S. R. Faruqi:

gul-zamīn = section of land

In all the famous editions the first line of this verse is given as:

us gul-zamii;N se ab tak ugte hai;N sarv jis jaa

It's clear that with the presence in the second line of jis par , in the first line jis jā is entirely wrong. Things couldn't be greatly improved by us jā either, because without it the prose structure is complete. In the Mahmudabad manuscript, in place of jis jā is māʾil . I have adopted this reading, because through it the verse not only becomes complete, but its meaning is also doubled.

The thought of the verse is very fine and eloquent [badīʿ]. The beloved, intoxicated by wine, was swaying as she walked along. In swaying, the body also bends/bows. Wherever the shadow of this bending, swaying body fell, there the ground became so fertile, and through ardor became so full of relish, that wherever the shadow had fallen, there cypress trees sprang up; but the cypress trees were not straight as usual, but rather in imitation of the beloved's bent body they themselves turned out to be bent [māʾil]. (The beloved is called 'cypress-statured', 'cypress-gaited', a 'moving cypress', etc.)

The meaning of māʾil is 'having an inclination'-- that is, also 'loving', and 'finely-moving' [ḳhvush-ḳhirām] as well. It's clear that on the basis of these three meanings the word māʾil has taken this verse, of which the thought itself was supremely lofty, to a whole different level.

Here gul-zamīñ too-- how appropriate it is! And with regard to 'cypress', and because of colorfulness occurring from the beloved's shadow falling (especially when the beloved herself is, from the effect of wine, becoming rose-colored), it has an unlimited affinity. For a word such as gul-zamīñ to occur is itself a masterful stroke. because other more common words for 'garden' were available and the job could have been done with them.

The beloved's individuality has an influence on external nature; this is something Mir has often said. For example, in the third divan [{1122,5}]:

mil gayā phūloñ meñ us rang se karte huʾe sair
kih tāmul kiye pāyā use gulzār ke bīch

[I found her among the flowers, strolling in such a mood/'color'
that, having hesitated, I found her in the midst of a flower-bed]

In the fourth divan:

{1354,3}.

But the present verse's unfettered imagination is unique; he's composed a wonder of a verse!

Nasikh too has used the theme of the present verse, but that flight of imagination and that excellence of words are not there:

bāġh se ugte haiñ vāñ se gul-e raʿnā ab tak
jis jagah sāyah paṛā thā tirī raʿnāʾī kā

[attractive flowers spring up from the garden, till now,
where the shadow of your attractiveness had fallen]

[See also {1373,1}; {1504,2}; {1536,5}.]

FWP:

SETS == WORDPLAY
MOTIFS
NAMES
TERMS == AFFINITY; RHYME

Note for grammar fans: The prose order of the second line would be: jis par terā sāyah , mastī meñ jhukte [huʾe] , paṛā hai .

Note for meter fans: The spelling of sāyah as sāyā is required by the rhyme [qāfiyah] of this ghazal.

Note for translation fans: It's convenient for us translators that 'inclination' and 'leaning' too, like māʾil , can refer either to a physical slant (an inclined plane, a leaning tower), or to a favorable tendency ('I'm inclined to do that, I'm leaning in that direction'). It's just one of the many cases in which the basic human processes of metaphor-making operate similarly in many languages. Here as usual, the meaning evolves from a physical process to an extension into similar phenomena in the mental realm.

And of course, as usual in the ghazal world, the influence flows from the beloved (or lover) toward the natural world.