There are no more bends, no wildernesses, no ambush
That I may be deceived into sinking my moon as they roll by
Better let this path be peopled by your tread as before
No matter
if you didn’t even turn to look
POEMS SELECTED FROM
Dast-e Tah-e Sang
28
Hand Trapped under a Block of Stone
The surrounding air is out of humour, the morning breeze hell bent on causing hurt—
The fact of the matter:
each and every old comrade is annoyed
Hey, dear fellow drinkers, now the season is in full colour!
Now the manner of the environment is worth a trip outside!
From all sides, accusations shower down like the season of rains
Contumely’s cloud swells in every direction
There’s something poured in it
The flask of wine seems to smoulder
Every glass of wine is more than deadly poison
Hey, raise the glass, for in remembrance of honey lips
Friends have drunk this poison time and time again!
There’s no retribution, nor reward
for the passion of the heart—
The objective of travelling down the path of love
is not requital of love nor the beloved’s tyranny
To know the pain of the heart: that’s the recompense
for the sorrow of love
And that is the consciousness of beauty
it’s your bounty to us
Every morning that dawns over the garden is your spring-like face
Every flower is a footprint of your memory
Every drenched, descending night is
the dewdrop which is your braid of hair
The westering sun is the air around your lips
Every road ends at the door of your love
Every word of desire is the sound of your footsteps
Not a penalty imposed by the politician
nor the fault of comrades—
Cruelties perpetrated by me
upon my wild, passionate heart
I am enchained in a prison:
the path that leads to the beloved
There are no other handcuffs on me nor any fetters on my legs
A declaration of love is an act of duress, really
The promise of fidelity in love:
a hand trapped under a block of stone
Note: The lines in italics are a well-known sher by Ghalib.
29
Ghazal
How Can Friends and Comrades Gather in Celebration?
How can friends and comrades gather in celebration?
All the bottles and glasses of wine are
extinguished
How can the night of the loved ones be put together?
It’s early evening and yet the hearts are
extinguished
The street of the idol-beloveds is so utterly dark
no lamp of a face, no candle of a promise
Fetch at least a faint ray of yearning
because all doors and balconies are
extinguished
I took much care to protect the promise of love, but
there have been such torrential rains this time
Every vow is erased, all messages are
extinguished
Moon of the night of sorrow, approach near
the eyes can’t discern at this time at all
Whose impressions remain on the heart, whose names are
extinguished
What use is the spring’s advent now? The life and soul of
the celebration of colour and song—the roses
incinerated on the bough, the entrapped hearts—are
extinguished
30
Ghazal
The Sick Are Almost Lifeless Now
The sick are almost lifeless now
Why don’t you heal their malady?
What kind of a messiah are you?
Why don’t you provide a cure?
Why don’t you give recompense
for the pain of the night of disunion?
You shed the crazed heart’s blood
Why don’t you give requital?
Will you deliver justice after humanity has perished?
Why don’t you now declare doomsday?
Come, you wise and subtle people
Bring lips and hearts to witness
And, O melody makers
Why are your instruments silent?
For how long will the vow of madness mortify your hands?
You, if you are true of heart
Why don’t you guide them to your collars?
To have your heart laid waste is not
an obligation to discharge, O Faiz
If she is your life’s torment
Why don’t you forget her?
31
Life
Queen of the City of Life
how could I ever thank you?
The heart’s wealth is immeasurable
why complain of being in want?
Those who forsook the world for your beauty
why should they worry about livelihood?
Marketing pain, singing melodies
what better occupation could there be?
The wine overflowed the glass
our assembly is set
who has the need to seek others’ favours
to share our pain?
It takes just a teardrop for a garden to bloom
who bothers to grieve
for the tight-fistedness of the spring?
I sit happy: the desire of the eye and of the heart
is not to be found in mosque or temple
Where should I go try my luck?
all the beauty idols are seated secure in their pavilions
Who is there rich enough
with whom one could bargain
about the gold of the sun and the moon?
Let him who’s keen to do battle with us
Go subdue the universe first
Note: The line in italics is by Ghalib; Faiz has used it here in a slightly ironical way.
32
Ghazal
The Sorrow of Your Love Needed Lives
The sorrow of your love needed lives
those who loved you more than life itself, they
offered themselves
There was a demand for heads in your street, so they
came out on the street
The night of waiting departed, defeated
repulsed by your perverse, unfriendly ways
Annoyed with the way I locked my state in my heart
they went away, those who would share my grief
Petitioning to meet, giving words to pain
making casual converse, protesting against hardship
My unhappy heart lost all its rights in your time
It was none other, it was us on whose dress
blackness was written openly in the streets
Those were the stains with which we adorned our bodies
before we went into the beloved’s assembly
Madness for fidelity’s face is no more
What will you now do with the hanging rope and the gallows?
The sinners who were proud of the crime of love are no more
33
The Rain of Stones Has Stopped
Quite unexpectedly today the sun and the moon
were disconnected from my line of sight
And smashed to bits on the horizon
There won’t be any darkness or light in any direction now
Love’s road is silent like the heart after I’m gone
What will happen now to the caravan of pain, my friends?
Let someone else now tend to the garden
of struggle and pain
Friends, the wet eye’s dew is exhausted
The storm of passion is abated, the rain of stones has ceased
Again, the dust of the road has a tinge of the beloved’s lips
My blood, like a flag, unfurls itself again
on the path to the beloved
Let’s see who now is called upon when I’m no more
Is there any other who can take the man-destroying wine of love?
The saaqi calls again and again, after I am gone
Note: The lines in italics are by Ghalib, inserted in the original Urdu by Faiz to conclude his poem.
34
The Colours of My Heart
Before you had come, everything was just what it is now
The sky endless, the road a road
the wine glass a wine glass
And now: wine glass, road, the sky’s hue
Have all become the colour of my heart
until the liver’s crushed into blood
The colour of the champak flower
and occasionally the hue of the joy of seeing you
Occasionally the steel grey that’s the shade
of tedium
The colour of yellowed leaves, of brambles and twigs
Crimson red flowers, the colour of a flaming garden
The colour of poison, of blood and of the black night
Sky, road, wine glass
The soaked hem of a garment, a throbbing nerve
A looking glass constantly changing
Now that you have come, stay
so that some colour, some season, some entity
Should stay in place
One more time everything become just what it really is
The sky endless, the road a road
the wine glass a wine glass
Note: The phrase in italics is by Ghalib.
35
Stay Close, Close to Me
Stay close, close to me
My slayer, keeper of my heart, stay close to me
When the night’s hour flows
The dark night, drunk on the blood of the heavens
Bearing the unguent of musk and a diamond lancet
Wailing loudly, laughing and singing it goes
Clinking her purplish anklets of pain
The hour when hearts which have sunk deep into bosoms
Begin their wait for the hands that lie hidden within the sleeves
Hands, full of hope
When the sound of gurgling wine
begins to sound like sobbing and wailing children
Not to be placated any way at all
When nothing seems to work at all
When no conversation can begin
The hour of the night flowing
The hour of the mournful, deserted, black night begins to flow
Stay close
My slayer, keeper of my heart, stay close to me
Note: The lines in italics have been taken from a verse by Ghalib.
36
View (2)
Road, shadows, trees, houses and doors, edges of the sky dome
Upon the terrace, the moon bared her breast, gently
As someone loosens the strings of her dress, slowly
Under the edge of the sky dome, the still blue Nile of shadows
Forming an indigo lake
In the lake floated ever so quietly the bubble of a leaf
Floated a moment, moved away, burst, softly
Very softly, the cool colour of wine, very light
Poured into my glass, slowly
The wine glass and the wine, the wine jar, the roses of your hands
Like the pattern of a distant dream
Formed on its own and faded, gradually
My heart repeated some word of love, softly
You said, ‘Softly.’
The moon bent down and said
‘Yet more softly.’
POEMS SELECTED FROM
Sar-e Waadi-e Seena
37
Observe the City from Here
Observe the city, from here
Circle within circles, the city walls stretch
Like a prison in all directions
On every street
The prisoners walk and circulate
No milestone, no destination, no way to be set free
Should someone walk a little briskly, the question
Arises in the head
Why no challenge: Halt! Who goes there?
Should someone move a hand
Fearful, imagining inquires: Why no clink of a sword?
Why no crash of arms?
Observe the city from here, there’s none
In the whole teeming populace who
Can boast of gravitas, of self-possession
None who’s self-aware, who has a sense of being
Young men condemned as criminals, necks bound
With ropes; every beautiful girl a serving maid
Her ears pierced by the circlet, symbol of slavery
There are some shadows shivering around some
Lights far away, but who knows
Is it an assembly of sorrow there, or
A party of tipplers, of merrymakers?
Colours, smeared over all the doors and walls
There’s no way to determine from here:
Blood or flowers?
38
Ghazal
Life of the Whole World
Life of the whole world, what word did they speak that
made you flare the corner of your lips?
Look, the brave hearts have this time declared
their madness in a thousand new ways!
A thousand arrowheads piercing our throats, and that
was the time when we struck the tune of love
A thousand arrows smashing our hearts through
and that was the time when we began our dance
No avarice, no base desire, no fear, no wild imaginings of danger
the head in one hand, the liver in the other
That’s how, at the time of departure from the beloved’s street, we
cast our eye on the proud and coquettish balcony
The earth in which we were pounded to dust became
the kohl for all the world’s eyes
The thorn on which we sprinkled our blood, we
dyed so as to match the colour of the haughty red rose
Listen! Do you hear? The moment of union is now!
Once again at the command, ‘Attend!’
We shut the casements that are the eyes and open wide
the portal of the breast
39
Wall of Night
Wall of night and the reflection of the beloved’s face before me
Blood begins again to drip from the mirror of the heart
My way of repressing myself, not letting go
dims my sight yet again
My body aches all over again, crushed
by trampled desire
40
Compacts Made with Desire and Longing
Compacts made with desire and longing
never reached a conclusion
Brief days and nights of loving and living
never stretched into months and years
The power of seeing which would encompass your full beauty
could never be acquired
Means there were of looking at you but were never enough to ascertain how you looked
What everyone took to be a mirage was in fact the river of life
Only those dreams were reliable that could never be imagined
Your gracious favours give no solace nor my dilating upon my sorrows brings relief
Buried in my heart are complaints that couldn’t graduate to grief
A friend passed the station of life
while another didn’t even pass the stage of the senses
Drinking companions for a glass or two never
could descry my true state
Come, Faiz, let’s kindle our hearts and resubmit to the belov
ed
The words that came to the lips but didn’t rise up to the level of query
41
Prayer
Come, let us also raise our hands to pray
We who have forgotten the protocols of prayer
We who don’t remember anything
No God, no idol, nothing except the burning pain of love
Come, let us pray
that the beloved called Life may pour
tomorrow’s sweetness in the poison of today
Lighten the burden of the days and nights
on the eyelashes of those
who don’t have the strength any more to bear it
Brighten with a candle, any candle
The nights of those whose eyes have lost the power
to sustain the glance of morning’s bright face
Bring to light a path, any path
Before the eyes of those whose feet haven’t the support
of any kind of road
For those whose dogma has been to walk the path
of untruth, of hypocrisy: let them be vouchsafed
the strength of denial and intrepid search for the truth
Let those whose heads await the executioner’s sword
be granted the puissant grace to wrench and spurn
the murderer’s hand
The buried secret of love, which is like a fever in the spirit
Let’s confess to it today and obliterate the burning pain.
The True Word, which throbs in the heart like a thorn