Hindustani Lyrics | Page 9

and rest,?I find it but a never-ending quest;?And I, who sat in quietude and peace,?Toil on a journey that shall never cease.
SHAMSHAD.
XXXIX.
Repent not, for repentance is in vain,
And what is done is done;?What shouldst thou reck of me and all my pain?
For what is done is done.
They said to her--Behold him, he is dead!
How did he lose his life, unhappy one??--O bury him deep in the grave, she said,
For what is done is done.
This is the pain of love that I have caught,
And what is done is done;?A thousand remedies avail me naught,
And what is done is done.
For love I gave the honour of my name,
And Good and Evil are to me as one;?Let all the world chastise me with its blame,
For what is done is done.
The dust of Taban we could find no more,
But yet nor rest nor respite hath he won;?His breath, his soul, floats round thee as before,
And--what is done is done.
TABAN.
XL.
O Lovely One, when to the ravished sight?Thou wilt unveil that radiant face of thine,?Each atom of the worlds, catching thy light,?Reflecting thee, bright as a sun shall shine.
Walk not, my flower, within the garden close,?Lest thou should give the bulbul new distress;?For at thy glance each blossom turns a rose?To lure him with her cruel loveliness.
Victorious One, thou hast unsheathed thy sword,?The scimitar of thy beauty gleams again,?So over all thy lovers thou art Lord,?Holding dominion in the hearts of men.
Art thou serene and calm and unafraid?When thou considerest thy tyranny??Think of the reckoning that shall be made?Between thy heart and mine at Judgment Day.
WALI.
XLI.
O ask not frigid Piety to dwell
In the same house with Youth and warm Desire;?It were as idle as if one should tell
Water to be a comrade of the Fire.
O say not only that the Loved One left
My lonely heart, and fled beyond recall;?But I of rest and patience am bereft,
And losing Her I am deprived of all.
Take heed, O Hunter, though within thy net
Thou hold this bird, my soul, with many bands,?I struggle sore, for Freedom lures me yet,
And may escape from out thy cruel hands.
YAKRANG.
XLII.
Thou shouldst have given to me the robe and crown
And made me king of kings,?Or dressed me in the tattered darwesh gown,
Poorest of earthly things.
O that I were thy fool to do thy will,
Simple and led by thee!?What meaning have my knowledge and my skill,
They have no worth to me.
Lo, thou hast made me as the dust that flies
Unheeded in the street,?O were I that which in her pathway lies,
Trodden beneath her feet!
My heart is as it were to fringes shred,
Such wounds it had to bear;?Would that it were the comb, to touch her head,
To tend her perfumed hair!
Long have I known that it was thy design
To burn my soul outright;?O may at least the happy fate be mine
To be the Tavern light!
ZAFAR.
XLIII.
Mine eyes were shut
And yet I saw the shining vision gleam;?Now that mine eyes are opened, know I not
Was it a thought that held me--or a dream?
Long to myself I said--It will be well,
When I can see her, I will tell my pain:?Now she is here, what is there left to tell?
No griefs remain.
Faithless she is to me, and pitiless,
Despotic and tyrannical she is,?I looked for love, I looked for tenderness,
I leant on vain impossibilities.
I listened to thy voice that stole to me
Across the curtain where thou satst apart,?Desire came like a restless ecstasy,
A sorcery that fell upon my heart.
When I had burst my prison, and was free,
I saw no fetters held me, and I found,?O Zafar, that these chains that shackle me
Are ties of self wherewith my soul is bound.
ZAFAR.
XLIV.
I care not if no rest nor peace remain,?I have my cherished pain,?I have my rankling love that knows no end,?And need no other friend.?I yearned with all my heart to hold her fast,?She laughed, and fled, and passed!?Lakhs of enchantments, scores of spells I wove,?But useless was my love.?I would have given my life to make her stay,?She went away, away, she went away.?Though I effaced myself in deed and thought?And brought myself to naught,?The dark and sundering curtain hangs between?I cannot pierce the screen.?And still I know behind the veil she hides,
And naught besides?In all this changing Universe abides!
ZAFAR.
XLV.
That I should find her after weary years,?And that mine eyes should keep from happy tears,--
That is not possible, this is not possible.
If she should come after these many days,?And if my wondering eyes forget to gaze--
That is not possible, this is not possible.
Sometimes I long to kiss my idol's face,?Sometimes to clasp her in my wild embrace--
That is not possible, this is not possible.
How can I let her seek my rival's door,?How can I bear the friends I loved before--
That is not possible, this is not possible.
O Zafar, does she bid me to return,?And dare I, for I tremble and I burn--
That