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Modern Poetry of Pakistan

Page 11

by Iftikhar Arif


  I go at dawn to fetch water.

  My heart flutters—

  What if seizing my arm he calls me

  and the smoldering heap suddenly flares up?

  Gently blows the breeze.

  My longing for a swindler has deceived me,

  gently blows the breeze.

  Trees sway, eyes cannot sleep,

  gently blows the breeze.

  Translated from Punjabi by Amritjit Singh and Waqas Khwaja

  Spinning Party

  Why should I spin, why weave, mother of sorrows?

  Today the courtyard lies forsaken,

  for a band of traveling peddlers

  has stolen the clink of bangles—

  a bonfire of sighs, mother,

  for the laughter of virgins today.

  Which way should I go—

  forward, backward, left or right?

  On every side Kaidos or Kheras

  Who have harried a hundred thousand Heers,

  A hundred thousand Ranjhas burned alive.

  With whom can I share my woes,

  mother of tears?

  I spin and weep continually,

  pulling bobbin after spooled bobbin.

  I ache for my father’s home

  and twice as much I miss my brothers,

  but to whom shall I reveal my heart’s anguish?

  No one shares my pain.

  Separated from my brothers,

  I sigh endlessly—my father’s house

  is but a dream today,

  the spinning sisterhood now a party of one.

  Even the wheel’s hum

  startles and alarms me.

  With balls of cotton thread, dear mother,

  I wipe my weeping eyes,

  but my tears refuse to dry,

  mother of hope.

  No henna traced on my palms,

  no good luck threads or bracelets,

  no friends sang my wedding songs,

  no sisters-in-law applied the kohl,

  no groom arrived wearing a wedding headdress

  nor brothers blessed my departing doli—

  whomever could seize another’s arm

  dragged her away.

  Snakes hiss on all sides,

  a hundred thousand tears cry out,

  but no one hears their voice.

  Those who set fire with their own hands,

  they who dwell in palaces and mansions,

  all God’s creation is in their hands.

  In state assemblies and courts,

  they sit adjusting their turbans,

  sit tall and upright.

  What do they know of our grief?

  We are but serfs, mere hired hands—

  they, lords of the land,

  mother of desires.

  If, breaking into their mansions,

  traveling peddlers were to steal

  the clink of bangles,

  then would I see, dear mother,

  how these lords of the land,

  they who dwell in mansions and palaces,

  sit in state assemblies and courts

  adjusting their turbans,

  sit tall and upright!

  Translated from Punjabi by Amritjit Singh and Waqas Khwaja

  ZIA JALANDHARI

  Portents of Good Tidings

  I

  I harbor a beautiful dream but am miserable

  The heart dreads all auspicious signs

  Flower bud, open your eye, gradually

  Unfold little by little, slowly

  Look! Lift your eyelashes and see

  hearts split, wounds unhealed

  Eyes sunk in an abyss of lamentation

  Life ashamed of life itself

  Our shattered dreams in heaps

  bodies worn out, the spirit undone

  Life, a desert of quicksand

  Profitless grief, a consumptive chest

  All desires unsatisfied

  All regrets deadly

  The eye’s pageants, a fleeting moment

  The darkness of pain, unremitting

  Flower bud of yearning, unfold slowly

  The heart frets at every auspicious sign

  II

  When bare branches had turned black

  not a trace of sap left in their veins

  the claws of predatory winds

  that scratch and tear at the feathers of trees

  retreated somewhere within soft paws

  On the frozen lake

  here and there on a sheet of ice

  crystal circles of blue water

  like glittering eyes

  began to stir

  and from the hand of melting ice

  on all four sides the shore’s garment began to slip

  Slowly, the lake became a mirror

  On the stems of dry branches

  knots like half-closed eyes broke open

  to reveal

  tiny flames of sprouting nubs

  candles of soft unfolding buds

  the harbingers of spring

  Then suddenly

  somewhere a fierce squall produced a gale

  windstorms worked their havoc and destruction

  branches everywhere shook and fell

  Many times we have seen

  before the arrival of springtime

  seasons of spring obliterated

  Now, again, spring approaches

  and, again, I am afraid of the portents

  Flower bud, open your eye, gradually

  Unfold little by little, slowly

  Translated from Urdu by Omer Khwaja

  A Winter’s Evening

  Autumn’s days are gone

  Now, I ruminate

  They were strange days, strange times, when eyes

  peeked through the curtains of the imagination into

  every nook and corner of the past

  Days of autumn, as if someone in mature age

  were content with the achievements of youth

  Autumn, as if someone, in the sunlight of late afternoon, were enjoying a light sleep

  as if drowsiness were brushing the eyelashes with its silky fingers

  and, in this welcome tranquility, waves of a light breeze as if patting gently to sleep

  The days of autumn were strange days

  The petals of blooming flowers, long since fallen, had become one with dust and chaff

  But those flowers were now gleaming fruit

  that, heavy with nectar, glowed on bough and limb

  This was fruit that the wind’s currents could never trouble

  Eyes that once awaited spring

  had now arrived at a fixed point

  The days of autumn, as if some artist had perfected his art

  On the wind’s tides even dry leaves had lost themselves in a song—

  Here go the dry leaves, here they go

  accompanying the wind, vagrants, nomads

  away from these now desolate gardens

  away from the canopy of trees

  in whose arms they once grew and flourished

  Here go the dry leaves, here they go

  the caravan rolls, away from its past

  remembering no more the moonlit night of bliss

  nor anything from crowded gatherings

  those days remain no more, gone are those tumults and passions

  Here go the dry leaves, here they go

  going where nothing will be

  no trace of bygone springs

  no care of sorrow or hurt

  where the grief-stricken sleep in peace

  Here go the dry leaves, here they go

  Days of autumn are over

  Now that they are gone, I have begun to think

  Otherwise, as long as autumn lasted, my eyes remained wet with tears

  The memory of spring was like the echo of a forgotten raga trembling in the heart

  Spring, some ravishing girl in whose young body a rush of pleasure surged

  Thi
s lovely girl, where was she now?

  Her absence in slow autumn moments was making her dearer, most precious

  Autumn, like some stonehearted singer, stirred the tales of days past

  Only one voice welled up on all sides

  In the garden, signs of spring have been extinguished

  The tulip flame of passion is no more

  There is silence, but no peace

  Neither a rose leaf nor trace of delirium

  A regret in every eye

  No more now those longings, nor bits of cloud

  Sustained by the memory of spring

  How far can we bear this grief?

  In garden after garden, signs of spring have been extinguished

  Alarmed, the birds of the garden

  wantons of spring overtaken by autumn

  have lost the use of their wings

  They have lost their charm and manner

  They pick at their wings and feathers needlessly

  Bewildered by autumn, they wonder

  how now to spend their life

  In garden after garden, signs of spring have been extinguished

  The moments of autumn are gone

  Even when autumn was at ease, it was not quite so contented

  Even when autumn was cruel, it was not quite so stonehearted

  He who has sometime seen a winter evening pass before his eyes, he knows

  If someone, sometime, has lived alone in a snow-covered mountain valley

  then he certainly knows

  how death plays with life’s sad frame

  Autumn, after all, was autumn—I was aware of destitution even in flowering springtime

  But desires rustled within me in that state of indigence

  Spring was, after all, spring—yet there was life even in autumn

  But winter evening—

  an icy indifference rules the whole world

  I now yearn for the grief of straitened circumstances

  There is no desire now that someone leap and touch the sky

  and if any longing still lives in the heart

  no one has the courage or wish to express it

  for now winter evening spreads over the entire world

  Translated from Urdu by Waqas Khwaja

  JANBAZ JATOI

  Koël

  Hearing the koël’s cries, my heart flutters with agitation,

  every note of hers resounds with hurt and pleading.

  How the poor dear wails, she is far from her beloved,

  her pain cuts deep inside, perhaps she’s been forsaken.

  Such mournful songs, so full of sorrow, she sets the heart to shivering—

  desolate, tormented as though crucified, she weeps in her vexation.

  For a parted lover every tree is like the Mount of Moses!

  Sometimes she sits in the wilderness and keens, or suddenly takes wing,

  despoiled by fortune, distant from friends, altogether helpless—

  alas, the poor girl’s lamentations echo far and wide.

  The naïve and guileless darling, distracted in her grief,

  incessantly she cries and cries, “My beloved lies oblivious!

  I suffer far from home, he is happy in his land.

  Scanning roads and pathways, my eyes have lost their sight.

  The river is a spate of sorrows, the shore seems far,

  I will swim or else be swept across—that is, if God permits

  (I offer thanks continually, I am indebted to His grace).

  With all his charming talk, my love has my heart in thrall.”

  Constantly she cries, forever cheerless and grief-stricken,

  “Come, love, show me your face, for you stay always hidden.

  Don’t be vain about your beauty, throw off, love, your pride!

  From this impermanent world, dear heart, many loved ones have passed.

  Not content, I wander restless, in my heart, this bleeding sore,

  I raise a clamor, he replies with nothing—he is proud, so proud!

  If others know the dear one better, I accept this as it is,

  but how can I renounce him—when was this within my power?

  I practice night and day the recitation of his name,

  they desert, turn their face away—this is the custom of those we love.”

  Unswerving lovers are bruised and battered, crushed to bits,

  yet love’s path they do not leave, like Mansur they gladly mount the cross.

  You too, my sweet, cry out, “I die! Death is all I wish.

  I keep my promises—poet, write down these words!

  My loyalty, his faithlessness, they are famed throughout the world.

  The arbiter is in the heart, the universe, clemency itself.”

  Rich, poor, peasant, worker—

  Janbaz, everyone says: Alas! She is ground to death by separation.

  Translated from Seraiki by Azmat Ansari and Waqas Khwaja

  ADA JAFFERY

  Arrival of the Spring

  To the first tree in the new house

  Confidant of spring!

  You, an innocent child

  from some garden somewhere,

  have come to me.

  With such love

  have I extended to you the hospitality

  of a place in my courtyard.

  Years shall pass.

  Whenever spring comes,

  you will scatter your songs

  to the melody

  of silken, flowering buds,

  self-absorbed,

  inscribe on the heart’s tablet

  perfumed works of art.

  The thinking of the young,

  conceit of the beautiful,

  are both alike—

  before their own image

  all colors pale.

  When spring arrives,

  who knows where I will be?

  The foot-track of

  destinations is made up of twists and turns.

  You, of course, will forget

  my warm hands,

  the dreams in my eyes.

  I will not,

  for I am, intrinsically, a mother.

  Translated from Urdu by Asif Farrukhi

  Even Today

  I understand that I

  am free today of all my debts,

  have paid the price of each and every smile,

  sincerely renounced devotion and constancy,

  resolved to quit making mistakes.

  Now even I am condemned to have a life,

  and this heart that is willful, ignorant—

  in today’s age,

  when sincerity, fidelity, and love too are official decrees,

  when even tears have a price, scales everywhere to weigh and appraise—

  this heart, even today,

  longs for one spontaneous, uninhibited smile.

  Translated from Urdu by Waqas Khwaja

  Listen

  Love,

  you have no idea!

  People often get upset

  that at no stage or turn does my story

  run through a dark lane—

  for you, drawing every color from rays of light,

  have assigned to each footprint of mine the rainbow.

  There are neither shadows of lost dreams

  nor whispering moments of despair,

  for a sturdy tree

  holds in its innumerable hands

  a tender vine.

  No failure haunts this pathway.

  What kind of a journey is this that its narrative

  is not to be found in the journey’s clouds of dust?

  Translated from Urdu by Waqas Khwaja

  NASIR KAZMI

  Ghazal: Bearing Hints of Bygone Days

  Bearing hints of bygone days

  Where did he come from, where did he go?

  He was a strangely familiar stranger

  He left me in a state of awe

  Showing only his pearl-like face


  Just playing for me a tuneful song

  Like the evening star he came

  And like a dream of dawn he left

  In seasons of joy or days of sorrow

  Eyes search for him everywhere all the time

  Was he the rose’s breath or the song of life

  He came to inhabit my very heart

  No more now the rising river of memories

  No more the gloomy rain of empty hours

  Just a brief ache in the heart

  The deep wound has filled up and healed

  The breath comes a little easier now

  The course of the sky too is about to change

  The night that was heavy has turned at last

  The hard day is over

  The capricious have but one goal

  True lovers, a thousand paths

  This alone is the difference between us

  I moved on, he held back

  Feet worn out, I stand in the way

  Beckoning the days gone by

  The caravan I traveled with

  Has disappeared like the journey’s dust

  Even my blood has turned to water

  Yet not an eyelash of the heartless shakes

  The lament that rose from my heart last night

  I wonder why it had no effect

  He who would keep the tavern awake

  Who used to put night’s sleep to flight

  What came into his heart today

  He left for home at the twilight hour

  That star of the night of separation

  That dear friend, soul mate of mine

  May his name be forever beloved

  I heard last night he passed away

  He with whom, hand on his shoulder,

  You traveled to life’s destinations

  I don’t know why with head hung low

  He passed right through your lane today

  That night’s soundless traveler

  That poet of yours, your own Nasir

  I saw him go right up to your lane

  Then I wonder which way he went

  Translated from Urdu by Mehr Afshan Farooqi

 

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