you? Whose sadness is this, sleeping in my bed?
Translated from the Hindustani
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from Heer - Waris Shah
Ever new, ever fresh is the Spring of Love!
Ever new, ever fresh is the Spring of Love!
When I learnt the lesson of love, My heart dreaded the sight of the mosque. I went into the temple, Where a thousand horns were blowing.
When I grasped the hint of love, I beat and drove out all senses of "I" and " You”, Both my heart and vision became clear. Now in whatsoever direction I look, I see only the lord.
I am tired of reading Vedas and Qur'ans; My forehead is worn by constant prostrations in the mosque. But the lord is neither at Hindu shrines nor at Mecca, Whoever found him, found him in the light of his own beauty.
Burn the prayer mat, break the bucket, And do not touch the beads or the staff. The lovers are proclaiming at the top of their voices, "Give up the lawful and eat carrion."
I have lived all my life in a mosque, But my heart is still full of dirt. I had never vowed for the prayer of unity of God Now why do I rave and cry.
Love has made me forget to prostrate myself before you, Now why do you quarrel with me in vain? Waris is doing his best to keep silent about it, But love says "Kill‑‑destroy all show and formality."
Inspite of not knowing Punjabi, Abida's rendition of Waris Shah's Heer is proving to be soothing to my sleepless sickness. I suppose this is the effect of Waris Shah's great masterpiece on someone as screwed up as me, as it attacks from all the directions leaping beyond the mere syntax of language or comprehension.
Big Book Of Poetry
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