===
0006,
trans.
===

 

Notes:

SRF's translation comes, with his permission, from Mir Taqi Mir: Selected Ghazals and Other Poems, translated by Shamsur Rahman Faruqi. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2019. Murty Classical Library of India; Sheldon Pollock, General Editor. Ghazal 111, p. 315.

S. R. Faruqi:

(1) The night of separation I didn't do much wailing and appealing against tyranny.
That is to say: I took pity on my neighbors.

(2) I said: How long does a rose last?
The bud heard this and smiled.

(3) I, a tippler of wine and spirits, was by the times ultimately ground into dust and molded into a clay stopper for a vat of wine.

(4) My tears are drops of blood in my liver actually
becoming a tumult when reaching my eyelashes.

(5) There's never a time when we find him home,
so fully has Mir gone missing.

 

FWP:

(inspired by SRF's translation)

(1) In the night of separation, I made little fuss--
I felt sorry for the neighbors.

(2) I said, 'How long does a rose last?'
The bud, having heard this, smiled.

(3) The times ground a drinker like me to dust-- then foolishly
Made me into the stopper of a wine-pot.

(4) In my liver, a tear is a single drop of blood--
Reaching my eyes, it raised a hurricane.

(5) 'We never find him at home--
Mir has really gone and lost himself!'

 

Zahra Sabri:

Zahra Sabri is a special guest translator for this site.

(1) On the night of parting, I made little complaint of the agonies I was subjected to
For I was merciful to my neighbours

(2) I said, ‘How long is the life of the rose?’
The rosebud heard this and gave a smile

(3) The world, how short-sighted of it, reduced me, a drinker
To dust, and made me into the clay lid of a wine jar

(4) My teardrop is a drop of blood in the liver
Its arrival at the eyelash means a raging flood

(5) At no time do we find him home
Mir has thoroughly lost himself

 

Tahira Naqvi:

Tahira Naqvi is a guest translator for this site.

(1) On the night of separation I was not cruel and did not groan
And thus showed compassion for my neighbors

(2) I asked how long is the life of a rose
The bud heard this and smiled

(3) The world turned me, a drinker, a foolish one
Into a clay lid of the wine-cask

(4) In the liver there is only one drop of blood that is the tear
When it reached the eyelash it created a tumult

(5) He is never to be found at home
Mir has lost himself entirely