kabhi ai haqiqat-e-muntazar nazar aa libas-e-majaz men ki hazaron sajde tadap rahe hain miri jabin-e-niyaz men o long-awaited truth appear someday in metaphor's guise, for on my brow of longing, a thousand prostrations writhe and rise. tarab-ashna-e-kharosh ho tu nava hai mahram-e-gosh ho vo sarod kya ki chhupa hua ho sukut-e-parda-e-saz men let joy embrace the thrill of sound, you are melody, meet the ears, what worth has a lute that lies concealed, in silence, shrouded, drears? tu bacha bacha ke na rakh ise tira aaina hai vo aaina ki shikasta ho to aziz-tar hai nigah-e-aina-saz men guard not thy mirror with such care, nor fear its shattered face, for the broken ones are dearer still, in the craftsman’s fond embrace. dam-e-tauf kirmak-e-shama ne ye kaha ki vo asar-e-kuhan na tiri hikayat-e-soz men na miri hadis-e-gudaz men while circling around the candle’s glow, the grieving moth did say, no trace of old kind remains in our tales of ardour and anguish today. na kahin jahan men amaan mili jo amaan mili to kahan mili mire jurm-e-khana-kharab ko tire afv-e-banda-navaz men no refuge did i find anywhere in the world; if i did, then where? only in thy divine forgiveness was my sin-ravaged soul given care. na vo ishq men rahin garmiyan na vo husn men rahin shokhiyan na vo ghhaznavi men tadap rahi na vo kham hai zulf-e-ayaz main gone is the ardor that once lit love, gone the coquetry of the fair, no more does ghaznavi ache with longing, nor is there a curl in ayaz’s hair. jo main sar-ba-sajda hua kabhi to zamin se aane lagi sada tira dil to hai sanam-ashna tujhe kya milega namaz men when i bowed my head in solemn prayer, a whisper rose from the ground, when thy heart adores the idols still—what blessing in prayer can be found? kabhi ai haqiqat-e-muntazar nazar aa libas-e-majaz mein ki hazaron sajde tadap rahe hain meri jabin-e-niyaz mein o long-awaited truth appear someday in metaphor's guise, for on my brow of longing, a thousand prostrations writhe and rise. tarab-ashna-e-kharosh ho tu nawa hai mahram-e-gosh ho wo sarod kya ki chhupa hua ho sukut-e-parda-e-saz mein let joy embrace the thrill of sound, you are melody, meet the ears, what worth has a lute that lies concealed, in silence, shrouded, drears? tu bacha bacha ke na rakh ise tera aaina hai wo aaina ki shikasta ho to aziz-tar hai nigah-e-aina-saz mein guard not thy mirror with such care, nor fear its shattered face, for the broken ones are dearer still, in the craftsman’s fond embrace. dam-e-tauf kirmak-e-shama ne ye kaha ki wo asar-e-kuhan na teri hikayat-e-soz mein na meri hadis-e-gudaz mein while circling around the candle’s glow, the grieving moth did say, no trace of old kind remains in our tales of ardour and anguish today. na kahin jahan mein aman mili jo aman mili to kahan mili mere jurm-e-khana-kharab ko tere afw-e-banda-nawaz mein no refuge did i find anywhere in the world; if i did, then where? only in thy divine forgiveness was my sin-ravaged soul given care. na wo ishq mein rahin garmiyan na wo husn mein rahin shokhiyan na wo ghaznawi mein tadap rahi na wo kham hai zulf-e-ayaz main gone is the ardor that once lit love, gone the coquetry of the fair, no more does ghaznavi ache with longing, nor is there a curl in ayaz’s hair. jo main sar-ba-sajda hua kabhi to zamin se aane lagi sada tera dil to hai sanam-ashna tujhe kya milega namaz mein when i bowed my head in solemn prayer, a whisper rose from the ground, when thy heart adores the idols still—what blessing in prayer can be found?
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