S. R. Faruqi:

(1) Did that rosebud mouth ever show kindness with words?
We met often over the years, but she was always stingy with speech.

(2) Actually, there were causes enough for me to depart this life.
I'm not dead yet simply because I worry about having to get a shroud.

(3) Yesterday I found a bulbul dead at the flower seller's.
How eager-hearted the little bird was to go back to the garden!

(4) You walked with a swagger and a sway even as a boy.
I knew from the very beginning that such deportment would cause me grief.

(5) All the birds in the cage were telling the glory of the rose,
although each and every one was drooping and about to die.

(6) The wheels of the water's surface: unmoving, hard as a mirror.
Is it because her body's reflection was somewhere up the river?

[Because she went to bathe in the river, the water stopped flowing, either in wonder or because it wanted her reflection to stay in it.]

(7) It's not that I have made a practice of composing Rekhta just for the fun of it.
The fact is that my beloved came from the Deccan.

(8) The day you came out wearing a short turban twisted down to your forehead rakishly--
that was the fateful day, and my head throbbed in presentiment the moment I saw you.

[Because the beloved had become fashion conscious: he wore a short turban, and that, too, loosely coming down to his forehead in a devil-may-care manner.]

(9) Like a weary stranger Mir went his way in tears.
At every step there was complaint on his lips against the behavior of his fellow countrymen.

 

FWP:

(inspired by SRF's translation)

(1) Was there ever any pleasure of words from her bud-like mouth?
For years we met, but she was always miserly in speech.

(2) There were plenty of reasons for me to die-- but as yet
I still have anxieties about a shroud.

(3) Yesterday I found the Nightingale dead, in the flower-shop.
What ardor did that bird feel for the garden!

(4) Even as a child, you used to go tumbling around.
Right from the start, I suffered from your style.

(5) All the caged birds were busy praising the rose,
although all their heads were drooping down to death.

(6) The whole water-surface is board-flat, like a mirror.
Perhaps her body somehow was reflected in the river.

(7) It's not for nothing that I compose in Rekhtah--
my beloved was a dweller in the Dakan.

(8) The day you came out with a rakish turban down to your eyebrows--
That day, seeing you, my forehead throbbed with foreboding.

(9) Like a hapless foreigner, Mir went on his way lamenting.
At every step he complained of his countrymen.

 

Zahra Sabri:

Zahra Sabri is a special guest translator for this site.

(1) When did I ever gain the pleasure of words from that bud-mouthed one?
Even after meeting for years, she remained stinting in her speech

(2) All the reasons available were for dying, but
The fact I haven’t died yet is because I was thinking of the shroud

(3) I found the nightingale lying dead at the flower-shop yesterday
What a yearning for the garden that bird had in its heart!

(4) Your gait displayed an impudence even in boyhood
This deportment of yours was what troubled me, from the very start

(5) All the birds in the cage were singing praises of the rose
Even though each one’s neck was drooping near the point of death

(6) The entire surface of the water is flat as a board, like a mirror
Perhaps somewhere in the river was a reflection of her body

(7) It’s not for nothing that I am accustomed to composing Rekhtah verse
The person who was my beloved, was a denizen of the Deccan

(8) The day you emerged resplendent in a turban twisted down over your forehead
That very day, when I saw you, my forehead tingled with foreboding

(9) Weeping, “Mir” went on his way like a destitute exile
At every step, he bemoaned the treatment he got from his own countrymen