LOST in Translation

If you ever think of me

Poet

Amjad Islam Amjad

Pen Name

Amjad

Translation in Rhyme

In the gentle moon’s embrace, if thoughts of me should trace,
Look to a star that gleams afar, where dreams and wishes spar.

Should it ever break from high and land upon your feet,
Be assured it was my heart, a love discrete.

And if it doesn’t, but how can it possibly be
That you glance upon an object, and from shackles it doesn’t break free.

When thoughts of me arise anew, reach your hand in the breeze that blew,
You’ll find me there without a tease, in the fragrant whisper of the trees.

Seek me out in rose’s bloom, in morning’s light, a glistening plume,
In petals soft, in droplets true, my essence lingers there for you.

If in the stars, I can’t be traced, or morning dew, my presence graced,
In morning breeze, no gentle gust, look ‘neath your feet, you’ll find me in dust.

When flames aglow in fervent dance, know I, like moths took fate’s advance,
In sacrifice my spirit entwined, a dance of love, in fire confined.

Gather these moths, their flight now done, release them to the ocean’s run,
Where waves embrace, and currents free, they’ll find their final destiny.

As these remains upon the sea embark, with every wave and ebbing arc,
To an island new, they may arrive, there, in your wait, I will survive.

If fate guides you to that distant shore, on that island, do pause and explore,
In hopes our souls might chance to meet, where sea and land in beauty greet.

Translation in Prose

If ever you think of me, then in the soft, calming glow of a moonlit night, glance upon a star

If it happens to break free from the sky and fall upon your feet, then know that it was my heart

And if not, but how is it even possible that you glance upon an object and it’s very foundation isn’t shaken, it doesn’t forget its own existence

If ever you think of me, then put your hand in the blowing wind, you will find me in the scent of the breeze

Look for me in the petals of the roses, you’ll find me in the reflection of the morning dew

If you don’t find me in the stars, in the morning dew, in the scent of the morning breeze, then look beneath your feet, you will find me in the underlying dust

If you see a glowing flame, then know that along with the countless moths I too have been sacrificed

Do pick up the remains of these moths and shed them into the sea

I will transform into these remains and travel the sea, landing upon an unknown island, will cry out for you

If you embark on a voyage of the sea, do stop a while on that island

Transliteration

agar kabhī merī yād aye, tho chānd rāthoṇ kī narm dilgīr roshnī mein kisī sithare ko dekh lenā

agar vo nakhl-e-falaq se uṯ kar thumhāre qadmoṇ meiṇ ā gire tho ye jān lenā vo merā dil tha

agar nā aye magar ye mumkin hi kis tharhaṇ hai ke thum kisi pe nigah dalo aur us ki dīvwar-e-jaṇ na t[ute, vo apnī hastī na bhūl jaye

agar kabhī merī yād aye, tho gurez kartī hawā kī lehroṇ pe hath rakhnā, meiṇ khushbūoṇ mein thumheṇ milūṇ gā

mujhe gulāboṇ kī pathīyoṇ mein thalāsh karna, mein aus qathroṇ ke aīnoṇ mein thumheṇ milūṇ gā

agar sitharoṇ mein, aus qathroṇ mein, khushbūoṇ mein na pāo mujhko tho apne qadmoṇ mein dekh lenā, mein khāk hotī musafathoṇ mein thumheṇ miluṇ gā

kahiṇ pe roshan charagh dekho tho soch lenā ke har pathangay ke sath meiṇ bhi bikhar chuka huṇ

thum apne hathoṇ se un pathangoṇ kī khāk dariyā meiṇ dāl denā

mein khāk ban kar samundaroṇ mein safar karūṇ gā

kisī nā dekhe huye jazīre pe ruk ke thum ko sadaeṇ dūn gā

samundaroṇ ke safar pe niklo tho us jazīre pe bhī utharnā

I am no longer worthy

Poet

Mirza Ghalib

Pen Name(s)

Asad, Ghalib 

Translation in Rhyme

No more can I in love’s sweet fire, confide,
That cherished heart, once beaming, now denied.

I leave, scars of a regretful life, a heavy loan,
A fading lamp, in crowds, I can’t be shown.

Seek, oh heart, another path to end this breath,
No more worth the trouble of my killer’s cruel death.

Desire has unveiled beauty’s hidden face,
No barrier remains, save for love’s own grace.

Though life’s cruel burdens on my shoulders weigh,
Never once did I forget you, come night or day.

The heart, once filled with deeds, now void within,
All I gained was longing’s constant spin.

Oh Asad, love’s injustices don’t shake my steady grasp,
But alas, that proud heart, now slipped from my clasp.

Translation in Prose

I am no longer worthy of expressing my desire for love
That graceful heart I was so proud of, I no longer possess

I depart carrying the scars1 of life’s regrets
I am an extinguishing lamp, unsuitable for being lit in the assembly

Oh heart, find some alternate means for death
I am no longer worthy of the trouble that my killer’s strike takes

Desire has cut asunder the veils of beauty
Aside from the glance itself, there remains no hindrance

Though I remain burdened by the cruelties of life
Not once did I ever neglect to keep you in my thoughts

The heart became devoid of the breeze of performance for therein
I attained nothing other than the desire for attainment

Oh Asad, I am not afraid of injustices of love but alas
That graceful heart I was so proud of, I no longer possess

Transliteration

arz-e-niyāz-e-ishq ke qābil nahīṇ rahā
jis dil pe nāz thā mujhe vo dil nahīṇ rahā

jāṭā huṇ dāgh-e-hasrat-e-hastī liye hue
hūṇ sham-e-kushtā dar-{khur-e-mehfil nahīṇ rahā

marne kī ai dil aur hī tadbīr kar ki maiṇ
shayān-e-dast-o-bāzū-e-qātil nahīṇ rahā

vā kar diye haiṇ shauq ne band-e-naqāb-e-husn
ghair-az-nigāh ab koī hā-il nahīṇ rahā

go maiṇ rahā rahīn-e-sitam-hā-e-rozgār
lekin tire khayāl se ghāfil nahīṇ rahā

dil se havā-e-kisht-e-vafā mit ga.ī ke vāṇ
hāsil sivā-e-hasrat-e-hāsil nahīṇ rahā

bedād-e-ishq se nahīṇ dartā magar Asad
jis dil pe nāz thā mujhe vo dil nahīṇ rahā

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  • Wanderer on If you ever think of me: “Wow, beautiful poetry. Amazing imagination by the poet expressed through beautiful words.Oct 23, 00:17
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