stanzas 26 through 31

    *Urdu: stanzas 24-27*

The wandering community is again rein-turning toward the Hijaz,
The relish of/for flight has carried away ("flown off with") the wingless Nightingale.

  ==That is, they are turning the reins, to guide their horses in a new direction.
In every bud in the garden the scent of humility is restless,
You just please pluck it a bit-- the [musical] instrument is thirsty for the plectrum.
  ==The idiomatic ;zaraa , literally "a small bit," suggests a polite request, like "just" in English.
Melodies are restless to emerge from the strings,
Tur is restless to burn in that same fire!
  =="Tur" is Mount Sinai, where Moses is believed to have encountered God in the form of fire.
==The imagery moves very fast (some might say, incoherently) in this stanza: from horse-riders, to a wingless Nightingale, to buds, to a musical instrument, to Tur.
Make the difficulties of the blessed people easy,
Make the no-account ant the equal of Solomon.
  ==In Urdu mar;huum is conventionally used to mean "the late," but its literal meaning is "one who has received mercy."
==The mor is a peacock in India, but an ant in Persian.
==Hazrat Suleman was granted extraordinary wealth and powers by God.
Make the unobtainable wealth of love abundant again,
Make the temple-sitters of Hind [into] Muslims.
  ==The word dair can apply to almost any non-Muslim place of worship.
[In Persian:] "A stream of blood drips from our ancient longing
A lament heats/palpitates within the lancet-house of our breast."
  ==These two lines are in Persian, and may well be a quotation from some famous source.
==Lancets were scalpel-like tools used for blood-letting, which was once a standard medical practice. It was thought to be beneficial for agitation, hysteria, and other morbid emotional states.
== If our breast is a lancet-house, the reason could be either that we have ourselves been pierced so deeply with so many lancets; or else that our breast is a storehouse of lancets for us to use to cure our community's sickness. In medical practice, of course, lancets are used only on blood vessels near the surface, usually on the arm.
    *Urdu, stanzas 28-31*
The scent of the rose has taken the secret of the garden, off out of the garden,
What a Doomsday/disaster it is, that flowers themselves are tale-bearers of the garden.
  ==The imagery here seems to be in direct conflict with that of stanza 3: here it is a bad thing to spread the scent, there it is a good thing.
The season of the rose has became finished, the [musical] instrument of the garden has broken,
The melody-makers of the garden have flown away from the branches.
  ==The word ((ahd can mean either "season, era," or "promise, vow" (as it does in stanza 31).
==Here, and below, are more cases where Urdu and (implied) English tenses don't quite match up.
There is a single Nightingale, who is still absorbed in singing,
In his breast there is still a turmoil of melodies.
  ==Literally, ab tak is of course "until now."
The turtledoves have taken flight from the branch of the pine tree,
The petals of the flowers too have withered and become scattered.
Those old paths in the garden too have become desolate,
The branches too have become denuded of the garment of leaves.
His temperament has remained free of the bondage of the season,
If only someone in the garden understood his complaint!
  ==We're left to figure out for ourselves that the "he" in question is the solitary Nightingale from stanza 28.
There remains no pleasure in dying, nor relish in living,
If there's any relish, then it's only this: [that] of drinking the blood of the liver.
  ==To "drink the blood of the liver" means, idiomatically, to torment onself, wear oneself down.
How restless are the polish-lines in my mirror!
To what an extent glories/manifestations writhe in my breast!
  ==A metal mirror acquires tiny lines or scratches caused by the process of polishing; they are often compared to eyelashes, as if the mirror is eager to see; polish-lines are also like honorable scars that testify to the mirror's eagerness to suffer in order to become (mystically) clear and pure.
==A jalvah is an "appearance" or "manifestation," but it seems always to mean a glorious one. The suggestion here is that the poet has imaginative forms latent in his heart that are struggling to emerge.
But/perhaps in this garden there's not even any beholder,
Those who would keep wounds/scars in [their] hearts-- they aren't tulips alone.
  ==The word magar can have both senses.
==Tulips famously have a daa;G or dark wound/scar in their hearts, based on the actual look of the flower itself. Others too, the poet hints darkly, have their secret wounds or scars.
May hearts be torn by the voice of this solitary Nightingale,
May hearts be awakening through the sound of this same bell.
  ==It's ho;N or course, not huu;N .
==We could also take it as "about to awaken."
That is, may hearts become alive again through a new promise of faithfulness,
May hearts again thirst for this same ancient wine.
  ==The word ((ahd can mean either "promise, vow," or "season, era" (as it does in stanza 28).
If there's a Persian cask, then so what? --my wine is Hijazi,
If the melody is Indian ["Hindi"], then so what? --my tune is Hijazi.
  ==Here Iqbal claims that he speaks to, and for, the whole Islamic world, including the heartland of the Hijaz.
=="Hindi" means "pertaining to Hind"; it's not the modern language name.

*"Shikvah" index page*


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