S. R. Faruqi:

āge = formerly
yak-laḳht = entirely

The rosiness and redness of the beloved's face make the surrounding air colorful as well. This refined theme, Mir has expressed several times. From the third divan [{1266,5}]:

rang letī hai sab havā us kā
us se bāġh-o-bahār haiñ raste

[the whole breeze/air takes her color
by means of her, the garden and the spring are roads]

For more verses, see

{24,2}.

But in the present verse he has widened the theme, and has also created certain new aspects.

The first is the pleasure of ambiguity: having blown into the air the beloved's whole 'color', whose heart has the breeze turned to blood-- the lover's, or its own? Because in the line he has said only that 'the breeze kept turning the heart to blood'. It's possible that the breeze kept turning its very own heart to blood. The breeze's becoming colorful can be a proof of its heart turning to blood. Or again, the breeze's heart might have turned to blood in grief that even if it would try a thousand times, it cannot attain a color like the beloved's.

There remains the lover, whose heart was turning to blood because the breeze blew away the beloved's color, but none of it fell to the share of the lover himself.

In the second line, there's a reference to the later situation. Now the beloved has applied henna. Having seen that, the liver of the lover (or the breeze) becomes even more dejected, that he/it has no access to all this beauty. And the affinity between the blood of both heart and liver, and the red color, is obvious.

The word afsurdah too is fine, because its original meaning is 'extinguished'. This meaning too has an affinity with the heart and liver. Then, in both heart and liver is the burning of the flame of passion; in this regard too the affinity is even greater.

It's also possible that she might have taken the blood of the liver and used it as henna on her hands and feet; for this reason too there's an affinity with the liver's afsurdagī . Among 'fragment' and 'heart' and 'liver' there's the connection of a zila.

If we don't assume an izafat to be between rang and ḥināʾī , then the interpretation of ḥināʾī becomes 'red color'; the idea then is that because of her red attire, the beloved's body seems to be henna-colored. It's possible that this red attire might be a bridal outfit, and the cause of the liver's dejection would be that the beloved is becoming someone else's. It's a very fine verse.

[See also {1354,3}, and {1373,1}.]

FWP:

SETS
MOTIFS == LIVER
NAMES
TERMS == AFFINITY

The progression from the heart (the blood-expender) in the first line to the liver (the blood-maker) in the second line is also part of classic ghazal tradition. And yak-laḳht in its literal meaning of 'one fragment' too works well, since in the ghazal world the liver is so often torn to pieces.

Then, the single fragment to which the liver is reduced forms a piquant contrast to the head-to-foot 'whole body' [sarāpā] of the rosy, bloodthirsty, henna-applying beloved.

On henna, see G{18,4}.