===
0007,
trans.
===

 

Notes:

SRF's translation comes, with his permission, from Mir Taqi Mir: Selected Ghazals and Other Poems, translated by Shamsur Rahman Faruqi. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2019. Murty Classical Library of India; Sheldon Pollock, General Editor. Ghazal 32, pp. 89-93.

S. R. Faruqi:

(1) All advice had a contrary effect, no medicine worked at all.
Do you see how the sickness in the heart finally finished off everything?

(2) I wept away the days of my youth and shut my eyes to the world when old age came:
I slept little during the night and retired to rest at daybreak.

(3) There's no question she does breathe life into the dead or pardon the condemned. It was just my bad luck.
She sent word of her coming, for that became the message for me to die.

(4) It's not fair that we who act without freedom of choice are blamed for having free will.
He does what he wants or wills, while we incur infamy for no reason at all.

[Mir makes a rather petulant statement about free will and predestination, but he escapes censure by pretending that he is talking about the human beloved.]

(5) All libertines, all profligates, all the roué types always prostrate themselves before you.
In my eyes you are also the prayer leader and chief in all things, of the rakish, the hard to please, the stiff-necked, the sharp-tongued.

(6) I committed no act of disrespect even when I was wild and deranged.
Miles and miles I walked toward her--and yet I bowed down at each and every step.

(7) The Kaaba, the direction for prayer, the forbidden zone around the Kaaba, the hajj garment? They could care less:
the dwellers of her lane said goodbye to all that, right from where they stood.

(8) The shaikh appeared in the mosque today without his tunic and coat because he was in the winehouse last night.
In a frenzy of drunkenness, he let go of himself, gave away his topcoat, his cloak, his tunic, his hat.

(9) How I wish that she'd raise the veil from her face now: it will mean nothing to me
if she allows all to gaze after my power to gaze is gone.

(10) Yes, man has executive power day and night, but my competency in it goes only so far
as to drag the night to morning with eyes that weep, or turn day into night by some means or other.

(11) This morning the breezes persuaded her somehow to visit the garden.
With her face she bought the rose for a servant, and by her stature she made the cypress her slave.

(12) I caught her by her silver wrists, but let her go.
How stupid I was to be cheated like this by her promises and vows.

(13) Imploring her all the time, as I have, has made everything worse.
She shows indifference to all my importunities by a factor of four.

(14) A gazelle, always shying away and taking flight--how was she made to lose her skittish and wild ways?
Those who tamed you must have performed sorcery, or else a miracle.

(15) Mir's religion, his faith? Well, don't ask any more about those things.
Drawing a Brahman's mark on his forehead and settling in a Hindu temple, he forsook Islam a long, long time ago.

["Islam" here represents hypocrisy and surface homage to the Truth. Marking one's forehead with the sign of a Brahman and taking a seat in the Hindu temple denotes rejection of the conventional, hypocritical observance of religion.]

 

FWP:

(inspired by SRF's translation)

(1) All prescriptions went into reverse; no medicine did any work--
See? This heart-sickness finally did me in!

(2) My youth I spent weeping; in old age I closed my eyes.
That is, at night I was all too wakeful; when dawn came, I rested.

(3) There's no doubt of her life-bestowingness. It's the excellence of my fortune--
The first message she sent me turned out to be a death sentence.

(4) We oppressed ones are unjustly accused of self-will!
She does whatever she pleases-- she defames us for no reason.

(5) All the rakish profligates of the world prostrate themselves before you.
The crooked, the bent, the perverse, the sharp ones-- you've been made the imam of them all.

(6) If I was discourteous, then even in madness it wasn't very much.
I went miles in her direction, but with a prostration at every step.

(7) Whose Ka'bah? What kind of prayer-niche? Which sacred place is it, what pilgrimage-robe?
The dwellers in her street paid their respects to everyone-- from right here.

(8) The Shaikh who is naked in the mosque, last night was in the wine-house.
Cloak, robe, kurta, cap-- intoxicated, he gave them all away.

(9) If only she'd lift the veil, now, from her face! Otherwise what's the good,
Once my eyes have closed, if she'd let the whole world look?

(10) In the realm of black-and-whiteness, here, the power we have is this much:
We wept the night into morning, or somehow turned day into evening.

(11) This morning, somehow the breeze moved her to stroll in the garden.
With her face she mastered the rose; with her stature she enslaved the cypress.

(12) Having grasped both her silver-wrought wrists, I released them.
I was fooled by her vows and promises-- alas, my mind had melted down!

(13) All my efforts have been wasted, all my constant entreaties--
The more I importuned her, she grew four times more aloof.

(14) To cause such a skittish, shying deer to lose its wildness was difficult!
They did magic, they did a miracle, the people who tamed you.

(15) Why do you ask, now, about Mir's religion? After all, he
Put on a forehead-mark, sat down in a temple-- it was ages ago that he renounced Islam!

 

Zahra Sabri:

Zahra Sabri is a special guest translator for this site.

(1) All schemes went awry – cures and remedies didn’t help a bit
See? This affliction of the heart, in the end, proved fatal

(2) We passed the years of youth in weeping; in old age, we shut our eyes
Meaning, we had spent a very sleepless night; when morning came, we rested

(3) There’s no doubting her life-grantingness; it’s the beauty of my luck
The message she sent ahead proved to be a message for me to die

(4) Unjustly, we who are constrained to act are falsely accused of having power of will
He does exactly as He likes, and defames us for no reason

(5) All the rogues and debauchees of the world remain prostrated in devotion before you
The dandies, the deviant, the perverse, the piquant – I deemed you head of them all

[Who is it that made the addressee the head/chief is not made explicit here. It could be a number of things (e.g. ‘they/I/He’). I’ve chosen ‘I’ because it’s the most striking for me.]

(6) Even in the grip of madness, we were seldom guilty of disrespect
We travelled towards her for miles and miles, but performed a prostration at every step

(7) Whose holy house do you speak of? What sort of prayer-direction? What sacred sanctuary? And what is the pilgrim’s stipulated garment?
Those who live in her street simply can’t be bothered – they paid their respects to them all from right here

(8) The religious scholar who is now naked in the mosque was in the tavern last night
His outer robe, his patched dress, his shirt, his headdress – in intoxicated rapture, he handed these all away

(9) If only she would lift the veil from her face now; otherwise, what would I stand to gain
If, when my eyes shut, she lets all and sundry see her

(10) All the sway we hold over matters here is this:
Through constant weeping, we make night pass into morning; or, somehow or other, make day pass into evening

(11) This morning, a desire for fresh air had brought her into the garden somehow
With her face, she bought the devotion of the rose; with her tall grace, she made the cypress her slave

(12) Having captured both her delicate, silvery wrists, I let go of them
I erred in believing her solemn oath – oh, what a foolish mistake!

(13) With every moment I’ve spent entreating her, my efforts have all become progressively wasted
The more desperately I pleaded with her, she was four times more heedless towards me

(14) It was difficult for such a skittish deer to lose its timid and wild ways
Those who managed to tame you performed sorcery, wrought a miracle

(15) What do you mean by asking about Mir’s faith and beliefs, now? He
Drew a devotional mark on his forehead, went and took up residence in a temple, and left Islam absolute ages ago

 

Tahira Naqvi:

Tahira Naqvi is a guest translator for this site.

(1) All remedies came to naught, the medicine proved ineffective
Did you see, in the end this sickness of the heart did me in

(2) The period of youth was spent weeping, in old age we shut our eyes
That is, we spent many nights staying awake, and rested when it was morning

(3) There is no fault in her letting us live, it is our own good fortune
The first message she sent us was the message of death

(4) We helpless ones have been accused unjustly of having freedom
They are the ones who do what they want and wrongly given us a bad name

(5) The drunk debauchees of the world all bow down before you all the time
They have made you the imam of all the foppish, crooked, perverse, jaunty ones

(6) Even in a state of passion we have not shown any disrespect
We went for miles in her direction but offered prostrations at every step

(7) Whose kaa’ba, what qibla, what is sacred, what the Hajj garment?
This is the place here from which the inhabitants of her street offered salutations

(8) The shaikh, who is naked in the mosque, was in the wine-house last night
The cloak, the religious habit, kurta, cap -- he gave all away as rewards in a state of intoxication

(9) If only she would lift the veil from her face, otherwise what is the use
If she lets everyone gaze at her after I shut my eyes in death

(10) In this realm of all that is, the only thing we can interfere with is
Weeping all night until day breaks or somehow going through the day until evening falls

(11) By chance the need for air had brought her out in the garden
With her face she conquered the rose and enslaved the cypress with her height

(12) Held both her silvery wrists in my hand and then let them go
Misinterpreted her vows and promises, alas, was misled by my thoughts

(13) All tasks have become worthless because of the baseness of each moment
She expressed contempt four times over with every entreaty I made

(14) It was difficult to get rid of the restlessness of the gazelle in flight
Those who tamed you must have used magic, or performed a miracle

(15) Why do you now ask about Mir’s religion and faith, for he
Made the sandal-mark on his forehead, settled in the temple, and gave up Islam ages ago