Hindustani Lyrics | Page 7

remedy.
Behold how great is my humility!?Under your cruel yoke I suffered sore;?Now I no longer feel thy tyranny?I hunger for the pain that then I bore.
Why did the fragrance of the flowers outflow?If not to breathe with benediction sweet?Across her path? Why did the soft wind blow?If not to kiss the ground before her feet?
GHALIB.
XXII.
I had a thousand desires, for each of them I would have died,
And what did I gain??So many indeed are fulfilled, but how many beside
Insatiate remain!
We have known of the tale of how Adam to exile was driven;
More shameful in truth?Is my fate to be cast from the garden more favoured than Heaven
Where she walks in her youth.
That living and dying in love are but one I have proved,
This only know I?That I live by the sight of the beauty of her the Beloved
For whom I would die.
GHALIB.
XXIII.
How long will she thus stand unveiled before me,?Shrinking and shy in maidenly distress,?How long, my dazzled eyes, can ye contemplate
Her blinding loveliness!
No rest is for my heart by love tormented,?It cannot even win the peace of death;?How long shall it endure with resignation
The pain it suffereth!
Like shifting shadows come the great and mighty,?And live their splendid day, and hurry past;?And who can tell how long the changing pageant
Of fleeting life shall last!
O look on me, unhappy Asif, driven?As dust before the wind across the street;?How long has Love ordained that I should suffer
Beneath the passing feet.
GHALIB.
XXIV.
THE WIDOW.
I call on Death, for Life is my distress,?And I myself a load of weariness?Weighing upon myself. Helpless am I;?Dared I to weep, then never would run dry?The fountains of my grief: I cannot speak:?Even the occupation that I seek?Goads me and wearies me. A jungle drear?This world and all its moving crowds appear,?And I the loneliest of all things on Earth,?Yea, lonely in the household of my birth.?Tired am I of my suffering through the years,?Even as mine eyes are wearied of their tears.?Spring comes again and brings the cooling breeze,?And Autumn with the rain among the trees,?Fair Summer with its moonlit nights of gold,?And Winter with its sweet and gentle cold;?These come and go, with morn and even-fall,?How can I tell how I have passed them all?
Well, I have borne them all!
Hope gleamed awhile, but fled unsatisfied,?The flower sprang up, but drooped and fruitless died:?The silver bow of Ede shone above all,?But never came the looked-for Festival:?I saw the splendour of the season wane,?Never the benediction of the rain?Fell on my parched heart: the thunder loud?Pealed from the bosom of the darkened cloud,?But never came the long-desired rain:?I sought the fruit upon the tree in vain,?The thorn smote deep into my heart instead:?Across the desert wastes of sands I sped?Seeing the silver watercourses gleam,?But it was all a vision and a dream,?And thirsting in the desert I was left
Lone and bereft.
HALI.
XXV.
Like silver torrents flow thy words to me,?But ah--I have no voice to answer thee.
My heart thy words have burnt with whips of fire,?Do they not burn thy lips, O Heart's Desire?
Thy promises are broken every day,?Yet--See my faithfulness!--I hear you say.
Candle-like wastes my body all these days?My flame-like tongue endures to sing thy praise.
O Hasan, I have spoke and sighed and sung,?Yet never from my heart my tale was wrung,?My secret grief can never find a tongue.
HASAN.
XXVI.
I cannot rise to follow her,
Here in the dust is my abode,?For I am but her foot-print left
Lying forgotten in the road.
Where are repose and patience gone?
Where is my honour, held so fair??All these are naught to me--I dwell
In the black chambers of Despair!
INSHA.
XXVII.
How can I win that Hidden One
Who sits within the secret place??For even in my very dreams
She wears the veil upon her face.
What heart is there in all the world
Can bear thy cruel tyranny??Keep then this broken heart of mine
That thus thou mayst remember me!
JURAT.
XXVIII.
What kind of comforter art thou to me??What help and solace in calamity??No wound is there upon my bruised heart?But thou hast touched to make it sting and smart!
But yet, Beloved One, I ask in pain?When is the hour when thou wilt come again??My soul cries out to thee in bitter need?--When wilt thou come--or wilt thou come indeed?
O Saki, do not pass my goblet by,?Although the feast is spread its lip is dry.?Be careful, O my tears, lest you should tell?The world my secret that you know too well.
O Sorrow, in thy tangled paths I go,?The Kaaba's gateway I no longer know,?But bend my head wherever I see rise?The arch that curves o'er the Beloved's eyes.
MIR.
XXIX.
To whom shall I relate?The weary story of my sorrowful love?
O Friend, this is my fate,?This is the record of the pain thereof.
I prayed in vain to her;?She said--You weary me, I hear thy prayer,
It is thy messenger,?But when it pleads with me I do not care.
I said--Never again?Canst thou