Ghazal 47, Verse 1

Nazm:

That is, when verdigris appeared on the mirror of the spring breeze, then greenery came into being. This is an illustration [tam;siil] of the fact that glory/appearance cannot be incorporeal and without relationship to substance. (42-43)

== Nazm page 42

Vajid:

Urdu text: Vajid 1902 {47}

Bekhud Dihlavi:

He says, until lightness is mixed with impurity, it cannot have the ability to produce glory/appearance. In the second line is an illustration [tam;siil] by way of proof of this idea. That is, the glory/appearance of the spring breeze occurs by means of the garden, as if the garden, with respect to its greenness, is the verdigris of the mirror of the spring breeze. The meaning is that the impurity of verdigris of the garden is the cause of the glory/appearance of the purity of the spring breeze. (85)

Bekhud Mohani:

As long as there's no impurity, the glory/appearance of lightness can't be seen. That which you consider to be a garden is not a garden-- rather, it's the verdigris on the mirror of the spring breeze. That is, the effects of the spring breeze can be seen. By itself, the spring breeze is not a thing that can be seen. People say that they've seen the spring; their opinion is incorrect. (106)

Arshi:

Compare {63,1}. (170)

FWP:

SETS
JALVAH: {7,4}
MIRROR: {8,3}
SPRINGTIME: {13,2}

Ghalib originally composed a ghazal of six verses (Raza p. 121), from which he chose two (Hamid p. 38) for publication in his divan. More on this topic: S. R. Faruqi's choices.

For more on Ghalib's often-baroque 'mirror' images, see {8,3}. Clearly the word zangaar wants us to imagine a metal mirror, one that might have some verdigris or rust on it. Here's a look at a bronze mirror covered with zangaar (from the Pakistan-Afghanistan region, c.1300's, about 7" in diameter):

 

The spring breeze is so pure and ineffable that it's invisible. It's like a mirror so bright and lustrous that it can hardly be seen at all, and can only act as a pure reflector. Only when the mirror contains some verdigris or rust do we actually notice it as a mirror, and not just see what is reflected in it. The cloudy green of verdigris, as Nazm points out, has a fine affinity with the greenery of the garden. Other verses about such verdigris: {48,10} (in the 'rainy season'); {63,1}; one that actually uses the term zangaar : {60,10}. In {217,2} the allusion is to verdigris on the edge of a sword.

At least, this is the best I can make of the metaphor. But I'm not entirely satisfied. What does it mean to imagine a metal mirror that is so light or clear or pure as to be invisible? How can it fail to still look like a piece of shiny metal? And since it would presumably then be an ideal reflecting surface, why can't it produce jalvah through what it reflects? If what is desired is its own jalvah rather than that of what it reflects, then why is the garden part of the spring breeze's own intrinsic jalvah , rather than (as seems more logical) part of what it reflects? Should we then say that the green garden-verdigris on the breeze-mirror is what alerts us to the fact that not just the spring breeze but the whole physical world is a mirror, presumably of God's presence?

Ghalib certainly knew glass mirrors, as can be seen indirectly in {34,2}, where he insists that his verse refers not to a glass but to a metal one. If we were permitted to think of a glass mirror, I would love to imagine that the garden is the painted metallic backing (dark on one side, brilliant on the other) that turns the transparent glass of the breeze into a reflective mirror. Although I know this is my own invention, I still can't help but like it.