Re: World Poetry in Translation - Mostly Urdu
36
Rang hai Dil ka Mire ( A Poem of Faiz Ahmad Faiz in Six Different English Translations)
It’s the Color of My Heart
When you didn’t come,
things were they should be -
the sky was as far as I could see,
the road to travel by was a road,
the goblet was a glassful of wine.
And now, a glassful of wine,
the road to travel by,
and the color of the sky,
are like the colors of my blood,
flowing from my heart to my liver.
Sometimes golden, like the
shine of your eyes when we meet.
Sometimes grey and saddening like
the sickening feelings of partings.
Other times like colors of old
leaves, of trash, of dry grass,
of red flowers in flower-beds,
of dark sky, of poison, of blood.
Now I see the sky, the road,
the glass full of wine, my wet
robe, my aching nerves in a mirror,
changing moment by moment.
Since you’ve come, please stay.
May the things - the colors, the seasons,
stay as if they were in one place.
May everything be as it used to be -
The sky, as far as I could see,
the road to travel by, a road,
the goblet, brimming with wine.
~ translated by Ravi Kopra
http://worldpoetry.gather.com/
The following five translations with the original poem of Faiz Ahmed Faiz in Urdu, are taken from the following site:
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(A) Before You Came (tr. by Victor Kiernan)
Before you came, all things were what they are—
The sky sight’s boundary, the road a road,
The glass of wine a glass of wine; since then,
Road, wineglass, colour of heaven, all have taken
The hues of this heart ready to melt into blood—
Now golden, as the solace of meeting is,
Now grey, the livery of despondent hours,
Or tint of yellowed leaves, of garden trash,
Or scarlet petal, a flowerbed all ablaze:
Colour of poison, colour of blood, or shade
Of sable night. Sky, highroad, glass of wine—
The first a tear-stained robe, the next a nerve
Aching, the last a mirror momently altering…
Now you have come, stay here, and let some colour,
Some month, some anything, keep its own place,
And all things once again be their own selves,
The sky sight’s bound, the road a road, wine wine.
(B) Before You Came (tr. by Naomi Lazard)
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 was 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 color
that falls each time I lost 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 sky;
the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine.
(C) Before You Came (tr. by Agha Shahid Ali)
Before you came,
things were as they should be:
the sky was the dead-end of sight,
the road was just a road, wine merely wine.
Now everything is like my heart,
a color at the edge of blood:
the grey of your absence, the color of poison, or thorns,
the gold when we meet, the season ablaze,
the yellow of autumn, the red of flowers, of flames,
and the black when you cover the earth
with the coal of dead fires.
And the sky, the road, the glass of wine?
The sky is a shirt wet with tears,
the road a vein about to break,
and the glass of wine a mirror in which
the sky, the road, the world keep changing.
Don’t leave now that you’re here—
Stay. So the world may become like itself again:
so the sky may be the sky,
the road a road,
and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine.
(D) The Colour of the Moment (tr. by Shiv K. Kumar)
Before you came, everything was what it is—
the sky, vision-bound
the pathway, the wine-glass.
And now the wine-glass, the pathway, the sky’s tint—
everything bears the colour of my heart
till all melts into blood.
Sometimes the golden tinge, sometimes the hue of the joy of
seeing you,
sometimes ashen, the shade of the dreary moment—
the colour of yellow leaves, of thorn and trash,
of the crimson petals of the flower-beds aglow,
the tint of poison, of blood, of sable night.
The sky, the pathway, the wine-glass—
some tear-stained robe, some wincing nerve,
some ever-revolving mirror.
Now that you’re here, stay onso that so
me colour, some season, some object.
(E) It’s the Color of My Heart (tr. by Frances W. Pritchett)
Before you came everything
was what it is:
the sky the limit of sight
the road a road, the glass of wine
a glass of wine.
And now the glass of wine, the road, the color of the sky
are the color of my heart
while it breaks itself down
into blood.
Sometimes a gold color—a color of eyes’ delight
that sooty color, the color of disgus
tthe color of dry leaves, straw, thorns
the color of red flowers in a blazing garden
poison color, blood color, the color of black night.
The sky, the road, the glass of wine
are a sodden cloak, an aching vein,
a mirror changing every moment.
Now that you’ve come, stay—let some color, season, thing
stay in place.
One more time let everything
be what it is:
the sky the limit of sight
the road a road, the glass of wine
a glass of wine.
The original poem in Urdu:
Rang hai dil kā mire
tum nah āƒe the to har chīz vahī thī kih jo hai
āsmāñ h.add-e nazar, rāh gużar rāh gużar, shīshah-e mai shīshah-e mai
aur ab shīshah-e mai, rāh gużar, rang-e falak
rang hai dil kā mire, “k.hūn-e jigar hone tak”
champaƒī rang kabhī rāh.at-e dīdār kā rang
surmaƒī rang kih hai sā‚at-e bezār kā rang
zard pattoñ kā, k.has o k.hār kā rang
surk.h phūloñ kā dahakte hūƒe gulzār kā rang
zahr kā rang, lahū rang, shab-e tār kā rang
āsmāñ, rāh gużar, shīshah-e mai
koƒī bhīgā hūƒā dāman, koƒī dukhtī hūƒī rag
koƒī har lah.zah badaltā hūƒā āƒīnah hai
ab jo āƒe ho to t.hahro kih koƒī rang, koƒī rut, koƒī shai
ek jagah par t.hahre,
phir se ik bār har ik chīz vahī ho kih jo hai
āsmāñ h.add-e nazar, rāh gużar rāh gużar, shīshah-e mai shīshah-e mai
~ Faiza Ahmed Faiz