S. R. Faruqi:

(1) The rose would turn to water with shame and stream away from the garden
If by any chance your face were to reveal itself from behind the veil.

(2) Was such sparkling color ever seen in the rose petal? Did the coral ever have such style?
Just look how those lips glisten like the purest of rubies.

(3) Like the philosopher's stone the substance and capital of my life are nowhere to be found,
and desire's intense profusion makes me as restless as quicksilver.

(4) So powerful was the experience, my heart just couldn't absorb and remember it all, dear friend.
Now the pleasure of the day of union is vague in my heart like a forgotten dream.

(5) The shock and fear of death crushed my powers of intellect, my breath, my senses.
It was as if a flood assailed my house and swept all the household effects away.

(6) Fractious and rebellious, for years I avoided even the paths that led to a mosque,
and now my life is spent in perpetual prostration because my body is bent like an arch.

(7) It was in the beginning of love that something like a wave would occasionally rise in my eyes.
Now if you bother to look at my eyes what you'll see is whirlpools.

(8) I was drunk and lost my way and went into a mosque yesterday.
The poor preacher there was terrified and quit the mosque a hundred times--with the runs, as if from a powerful purgative.

(9) Please, place your hand on Mir's chest, ask him how it is going with him.
The young fellow is often these days upset and restless and feeble.

 

FWP:

(inspired by SRF's translation)

(1) The rose in the garden would melt with shame and flow away like water,
If your moon-like face would somehow emerge from the veil.

(2) Does the rose petal have such a color? Does coral have such style?
Look-- those lips gleam like flawless rubies!

(3) That alchemical essence of life, like an elixir, is nowhere to be found.
Like quicksilver, I am restless with the flow of ardor.

(4) My heart wasn't at all strong enough to remember it, dear friend.
Now the rapture of the day of union is like a forgotten dream.

(5) In the howling wilderness of life there was no awareness, no sensation, no breath.
Something like a flood came, and carried it all away.

(6) For a long time I, high-headed, went nowhere near a mosque.
Now I'm constantly bowing down-- since my back is bent like a prayer-niche.

(7) It was at the start of passion, when something like a wave would arise.
Now look at my wet eyes-- they're something like whirlpools!

(8) When yesterday I drunkenly wandered into a mosque, there arose
the Preacher-- from fear, he had a hundred attacks of the runs.

(9) 'Put out a hand and feel Mir's heartbeat, and just see how he is.
Nowadays this young man is chronically agitated.'

 

Zahra Sabri:

Zahra Sabri is a special guest translator for this site.

(1) The rose in the garden would drown in a flood of shame
If your moon-like face peeks out from behind its veil

(2) Has the rose-petal such colour? Has coral such an appearance?
Look how it gleams – that ruby-like lip

(3) That essence of life, like alchemy, is nowhere to be found
From an excess of ardour, I am restless like quicksilver

(4) My heart was too overcome, dear friend, for me to retain any memory
Now the rapture of the day of union exists in my mind like a forgotten dream

(5) In the tumult of fear, my senses had fled, there was no breath in me
It took all my possessions – a kind of flood had come

(6) For a long time, stiff-necked and defiant, we kept our steps away from the mosque
Now we bow our head ceaselessly in prostration, as old age has bent us like an arch

(7) It was love’s early days, when a kind of wave would surge sometimes
Now if you look at my tear-washed eye, it’s like a maelstrom

(8) When I drunkenly strayed into the mosque, he got up and went out a hundred times
Yesterday, through nervousness, the Preacher got a kind of diarrhea

(9) Lay a hand over Mir’s heart, and find out how he is
Nowadays, this young man remains rather disturbed

 

Tahira Naqvi:

Tahira Naqvi is a guest translator for this site.

(1) The rose will melt away like water with embarrassment in the garden
If your moon-like face happened to emerge from the veil

(2) It has the color of a rose-petal, the demeanor of coral
Just look, it sparkles, that lip that is like a pure ruby

(3) That essence of existence has not been created anywhere by alchemy
I am restless like quicksilver because of the excess of my ardor

(4) The heart did did not have enough strength to remember, my friend
So now the pleasure of the day of our union is like a forgotten dream

(5) In the violent rumbling that was life, no sensation, awareness or breath remained
Something like a flood came and took all that I possessed in its wake

(6) As an act of rebellion I avoided going past the mosque for years
Now after my body is bent like a niche all my time is spent in prostration

(7) It was the beginning of love when that wave once swelled
Now when you see the tear-washed eye it is like a whirlpool

(8) I left the mosque a hundred times in a state of wanton drunkenness
Yesterday, driven by fear, the preacher got the runs

(9) Place your hand upon Mir’s heart, ask him how he is feeling
This young man is restive these days