yih peshah ((ishq kaa hai ;xaak chhanvaa))egaa .sa;hraa kii
hazaar ai be-vafaa juu;N gul chaman-parvard hogaa tuu

1) this is the practice/pursuit of passion-- it will cause you to sift/strain the dust of the desert
2) a thousand-fold, oh faithless one, like the rose, you will be a child/servant of the garden



peshah : 'Vocation, profession, craft, trade, business; custom, habit, practice; art, skill'. (Platts p.300)


chhanvaanaa : 'To cause to be strained, to have or get strained or sifted, &c.' (Platts p.465)


parvardah : 'Fostered, nourished, cherished, bred, reared, brought up; supported, fed and clothed, patronized; —a slave'. (Platts p.256)

S. R. Faruqi:

chaman-parvard = raised in a garden

In the first line the idea is complete, and apparently now nothing has even been left to be said. The accomplishment of the poet, in 'adding a line' [mi.sra(( lagaanaa] to just such lines, is clear: the idea must be 'connected' [marbuu:t], and must also be free of useless/trifling verbosity (as is usually found in the poetry of Josh, etc.). Here, look at how he has advanced the idea. He calls the beloved a 'rose'; going beyond this, he's said that 'even if you become such a flower, one that has been brought up in the garden-- that is, if you're not self-sprung and wild, and if you have no affinity at all with the desert-- even then, the practice/pursuit of passion will keep its hold on you until it has caused you to sift/strain the dust of the desert'.

Hafiz has, in a sarcastic tone, called passion a 'noble art/skill' [in Persian]:

'I adopt passion, in the hope that this noble art/skill
Like other crafts, would not be a cause of despair.'

Arranging the affinity to suit his own purpose, Mir has called passion simply a 'practice/pursuit'-- that the way a practice/pursuit becomes a person's habit and nature, and cannot be left behind, just the same is true of passion. That is, a time will come when the intoxication of passion, and perhaps its romanticness too, may perhaps not remain; but even then passion will be with you, and and it will keep causing you to sift/strain wilderness and desert. It's obvious that the wilderness and desert can be internal, or else external.

Then, hazaar also means 'nightingale', and the flower of one kind of marigold is called gul hazaarah . In both aspects, there's a zila among gul , chaman, .sa;hraa .

There can also be a 'connection' between juu;N gul and be-vafaa . That is, 'oh you who are faithless like the rose'. Since the flower isn't in love with the Nightingale, it is called 'faithless'. In the tone of the second line there's also a kind of taunt-- you will be 'a thousandfold' garden-enslaved (that is, you will be extremely much garden-enslaved. Or, you might be raised in a thousand gardens, but passion will keep its hold on you until you've caused the dust of the desert to be sifted. Let someone compose such a multi-layered and complete verse-- then let him claim to be the 'king of poetry'!



SRF considers this to be a 'continuous' ghazal; for discussion, see {910,1}.

The 'connection' between the two lines adduced by SRF is an explicitly logical one: 'although line 2, nevertheless line 1': even if you're entirely a creature of the garden, still passion will send you out to roam madly in the desert. But nothing in the verse actually sets up this logic (there is no 'even if' or 'although'), and the verb ideally required in order to show it, in the absence of logical connectives, would be not hogaa but ho ('no matter how much you might be X, still you will suffer Y'). The literal translation above shows the actual grammar clearly.

Thus I tend to read the second line as parallel to the first line, since their grammar is parallel ('you will suffer Y, you will be X'). If we look at the whole ghazal, every single line contains a future verb, and an independent prediction (or threat) about what will happen to the beloved if she rashly becomes a lover. So here I take the second line to be another such description of the dire things that will happen to her if she becomes a lover (of herself): 'You will become a creature entirely bound up in, created by, subservient to, the garden, like the rose'. Why is this such a dire fate? Perhaps because the rose is doomed to such a brief life; the beloved, resembling the rose and/or in love with her own rose-self, is bound to share in the rose's suffering.

This reading might also help explain why the beloved is addressed as 'faithless one'. If she is doomed to become 'like the rose', then she too might have an extremely short life, and thus prove herself unfaithful by dying and leaving the speaker bereft. In a more general way, of course, she might be 'faithless' because she hasn't responded to the speaker's passion, but has treacherously fallen in love with another (that is, with herself).