kabhiay

kabhī ai ḥaqīqat-e muntaz̤ar naz̤ar ā libās-e majāz meñ
kih hazāroñ sijde taṛap rahe haiñ mirī jabīn-e niyāz meñ

1) sometime, oh awaited Reality, come into view in the dress of contingency
2) for all the thousands of prostrations are writhing in my forehead of humility

= The wild 'theologically incorrect' brashness of this verse is irresistible. In effect, the speaker is trying to cut a deal with God over what God claims as his rightful due already.
= Not just hazār , but hazāroñ -- like do versus donoñ -- implying that the speaker has never done any at all.
= Wordplay (involving both sound and meaning) of muntaz̤ir and naz̤ar ; and of the invocation of the powerful traditional opposition of ḥaqīqat vs. majāz .
= Check out all the meanings of niyāz , Platts p. 1164.

t̤arab-āshnā-e ḳharosh ho tū navā hai maḥram-e gosh ho
vuh sarod kyā kih chhupā huʾā ho sukūt-e pardah-e sāz meñ

1) become joy-acquainted with clamor; you are a voice, become an intimate of the ear
2) what [kind of] song/sarod is it that would be hidden in the silence of the curtain/tone/fret of an instrument?

= 'joy-acquainted' is literal; the expression may look strange, but no stranger than lots of things in modern English poetry.
= 'What kind of sarod is it', or 'as if it's a sarod at all!'.
= Check out all the meanings of pardah , Platts p. 246.
= The addressee could be God (as in v. 1) or a human (as in v. 3).

tū bachā bachā ke nah rakh use tirā āʾinah hai vuh āʾinah
kih shikastah ho to ʿazīz-tar hai nigāh-e āʾinah-sāz meñ

1) don't you carefully keep it safe-- your mirror is that mirror
2) that if it would be broken, then it is dearer in the sight of the mirror-maker

= The 'mirror of the heart' goes far back in Persian ghazal tradition. Traditionally it's a metal mirror that can be either brightly polished or dimmed by rust and dust; here, however, it's a newfangled glass mirror that, like a heart, can be broken.

dam-e t̤auf kirmak-e shamʿa ne yih kahā kih vuh aṡar-e kuhan
nah tirī ḥikāyat-e soz meñ nah mirī ḥadīṡ-e gudāz meñ

1) at the moment of circumambulation the Moth/'candle-insect' said this: that 'That old effect
2) is neither in your tale of burning, nor in my story of melting'

= A kirmak , literally a 'worm', can also be a small insect, thus a Moth too as it obviously is here.
= But of course, if he says it while going around the candle (and thus preparing to hurl himself into it), how true can his words be taken to be? Or is he saying it as he hesitates, and considers not hurling himself in?
= The loss of effect that he complains of is a literary one: it concerns narrative problems, not physical ones.

nah kahīñ jahāñ meñ amāñ milī jo amāñ milī to kahāñ milī
mire jurm-e ḳhānah-ḳharāb ko tire ʿafv-e bandah-navāz meñ

1) nowhere in the world was peace available; if peace was available, then how/'where' was it available--
2) to my house-wrecking sin, in your servant-cherishing forgiveness?!

= The first line is a tour de force of resonant sound effects.
= The irresistible force meets the immovable object: the speaker's power to sin, urgent and devastating as it is, is hounded everywhere by God's equally perpetual and indefatigable mercy.

nah vuh ʿishq meñ rahīñ garmiyāñ nah vuh ḥusn meñ rahīñ shoḳhiyāñ
nah vuh ġhaznavī meñ taṛap rahī nah vuh ḳham hai zulf-e ayāz meñ

1) neither did those fervors remain in passion, nor did those mischievousnesses remain in beauty
2) neither did that writhing remain in the Ghaznavi, nor is there that curl in the locks of Ayaz

= Four negations, four losses, obviously connected-- but exactly how? are they parallel, or do the changes in the second line cause the changes in the first line?
= In Iqbal's ghazal tradition, Mahmud Ghaznavi (r.998-1030) had a beautiful slave boy, Ayaz, with whom he shared a strong mutual love; Iqbal seems to invoke this pair of lovers more than many ghazal poets do.

jo maiñ sar bah sijdah huʾā kabhī to zamīñ se āne lagī ṣadā
terā dil to hai ṣanam-āshnā tujhe kyā milegā namāz meñ

1) when sometime I put my head down in prostration, then from the ground a voice began to come,
2) 'Your heart is acquainted with idols-- what will you get from namaz?'

= This final verse elegantly reminds us of v. 1.
= The beloved in the ghazal world is often called an 'idol', both for her beauty and the worship the lover accords her, and for her rivalry with the real God.
= The question in the second line could be admonitory ('God can see that your heart isn't in it') or merely impatient ('You're already friends with idols, so what more do you need?').