Faiz Ahmed
Faiz -
May it be, that I, "write praises of Beauty, compose songs
of Love."
I simply love Faiz. Over the past
ten years or so, Faiz has been one of the major influence on the way I
perceive the world out there as well as the one within.
Here you will find the translations of a few of his poems,
gathered from different web-sites. These translations do not
capture the true splendor of Faiz's words, nor do they personify
the vigor of his expression. However, I hope the reader with an
acute appreciation for word in all its nuances, will be
able to relate to them.
When
Autumn Came
Once
Again The Mind
Before
You Came
Last Night
Some Lover To Some Beloved
Highway
Incarceration
Of Loneliness
My
Heart, My Traveler
Loneliness
Don't Ask Me For The Same Love - My
Sweetheart!
We, Who Were Slain In Unlit
Pathways
A
Prayer
Heart
Attack
Spring
Blossoms
Blackout
Tonight There Is No One
Fettered-Feet Lets Walk Through
Town
Were My Love To Find Eloquence
This is the way that autumn came to the trees:
it stripped them down to the skin,
left their ebony bodies naked.
It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves,
scattered them over the ground.
Anyone could trample them out of shape
undisturbed by a single moan of protest.
The birds that herald dreams
were exiled from their song,
each voice torn out of its throat.
They dropped into the dust
even before the hunter strung his bow.
Oh, God of May have mercy.
Bless these withered bodies
with the passion of your resurrection;
make their dead veins flow with blood again.
Give some tree the gift of green again.
Let one bird sing.
Once
Again The Mind
Today, as usual, the mind goes hunting for a word,
one filled with venom, a word
sultry with honey, heavy with love,
smashing with fury.
The word of love must be brilliant as a glance
which greets the eye like a kiss on the lips,
bright as a summer river, its surface streaming gold,
joyous as the moment when the beloved enters
for the appointed meeting.
The word of rage must be a ferocious blade
that brings down for all time the oppressor's citadel.
The word must be dark as the night of a crematorium;
if I bring it to my lips
it will blacken them forever.
Today every instrument is forsaken by its melody,
and the singer's voice goes searching for its singer.
Today the chords of every harp are shredded
like a madman's shirt. Today
the people beg each gust of wind
to bring any sound at all, even a lamentation,
even a scream of anguish,
or the last trump crying the hour of doom.
Before You Came
Before you came things were just what they were:
the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed,
the limit of what could be seen,
a glass of wine no more than a glass of wine.
With you the world took on the spectrum
radiating from my heart: your eyes gold
as they open to me, slate the colour
that falls each time I lose all hope.
With your advent roses burst into flame:
you were the artist of dried-up leaves, sorceress
who flicked her wrist to change dust into soot.
You lacquered the night black.
As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine:
one was my tear-drenched shirt,
the other an aching nerve,
the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing.
Now you are here again - stay with me.
This time things will fall into place;
the road can be the road,
the sky nothing but the sky;
the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine.
Last Night
Last night, your
lost remembrance crept into my heart
as spring arrives secretly into a barren garden
as a cool morning breeze blows slowly in a desert
as a sick person feels well, for no reason.
Some Lover To Some Beloved
Down the memory lanes, on which
you've strolled since ages past
They will end if you walk farther a step or two
Where exits the turn towards the wilderness of forgetfulness
beyond which, there isn't any Me, nor any You
My eyes hold their breath, for any moment you
may turn back, move ahead, or at least turn to look back
Although my sight knows that the wish is just a
farce
For if ever it were to run across your eyes again
right there will spring forth another pathway
Like always, where ever we run into, there will begin
another journey of your lock's shadow, your embrace's tremor
The other wish is also in error, for my heart knows
There is no turn here, no wilderness, no mountain-range
beyond whose horizon, my perpetual sun-of-your-Love can set
May you continue walking these pathways, its better this way
If you don't even turn to look back, it is okay
Highway
A despondent highway is stretched,
its eyes set on the far horizon
On the cold dirt of its bosom,
its grayish beauty spread
As if some saddened woman
in her lonely abode, lost in thought.
In contemplation of union with her Beloved
every pore sore, limbs limp with exhaustion
Incarceration Of Loneliness
On the far horizon waved some flicker of light
My heart, a city of suffering, awoke in a state of dream
My eyes, turning restless, still dreaming,
the morning, dawning in this vacuous abode of separation
In the wine-cup of my heart, I poured my morning
wine
Mixing in the bitterness of the past, the poison of the present
On the far horizon waved some flicker of light
far from the eye, a precursor to some morning
Some song, some scent, some unbelievably pretty face
went by unknowingly, carrying a distressful hope
Mixing in the bitterness of the past, the poison
of the present
I proposed a toast to the longings on this day of prison-visit
To the fellow drinkers of my homeland and beyond
To the beauty of the worlds, the grace of beloved's lip and cheek
My Heart, My Traveler
My heart, my fellow traveler
It has been decreed again
That you and I be exiled,
go calling out in every street,
turn to every town.
To search for a clue
of a messenger from our Beloved.
To ask every stranger
the way back to our home.
In this town of unfamiliar folk
we drudge the day into the night
Talk to this stranger at times,
to that one at others.
How can I convey to you, my friend
how horrible is a night of loneliness
It would suffice to me
if there were just some count
I would gladly welcome death
if it were to come but once
Loneliness
Someone is at the door again, my weeping heart,
no, no one
Perhaps a passerby, who will go somewhere else
The night has passed, waiting, the star-dust is
settling
Sleepy candle-flames are flickering in distant palaces
Every pathway has passed into sleep, tired of waiting
Alien dust has smudged all traces of footsteps
Blow out the candles, let the wine and cup flow
Close and lock your sleepless doors
No one, no one will come here now.
Don't Ask
Me For The Same Love - My Sweetheart
Don't ask me for the same love, my sweetheart
I thought that life was radiant because of you
Why complain of worldly woes, once in your love-affliction
Your countenance brings eternity to the youth of spring
What else is there in the world but for the beauty your eyes
If you were mine, my destiny would surrender to me
This was not so, only my wish for it to be
There are sufferings in the world other than the suffering of love
There are pleasures other than the delight of our union
Dark, heinous spells of uncountable centuries.
Woven into rich silk and precious brocades
being sold in every corner, bodies,
covered in dirt, drenched in blood.
Bodies, burning in hot ovens of disease
Puss seeping from open, lacerating wounds.
My sight returns to this as well, I am helpless
Your beauty is heart warming still, but I am helpless
There are sufferings in the world other than the suffering of
love
There are pleasures other than the delight our union
Don't ask me for the same love, my sweetheart!
We, Who Were Slain
In Unlit Pathways
Wishing for the roses of your lips
we offered ourselves to a gallows' twig
Longing for the radiance of your glowing hands
we let ourselves be slain in unlit pathways
On the gallows away from our face
darted the redness of your ruby lips,
waved the playfulness of your youthful locks,
shone the glow of the silver palms.
When the evening of suffering settled in your alleys
we came, as far as our steps could bring
Words of poetry on our lips, a lamp of anguish in our hearts
Our suffering was a testimony to your beauty
See, we were faithful to our pledge
We, who were slain in unlit pathways.
If failure was our destined end
your love was indeed our own doing.
Who is to blame if all the roads of passion
led to the killing grounds of separation.
Picking up our flags from these grounds
will march forth more caravans of your lovers
For whose journeys' sake, our footsteps have
shortened the lengths of the agonizing quest
For whose sake we have made universal
by losing our lives, the pledge to your faithfulness
We, who were slain in unlit pathways.
A Prayer
Come, let us join our hands in prayer.
We, who can not remember the exact ritual
We, who, except the passion and fire of Love,
do not recall any god, remember no idol.
Let us beseech, that may the Divine Sketcher
mix a sweet future in the present's poison
For those who can't bear the burden of time,
the rolling of days on their souls, may He lighten
Those, whose eyes don't have in their fate, the rosy cheek of
dawn
may He set for them some flame alight.
For those, whose steps know no path
may He show their eyes some way in the night.
May those whose faith is following falsehood and pomp
have the courage to deny, the boldness to discover.
May those whose heads wait for the oppressors sword
have the ability to push off the hand of the executioner.
This secret of Love, which has put the soul on fire,
may we express it today and the burning be gone.
This word of Truth that pricks in the core of the heart,
may we say it today and the itching be gone.
Heart Attack
Pain was so intense that night that my belligerent heart
wanted to quarrel with every vein.
Wanted to seep through every pore.
And as if far away in your courtyard,
every leaf, every petal, soaked in my spiritless blood,
appeared disheartened from the beauty of the shining moon.
As if in my barren being
all aching fibers unknotted
and started singing, one after the other, songs
of preparations of leaving on passion's last journey.
And when, in the dwindling shimmers of my fading memory, I saw
an instant, one last moment of your Love-consolations.
The pain was so intense that I even wished to leave this behind.
I wanted to stay, but my heart wouldn't have it that way.
Spring Blossoms
Spring blossoms, it is as if
All have returned from oblivion
Every dream, every youthful theme
The ones that died for your beauty's sake
But rose again to love partake
Roses now with freshness teem
The ones fragrant with your remembrance
The ones that make your lovers dance
Torments all rage supreme
Regrets of our friends' disgrace,
Intoxication of a lover's embrace,
Heart's remorse none can redeem
Mine and yours,
Questions, answers unforeseen
Spring blossoms and they start anew
The journals of my love to you
Blackout
Ever since the lights have gone out,
I search in the dust, for I don't know
where have I lost both my eyes.
If anyone knows, please tell me my identity.
It feels as if in every vein flows,
wave after wave, some venom's deadly river.
Carrying a desire for you, your memories, my sweetheart,
I wonder on which wave goes my heart afloat?
Wait! For any moment from some world beyond,
lightening may come to me with a bright white hand*!
And the lost pearls of my eyes,
intoxicated in the wine of this darkness,
the night-brightening jewels of my eyes are returned me.
Wait, for any moment, some wave may crash against the riverbank.
And my rejuvenated heart,
washed in venom, annihilated in your Love, floats ashore!
So that I may undertake a new journey with fresh heart and sight.
Write praises of Beauty, compose songs of Love.
Tonight, There Is No One
No one feels close to the heart tonight.
Away from sight many magical lands call.
Dream after dream, palaces with open hands call.
But they are desolate inside.
No one feels close to the heart tonight.
Some song, some scent, some unbelievably pretty face.
Some passing promise, a hope's fleeting trace.
Gloomy memory, a sigh, faith, faithless plight
Nothing!
No one feels close to the heart tonight.
If your memory is with me, then whether you are near or far
Every moment, my wailing heart's shadow weaver you are
And if not, then no where, no one in sight.
No one feels close to the heart tonight.
As evening blurs into the night, my loneliness
sinks into my heart like a dead weight.
Lo! the moon rises with your remembrance.
Life feels friendly, compassionate.
If there is anything we have with us it's only this:
the longings for some beloved, this agonizing bliss.
In hopes of a rising sun, since a lifetime we have
waited by a late-night candle flame's hiss.
Fettered-Feet Lets
Walk Through Town
A weeping eye, a love-scald soul is not enough anymore.
Enduring blame for a love untold, it's not enough anymore.
Fettered-feet lets walk through town, to settle again our score.
Breaking our self-embrace; gay and dancing let us go.
With soot covered faces and blood-stained clothes
Beloved's city is waiting; some friends, but mostly foes:
The magistrate is there, and common folks as well
Piercing accusations, invectives hurled from hell
Gloomy morns and hopeless days, caught in a cursed spell.
Who will breathe in them a breath of life except us?
Righteous folks in Beloved's town? None, but only us.
Worthy of executioner's swing? Us and only us.
Prepare your heart, O' love-torn folks, for its last and final
bow.
Lets be slain for truth again. Come lets go now!
Were My Love To Find
Eloquence
My love a soundless song
My name a faceless trace
Were my love to find eloquence
My being would find its evidence
Were my trace to gain an eminence
It would rid me of my nescience
Were I to attain omniscience
My tongue would break my reticence
I'll become king of the universe
Command heights of magnificence
Acknowledgements
- Thanks to
Hamid Raheem Sheikh for allowing
me to put these translations on my web-site.
Moreover, thanks to
Shad M. Ahmed for
making the translations of a few of the poems available online.
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