Kya Kariye

Ab yahi hai qismat kya kariye
Jab yahi hai fitrat kya kariye

Hum haar chuke hain duniya ko
Ab uski waseehat kya kariye

Hum chhorh chuke hain har koshish
Ab uski naseehat kya kariye

Hum deen ke ab na duniya ke
Sunnat-o-imaamat kya kariye

Hum keh bhi dein to hai sunta kaun
Ab sach ki ye jurrat kya kariye...

[Work in progress...by Siyaah]


Rough Translation

Now, this is our luck- what can one do?
When this is our nature- what can one do?

We have lost the world
Now the divine will- of what use?

We have given up every attempt
Now the divine advice- of what use?

We're neither of the spiritual nor of the material world
Divine traditions and divine leadership - of what use?

Even if we do speak out- does anyone listen?
Now this audacity for the truth- of what use?

Sarv-o-Saman by Abida (high quality)

I was finally able to upload a higher quality version of Jazbi's Sarv-o-Saman ghazal that I translated earlier. It is quite an experience to hear it in Abida's voice, sung to Muzaffar Ali's composition. 

The Cypress and Jasmine: Sarv-o-Saman

The Cypress and Jasmine...
[by Moin Ahsan Jazbi. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

The cypress and jasmine, the waves of breeze at dawn- all are there;
O blossom, in your garden, is one of moist-eye there? [1]

Drink on for a while, in the shade of the tresses and visage;
The magic of dusk there is, the enchantment of dawn is there [2]

If the world listens, this tale of woe is lengthy indeed;
Yes if you listen, to this tale of woe- an end is there [3]

Now in the poetic world of Hind, Jazbi, after Jigar:
This I do wonder: an owner of such sight - is there? [4]


Translator's Notes

[1]Sarv: typically refers to Cypress trees, which were the first preference for gardens in Persia and remain so today; saman: shortened poetic version of yasaman i.e. jasmine; mauj: wave(s); naseem: breeze; sahar: dawn; chashm: eye; tar: wet/moist

[2]Kaakul: literally forelock (lock of hair falling on face) or topknot (style of doing hair by tying it into a high knot), by implication 'tresses' captures the expression somewhat in English; aariz: face/visage; fusoon: magic/enchantment

[3]mukhtasar: brief; taveel: lengthy

[4] Shayaraan-e-Hind: poetic world of Hind (Hind was/is commonly used in Persian and Urdu to refer to the Indian subcontinent; Saahib-nazar: Owner of sight/perspective- I translated it with the implication “such sight” but it could also be read as just “sight”, which would mean: after Jigar, none is left who can even be considered to have (“to own”) sight.


This was not an easy one: It took me some time to settle on the exact meaning and implication of some words and then re-creating the rhyme was not easy. I found it interesting to see the cultural and linguistic loan of "Sarv" (cypress tree) to Urdu in a region where such trees would not have been the norm. Look forward to thoughts and suggestions for improvement...

Sarv-o-Saman Bhi

Sarv-o-Saman Bhi
[by Moin Ahsan Jazbi]

Sarv-o-saman bhi, mauj-e-naseem-e-sahar bhi hai
Ay gul tere chaman mein koi chasm-e-tar bhi hai?

Kuchh der pi le kakul-o-aariz ki chhaaon mein
Jaadu-e-shaam bhi hai, fusoon-e-sahar bhi hai

Duniya sune to qissa-e-gham hai bohot taveel
Haan tum suno to qissa-e-gham mukhtasar bhi hai

Ab shaayaraan-e-Hind mein Jazbi, Jigar ke baad
Ye sochta hoon main koi saahib nazar bhi hai...

---
I have been listening obsessively to this one for a while, beautifully sung by Abida (I'll try and post a higher quality version later). I've found that listening to a ghazal to the point of complete immersion is where proper translation possiblities begin to form...

Jazbi is very much in his melancholy element here, and reserves a special honor for Jigar Moradabadi in the last couplet, lamenting the loss of Jigar from the poetic world. Perhaps that is what makes this ghazal even more special for me, since both are among my favorites.

Let's see how I translate this one...

the blackened landscape

In my thoughts often
simple, innocuous words
run and freeze-
into all kinds of lines, circles and other shapes...
Sometimes I feel these words are trying to tell me something
are talking to me-
of long-lost times
people and places
in a language I once knew
but have now forgotten
a name here-
a place there-
they scream at me
at this blackened landscape
where nothing remains
that can understand
or answer.

-------
A scribble from years ago...taking a break from translations...