by Shamsur Rahman Faruqi
*handwritten Urdu text by the author, early 1980's*
She must have sewn everything up together,
She must have washed faces in dream-tears.
The underground stream, its unknown depth--
she must have lost herself long ago.
Night has come,
bearing a new disaster?
Only that same old thorn
pierces you and me.
Sound of water, flowing, all-conquering,
Force of my voice lost in it too.
No matter what,
wave on wave, wetting
the heart of the shore of strangeness
to the lips.
In the black word-forest,
neither road nor direction.
Waiting and weeping
she must have fallen asleep.
[bas ek rishtah hai jis me;N parad ga))ii hogii]
translated by Frances W. Pritchett
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