Hindustani Lyrics | Page 6

haughty ear they did commend?Me as the faithfullest of all thy train,?Thou saidst--I hold such lovers in disdain,
I scoff at such a friend.
O Mischief-maker, passing-on thy way?So lovely is thy mien, all creatures must?Cry out--It is debarred to things of dust
To walk so winningly.
Why shouldst thou keep from tyranny anew??Why shouldst thou not betray another one??What matter if he die? Thou hast but done
What thou wast born to do.
Who cares not for his heart nor for his creed?Is the idolater. His worthless name?Is Dagh. O Fair Ones, look upon his shame!
He is disgraced indeed.
DAGH.
XV.
Thy love permits not my complaint to rise,?It reaches to my lips, and then it dies.?Now, helpless heart, I cannot aid thee more,?And thus for thee God's pity must implore.
Seest thou not how much disgrace and pain?The scornful world has heaped upon us twain,?On thee for beauty and the sins thereof,?On me for this infirmity of love.
Oft-times she will not speak to me at all,?Or if she deign to speak, the words that fall?Cold from her haughty lips are words of blame:?--I know thee not--I have not heard thy name!
Deep in my memory was graved the trace?Of all I suffered since I saw thy face;?But now, Beloved, thou hast come to me,?I have erased the record utterly.
With empty hands all mortal men are whirled?Through Death's grim gate into the other world:?This is my pride that it is granted me?To carry with me my desire for thee.
They say when I complain of all I bore?--It is thy kismet, what would'st thou have more??My rivals also bear thy tyranny,?Saying--It is her custom and must be!
DAGH.
XVI.
I met you and the pain of separation was forgot,?And all I should have kept in mind my heart remembered not.
What cruelty and scorn I in your bitter letters knew!?No love was there; O Gracious One, have you forgotten too?
Strange is the journey that my soul by wanton Love was led, Two steps were straight and clear, and four forgotten were instead.
There was some blundering o'er my fate at the Great Reckoning; You have forgot, O Keeper of the Record, many a thing.
You took my heart, but left my life behind: O see you not?What thing you have remembered, and what thing you have forgot?
To meet Annihilation's sword is the most happy lot?That man can gain, for all the joys of earth has he forgot.
A Muslim on the path of Love beside a Kafir trod,?And one forgot the Kaaba, one the Temple of his God.
DAGH.
XVII.
What happiness is to the lover left
Of peace bereft,?What freedom for his captive heart remains
Held in her chains?
Sometimes unto the mountain peaks he goes
Driven by his woes,?Sometimes within the barren wilderness
Hides his distress.
Curses on Love, and may his home disgraced
Be laid in waste!?To me the world and all the joys I sought
Are less than naught.
Gladly, O Executioner, to Death
I yield my breath;?And only wonder who shall after me
Thy victim be!
FIGHAN.
XVIII.
If you should meet the Loved One as you stray,?O give my letter secretly to her,
Then haste away?And do not tell my name, O Messenger.
O Morning Winds that from the garden blow,?Should you meet one like me forlorn and sad,
On him bestow?The peace and solace I have never had.
O Eyes that weep and weep unsatisfied,?That shed such floods, yet never find relief,
O stem your tide?Lest you should drown the world in seas of grief.
She need not have one anxious doubt of me,?She need not fear my further wanderings--
How can I flee??How can a bird escape, deprived of wings?
FIGHAN.
XIX.
How difficult is the thorny way of strife?That man hath stumbled in since time began,?And in the tangled business of this life?How difficult to play the part of man.
When She decrees there should exist no more?My humble cottage, through its broken walls,?And cruelly drifting in the open door,?The frozen rain of desolation falls.
O mad Desire, why dost thou flame and burn?And bear my Soul further and further yet?To the Beloved; then, why dost thou turn?To bitter disappointment and regret?
Such light there gleams from the Beloved's face?That every eye becomes her worshipper,?And every mirror, looking on her grace,?Desires to be the frame enclosing her.
Unhappy lovers, slaves of cruel chance,?In this grim place of slaughter strange indeed?Your joy to see unveiled her haughty glance?That flashes like the scimitar of Ede.
When I had hardly drawn my latest breath,?Pardon she asked for killing me. Alas,?How soon repentance followed on my death,?How quick her unavailing sorrow was!
GHALIB.
XX.
I grant you will not utterly forget,?I hold you not unheeding and unjust,
But ere you hear my prayer?I shall be dead and turned to senseless dust.
How little can one eager sigh attain?To touch thine icy heart to tenderness!
Who can live long enough?To win the beauty of thy curling tress?
GHALIB.
XXI.
The high ambition of the drop of rain?Is to be merged in the unfettered sea;?My sorrow when it passed all bounds of pain,?Changing, became itself the