Two more translations (and transliterations) of poems by Faiz Ahmed Faiz.
These are from his collection 'Naqsh-e-Faryaadi' (1943)'.
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Yeh galiyon ke aawaaraa bekaar kutte
Ke bakshaa gayaa jinko zauq-e-gadaai,
Zamaane ki phatkaar sarmaayaa unkaa
Jahaan bhar ki dhatkaar unki kamaai.
Na aaraam shab ko na raahat sawere;
Ghilaazat mein ghar, naaliyon mein basere.
Jo bigde to ek doosare se ladaa-do;
Zaraa ek roti kaa tukdaa dikhaa-do.
Yeh har ek ki thokarein khaanewaale,
Yeh faaqon se uktaake mar jaanewaale,
Yeh mazloom makhlookh gar sar uthaa-e
To insaan sab sarkashi bhool jaaye.
Yeh chahein to duniyaa ko apnaa banaalein,
Yeh aaqaaon ki haddiyaan tak chabaadein.
Koi inko ehsaas-e-zillat dilaa-de,
Koi inki soyee hui dum hilaa-de.
On every street, these vagabond, good-for-nothing dogs,
on whom is bequeathed the appetite for beggary,
amass the slurs of their age as capital
and each rebuff from their world as wage.
No rest by sundown, nor relief at the dawn,
they make dwellings of dregs, domiciles of drains.
Should they dissent, domestic strife may be bred-
just flourish before them a stale scrap of bread.
They, who endure the boot-lash of each person,
condemned to perish, piteous with starvation;
should they, the oppressed, ever raise their heads
humankind would rue every condescension.
Should they desire to rule the world, they could;
and chew upon the very bones of their masters,
if only they were alerted to their deprivations.
O! For someone to tug on their insentient tails!
Siyaasi Leader ke naam
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Saal ha saal, yeh beaasraa, jakde hue haath
Raat ke sakht-o-siyaa seene mein paiwast rahe,
Jis taraah tinka samunder se ho sargarm-e-satez,
Jis taraah titli kushaar pe yalgaar kare.
Aur ab raat ke sangin-o-siyaa seene mein
Itne ghao hain, ke jis simt nazar jaati hain
Jaa-ba-jaa noor ne ek jaal-sa bun rakhkha hain.
Door se subh ki dhadkan ki sadaa aati hain.
Tera sarmaaya, teri aas yehi haath to hai
Aur kuch hai bhi tere paas? Yehi haath to hai
Tujhko manzoor nahin ghalba-e-zulmat, lekin
Tujhko manzoor hai yeh haath qalam ho jaayein
Aur mashriq ki kameen-gah mein dhadaktaa hua din
Raat ki aahani maiyyat ke tale dab jaaye!
To a Political Leader
Year after year, these pathetic, repressed hands
remain embedded in the inky heart of night,
like the growing ardor of a straw facing off the sea,
like a butterfly screaming defiance at a mountain.
so many wounds lie inflicted in night's black marble breast
that everywhere the gaze wanders it is ensnared
by a gleam that has woven a kind of web.
From afar, the booming premonition of dawn’s heart beat.
Your worldly goods, your desires are these very hands
What else do you have? Only these hands.
You will not accept the dark dive into nightfall
yet live in denial as these hands are hacked off;
while waylaid by the east, the pounding dawn lies
entombed beneath the iron carcass of night!
Translation and Transliteration © Mustansir Dalvi, 2011, All rights reserved.