The Night and the Poet (Iqbāl): a Translation from the Urdu Original

رات اور  شاعر

The Night and the Poet

رات

The Night

کيوں ميری چاندنی ميں پھرتا ہے تو پريشاں

خاموش صورتِ گل ، مانند بو پريشاں

تاروں کے موتيوں کا شايد ہے جوہری تو

مچھلی ہے کوئی ميرے دريائے نور کی تو

Why do you wander about in my moonlight, so perturbed,

silent as a rose, like a perfume diffused?

Maybe you are a jewel-merchant and the stars your pearls,

or a fish, in my river of light,

يا تو مری جبيں کا تارا گرا ہوا ہے

رفعت کو چھوڑ کر جو بستی ميں جا بسا ہے

خاموش ہو گيا ہے تار رباب ہستی

ہے ميرے آئنے ميں تصوير خواب ہستی

or a star, which, fallen from my forehead,

left the loftiness of its abode and now resides on earth;

silent are now the cords of creation’s lute,

and in my mirror is the image of nature sleeping

دريا کی تہ ميں چشم گرادب سو گئی ہے

ساحل سے لگ کے موج بے

 تاب سو گئی ہےبستی زميں کی کيسی ہنگامہ آفريں ہے

يوں سو گئی ہے جيسے آباد ہی نہيں ہے

At the bottom of the river, the eye of the vortex-springs has gone to sleep;

Sleeping are the restless waves, caressing the shore;

sleeping is the inhabited earth, with its noise and bustle,

as if deserted it were.

شاعر کا دل ہے ليکن ناآشنا سکوں سے

آزاد رہ گيا تو کيونکر مرے فسوں سے؟

Still, the poet’s heart, stillness does not know;

free from my spell how are you, still?

 شاعر

The Poet

ميں ترے چاند کی کھيتی ميں گہر بوتا ہو

ںچھپ کے انسانوں سے مانند سحر روتا ہو

ںدن کی شورش ميں نکلتے ہوئے گھبراتے ہيں

عزلت شب ميں مرے اشک ٹپک جاتے ہيں

I sow pearls in your moon’s fields,

hiding from men, I cry like the dawn;

I am scared going out into the hive of day;

in the seclusion of the night, I let my tears drip down.

مجھ ميں فرياد جو پنہاں ہے ، سناؤں کس کو

تپش شوق کا نظارہ دکھاؤں کس کو

برق ايمن مرے سينے پہ پڑی روتی ہے

ديکھنے والی ہے جو آنکھ ، کہاں سوتی ہے

Who would listen to this secret cry, buried in me?

To whom can I show my burning desire?

Fallen on my chest, Eman’s thunderbolt, cries;

That one eye that sees, is it sleeping somewhere?

صفت شمع لحد مردہ ہے محفل ميری

آہ، اے رات! بڑی دور ہے منزل ميری

عہد حاضر کی ہوا راس نہيں ہے اس کو

اپنے نقصان کا احساس نہيں ہے اس کا

Like a candle on a grave, dead are my fellow-beings;

oh night! So far is my destination;

against it blows the wind of our present time,

a time which does not feel its own loss.

ضبط پيغام محبت سے جو گھبراتا ہو

ںتيرے تابندہ ستاروں کو سنا جاتا ہوں

When I am too anguished to safeguard my message of love,

I tell it to your luminous stars.