This poem by Faiz, possibly his most lyrical, has been chosen as one of the fifty greatest modern Love Poems from the last fifty years. The entire list is here. These poems were chosen by global poetry specialists to be read at the Southbank Centre, London, on July 20th 2014 at the Royal Festival Hall.
Rang hai dil ka mere
by
Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Tum na aaye the to har ik cheez wohi thi ki jo hai
Aasmaan hadd-e-nazar, raahguzar- raahguzar, sheesha-e-mai- sheesha-e-mai
Aur ab sheesha-e-mai, raahguzar, rang-e-falak
Rang hai dil ka mere, “khoon-e-jigar hone tak”
Champaai rang kabhi, raahat-e-deedaar ka rang
Surmayi rang ki hai sa’at-e-bezaar ka rang
Zard patton ka, khas-o-khaar ka rang
Surkh phoolon ka, dehekte hue gulzaar ka rang
Zehar ka rang, lahu rang, shab-e-taar ka rang
Aasmaan, raahguzar, sheesha-e-mai
Koi bheegaa hua daaman, koi dukhti hui rag
Koi har lehzaa badaltaa hua aaina hai
Ab jo aaye ho to thehro ki koi rang, koi rut, koi shai
Ek jagah par thehre
Phir ik baar har ik cheez wohi ho ki jo hai
Aasmaan hadd-e-nazar, raahguzar-raahguzar, sheesha-e-mai- sheesha-e-mai
Moscow
August 1963
Here is Faiz himself, reciting his poem 'Rang hai dil ka mere'.
The colour of my heart
translated by
Mustansir Dalvi
When you weren't here,
all things were as they are:
the sky stretched as far as the eye can see
the road stayed a road,
a glass of wine, a glass of wine.
And now, the glass of wine and the road
are imbued with the colour of dusk-
the colour that is, of my heart, singed
with blood that pumps through it,
sometimes, turning purple,
straining with the relief of reunion,
or sometimes pale gray, the moment
of weariness, of self-loathing.
Leaves dried, yellowed,
prickly, like thistles, like hay.
Red blossoms igniting
the garden into inferno.
Venom, stained of the blood it shed.
The dead hue of night.
The sky, wet like a tear-stained vest,
the road, pulled like a throbbing vein,
the glass, disloyal, like a mirror
that changes reflections by the moment.
Now that you are here, stay.
Stay, so colours, seasons, so everything
comes to rest in one place. And once again,
let all things be as they are:
the sky stretched as far as the eye can see,
the road stay a road,
a glass of wine, a glass of wine.
Moscow
August 1963
Translation and Transliteration © Mustansir Dalvi, 2014, All rights reserved.