'Far from this wealth of life, there's no pleasure in living,
The one who went from her door, it was as if he went from the world.'
The idea that is hidden in the veil of implication in the present verse, has become open in the Persian verse. And in the Persian verse there's also the flaw of verbosity. Then, in the sixth divan Mir presents this theme like this [{1875,5}]:
us galī se jo uṭh gaʾe be-ṣabr
mīr goyā kih ve jahāñ se gaʾe
[he who rose up from that street, without endurance
Mir, so to speak he went from the world]
Here, in the word be-ṣabr , and in the slight echo of the previous verse,
there's definitely a pleasure; but there's not the abundance of meaning that is in the present verse. Then, in the present verse the first-person speaker has given the matter 'dramaticness' and immediacy, while in the Persian verse and {1875,5} there's the mood of generalized expression. In such expression there's no immediacy, no 'tumult-arousingness'. The present verse is brimming with 'mood', and is not devoid of meaning either.
The ambiguity of the second line has created the following possibilities: (1) When we arose, then many people sighed and lamented, as if not we but some funeral procession had set out. (2) We went from there as unwillingly and unconsentingly as if we would be departing from the world. (3) We did not rise from our own wish, but rather were compelled to rise, the way a bier is lifted up. (4) We arose from there as sadly and sorrowfully as if someone would be leaving the world, and we would be sharing in the mourning for him. (5) Far from the beloved there's no pleasure in life; thus when we arose from that street, then, so to speak, we arose from the world itself.
It should also be kept in mind that he has identified the beloved's street only by saying 'that street'. In this way there's also the pleasure of eloquence-- that he has used uṭhnā in both lines, with two separate meanings. In the first line apparently the āh seems to be padding, but in fact it's very effective. The first point is that it has an affinity with uṭhnā , because a sigh too is assumed to be 'rising up'. The second point is that the āh sound is very well suited to one who rises with weakness and downheartedness.
The third point is that the word āh alludes to the fact that the speaker is telling someone about his condition. Various stages of the story of passion are being mentioned-- at one time there is delight, at another time pain and sorrow. This occasion is one of pain and sorrow, so that the speaker sighs and says, 'we arose from that street the way one rises from the world'.
The theme of rising from the beloved's door in a state of madness, or after dying, Khusrau has expressed [in Persian] with great 'mood' and freshness. It wouldn't be surprising if Mir had profited from this verse by Khusrau:
'Of ourself, we did not go away from this door
But we went outside ourself and went away.'
As opposed to Khusrau, Sauda said with great wit,
tire nikāle se tujh ghar se kaun jātā hai
vuhī to jāʾegā pyāre kih jis kī āʾī hai
[having been thrown out by you, who goes from your house?
only he will go, dear, whose fate/doom/'come' it is]
