S. R. Faruqi:

(1) Just look, does it rise from the heart or from the soul?
It's something like smoke but from where does it arise?

(2) Is it a burnt heart that lies buried in the sky?
A flame arises there at every break of dawn.

(3) Never, never go away from the heart's quarter.
Did anyone ever leave such an excellent dwelling place?

(4) Every time my wailing rises up
A tumultuous clamor arises in the sky.

(5) In whatever spot her bold and seductive eye strikes
A tumult of calamities arises.

(6) Fiery, passionate voices: shouldn't you look to your own house?
There's something, something like smoke, that arises from your house.

(7) You think anybody ever would let him settle down again,
The one who once rose from your doorstep?

(8) I left someone's street--ah, it was just the way
one leaves this world.

(9) Love is a stone with a mighty heft, oh Mir!
Hoisting it will never be possible for a frail man like you.

 

FWP:

(inspired by SRF's translation)

(1) Look! Does it arise from the heart, or from life itself?
It's something like smoke-- but from where does it arise?

(2) Which heart-burnt one lies buried in this sky?
A single flame arises, from here, with every dawn.

(3) Be warned-- don't leave the dwelling of the heart!
Does anyone rise and move out of such a house?

(4) When my laments ring out,
a special tumult arises in the sky.

(5) Wherever her mischievous eye falls,
there a calamity arises.

(6) Oh voice-flame, look out for your own house too!
From the nest, some smoke arises.

(7) He can never then be seated anywhere--
the one who rises from your threshold.

(8) In such a way we rose, ah! from that street--
the way someone rises to leave the world.

(9) Passion is a heavy boulder, Mir.
How can it be lifted by a weak one like you?

 

Zahra Sabri:

Zahra Sabri is a special guest translator for this site.

(1) Just take a look – is it rising from the heart or the soul?
This smoke-like thing – where is it rising from?

(2) Which burnt-hearted person’s grave is this sky?
Every morning, a flame rises from here

(3) Be cautioned, don’t leave the home of the heart
Who rises and leaves a house such as this?

(4) When my piercing cry of lament rings out
A certain tumult rises from the sky

(5) Wherever her mischievous glance alights
A commotion rises from there

(6) Have an eye to your own house, too, oh flame-voiced one
There’s some smoke which rises from your nest

(7) Who then even allows him to sit down?
The one who rises from your threshold

(8) We rose from that lane in such a way – alas!
As someone rises to quit the world

(9) Love, oh “Mir”, is a particularly heavy stone
A frail one like you can hardly rise and lift it