Ghazal 156, Verse 2x

{156,2x}

naalah ;xuunii;N varaq-o-dil gul-e ma.zmuun-e shafaq
chaman-aaraa-e nafas va;hshat-e tanhaa))ii hai

1a) the lament, a bloody page/'leaf'; and the heart, a rose of the theme of sunset/fear/affection
1b) a bloody page/'leaf', the lament; and a rose of the theme of sunset/fear/affection, the heart

2a) the garden-adorner of the breath is the wildness of solitude
2b) the wildness of solitude is the garden-adorner of the breath

Notes:

varaq : 'Leaf (of a tree, or of a book, or of silver or gold, &c.); silver-leaf, gold-leaf; page (of a book)'. (Platts p.1188)

 

shafaq : 'Fear; — affection, kindness, &c. (= shafaqat ); — the redness of the sky between sunset and nightfall, evening twilight'. (Platts p.729

 

va;hshat : 'A desert, solitude, dreary place; — loneliness, solitariness, dreariness; — sadness, grief, care; — wildness, fierceness, ferocity, savageness; barbarity, barbarism; — timidity, fear, fright, dread, terror, horror; — distraction, madness'. (Platts p.1183)

Zamin:

varaq is the page of a book, and the leaf of a tree. Here, through the wordplay with 'garden', the second meaning is suitable; and through the wordplay with the 'rose of the theme', the first meaning. The point is that the wildness of solitude has turned the heart to blood-- thus the complaint emerges bloodstained, and the heart too is bloody (sunset-colored).

== Zamin, p. 431

Gyan Chand:

The wildness of solitude has made the breath a garden. The lament is of the color of blood, and the heart is the flower of the theme of sunset-- that is, the heart is filled with colorfulnesses. The wildness of solitude has molded the whole being in the style of a garden.

== Gyan Chand, p. 442

FWP:

SETS == DOUBLE ACTIVATION; POETRY; SYMMETRY; WORDPLAY

For background see S. R. Faruqi's choices. This verse is NOT one of his choices; I thought it was interesting and have added it myself. For more on Ghalib's unpublished verses, see the discussion in {4,8x}.

The verse offers something close to the maximum possible amount of 'symmetry': the first line has the verb-less form 'A, B and C, D' (which of course can also be read as ('B, A and D, C'), while the second line consists of 'A is B' (which of course can also be read as 'B is A'). This structure makes the verse feel vague and diffuse-- since it contains no action, and even its equational assertions are un-pin-downable-- but also, for the same reasons, full of mood.

The 'mood' is also created by a broad structural pattern involving two sets of imagery: garden-related words, and poetry-related words. They converge on the word varaq in particular, so that it becomes doubly activated. Zamin makes the point exactly: ' varaq is the page of a book, and the leaf of a tree. Here, through the wordplay with 'garden', the second meaning is suitable; and through the wordplay with the 'rose of the theme', the first meaning.' For other such tours de force, see {120,3}.

And when it comes to imagery, there's also an encompassing redness-- of blood, of the rose, of the sunset. But shafaq too is multivalent-- it can mean not just the redness of sunset, but also both 'fear' and 'affection' (see the definition above). In the sense of 'fear' it also resonates with va;hshat (see the definition above)-- which can refer to a bleak terrain that is itself the opposite of the 'garden'. And the 'breath' resonates with the 'lament', and with the idea of (oral) poetry-composition ('page', 'theme').

In short, the verse is static and unresolvable-- but it lives within its own great cloud of evocatively melancholy 'mood'.

Compare {156,3x}, which also links 'garden-adornment' to the 'breath'.

On the nature of nafas , see {15,6}.