===
{265},
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 12, p. 41.

S. R. Faruqi:

(1) I learnt about the rose's cruelties, and observed the fidelity of the bulbul too.
A handful of feathers is all that is left in the garden in place of the bulbul.

(2) Just observe the effect of absorption by love: in the garden yesterday, the flower gatherer
snapped off a twig from the rose branch and the sound that was heard was the cry of the bulbul.

(3) Every night thorns pierce the garden's heart.
Such a tiny mouth and lips, and such wailings, oh, bulbul!

(4) The bulbul died traveling the path of single-minded fidelity.
Those are not veins on the rose petals, they are the claw prints of the bulbul.

(5) Spring is here, the garden is a profusion of roses, and yet
in every corner the bulbul's place is empty.

(6) Beautiful people don't pay heed even to a message that asks nothing of them.
The rose's petal-ears, after all, never caught the benediction of the bulbul.

(7) Your heart-rending wailings every night, Mir,
will spoil the enjoyment of the bulbul's call.

 

FWP:

(inspired by SRF's translation)

(1) I knew the cruelty of the rose, I saw the faithfulness of the Nightingale.
A handful of feathers lie fallen in the garden, in place of the Nightingale.

(2) Just look at the absorption of love: the flower-picker, yesterday, in the garden,
broke off a rose-branch-- there emerged the cry of the Nightingale.

(3) They turn to thorns, every night, and prick the garden's heart--
from such a small mouth, the laments of the Nightingale!

(4) He has traversed the roads of the steadfast, and died.
In the rose, these are not veins-- they are footprints of the Nightingale.

(5) Spring has come, and the rosegarden is filled with roses, but
in every corner of the garden, it'
s empty-- the place of the Nightingale.

(6) Beautiful people don't listen even to unselfish messages.
In the end there never reached the rose's ear, the blessing of the Nightingale.

(7) These heart-tearing nightly laments of yours, Mir,
will take the relish out of even the voice of the Nightingale.

 

Zahra Sabri:

Zahra Sabri is a special guest translator for this site.

(1)

(2)

(3)

(4)

(5)

(6)

(7)