Subh-e-aazaadi
by
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Yeh daagh daagh ujaalaa, yeh shab gazidaa seher
Woh intezaar tha jiska, yeh woh seher to nahin
Yeh woh seher to nahin, jis ki aarzoo lekar
Chale the yaar ki mil jaayegi kahin na kahin
Falak ke dasht mein taaron ki aakhri manzil
Kahin to hogaa shab-e-sust mauj ka saahil
Kahin to jaa ke rukegaa safinaa-e-gham-e-dil
Jawaan lahu ki pur-asraar shahraahon se
Chale jo yaar to daaman pe kitne haath pade
Dayaar-e-husn ki besabr kwaabgaahon se
Pukaarti rahi baahein, badan bulaate rahe
Bahut aziz thi lekin rukh-e-seher ki lagan
Bahut qareen tha haseenaa-e-noor ka daaman
Subuk subuk thi tamanna, dabi dabi thi thakan
Suna hai, ho bhi chukaa hai firaaq-e-zulmat-o-noor
Suna hai, ho bhi chukaa hai wisaal-e-manzil-o-gaam
Badal chukaa hai bahut ehl-e-dard ka dastoor
Nishaat-e-wasl halaal, o azaab-e-hijr haraam
Jigar ki aag, nazar ki umang, dil ki jalan
Kisi pe chaaraa-e-hijraan ka kuch asar hi nahin
Kahaan se aayi nigaar-e-sabaa, kidhar ko gayi
Abhi charaag-e-sar-e-raah ko kuch khabar hi nahin
Abhi garaani-e-shab mein kami nahin aayi
Najaat-e-deedaa-o-dil ki ghadi nahin aayi
Chale chalo ki woh manzil abhi nahin aayi
15th August 1947
The dawn of freedom
translated by
Mustansir Dalvi
This stained, pitted first-light,
this day-break, battered by night,
this dawn that we all ached for,
this is not that one.
Sure in the belief
that we would, eventually,
reach the last station of the stars
somewhere in the sky’s arid plains,
sure that night’s sluggish wave
would eventually make beach-head,
sure that the ship of our sorrows
would find land, somewhere,
our yearnings drove us all on.
But this, is not that dawn.
Down mystifying highways
that only the young can take,
together we made our way, only
to be accosted a thousand times,
while, from Beauty’s nocturnal domain,
from her impatient bedchambers,
hands beckoned, reached out for us,
bodies craved our presence.
But more enticing by far was the pull
of dawn’s demeanor. How close were we,
close enough to touch the hems
of the maidens of light,
how delicate were our desires,
how restrained our exhaustion.
We have heard that the darkness
has already separated from the light.
We have heard that the weary footstep
has already found its way home,
that the lot of the anguished multitudes
has changed, very substantially,
that the rapture of union is celebrated lawfully,
the pains of separation, completely proscribed.
The antidote of severance
has had no effect on the burning heart,
on the longing of the waiting gaze,
on fires raging in the gut.
From whence did this zephyr
manifest itself, where did it zip past?
Even the lamps lining our streets
are hard pressed to know.
There has been no easing
of the full weight of night.
Parched eyes, aching hearts are yet
to find their moment of deliverance.
Walk on,
walk on,
walk on,
the home we seek has still to arrive.
15th August 1947
Translation and Transliteration © Mustansir Dalvi, 2014, All rights reserved.
