saba viran
Interesting Fact
This Nazm employs Solomen and Sheba as metaphors. Solomen, or Sulaiman, was a king and prophet whoruled all over the world.
sulaimāñ sar-ba-zānū aur sabā vīrāñ
sabā vīrāñ, sabā aaseb kā maskan
sabā ālām kā ambār-e-be-pāyāñ!
gayāh o sabza o gul se jahāñ ḳhālī
havā.eñ tishna-e-bārāñ,
tuyūr is dasht ke minqār-e-zer-e-par
tū surma var gulū insāñ
sulaimāñ sar-ba-zānū aur sabā vīrāñ!
sulaimāñ sar-ba-zānū tursh-rū ġham-gīñ, pareshāñ-mū
jahāñ-girī, jahāñ-bānī faqat tarrāra-e-āhū
mohabbat shola-e-parāñ havas bū-e-gul be-bū
za-rāz-e-dahr kam-tar-go!
sabā vīrāñ ke ab tak is zamīñ par haiñ
kisī ayyār ke ġhārat-garoñ ke naqsh-e-pā baaqī
sabā bāqī, na mahru-e-sabā bāqī!
sulaimāñ sar-ba-zānū
ab kahāñ se qāsid-e-farḳhanda-pai aa.e?
kahāñ se, kis subū se kāsa-e-pīrī meñ mai aa.e?
Deserted Shebal
Solomon, head in his hands, and Sheba desolate
Sheba desolate, the home of ghosts
Sheba an abysmal laket of woes
World devoid of grass, greenery and flower
Winds thirsty for rains
Birds of the desert, beaks tucked beneath their wing
And Man, choked on dust
Solomon, head in his hands, bitterly dishevelled hair
World-dominion, world-administration, merely
the bounding of a deer
Love a leaping flame, lust the odour of odourless flowers
Speak less of the age's mysteries!
Sheba is wasted for still on her soil
Are footprints of a ravaging conqueror
Sheba is no more, nor her beautiful queen
Solomon, head in his hands:
From where now will come a joyful envoy?
From where, which jar, will come wine into
The bowl of old age?
sulaiman sar-ba-zanu aur saba viran
saba viran, saba aaseb ka maskan
saba aalam ka ambar-e-be-payan!
gayah o sabza o gul se jahan KHali
hawaen tishna-e-baran,
tuyur is dasht ke minqar-e-zer-e-par
tu surma war gulu insan
sulaiman sar-ba-zanu aur saba viran!
sulaiman sar-ba-zanu tursh-ru gham-gin, pareshan-mu
jahan-giri, jahan-bani faqat tarrara-e-ahu
mohabbat shola-e-paran hawas bu-e-gul be-bu
za-raaz-e-dahr kam-tar-go!
saba viran ke ab tak is zamin par hain
kisi ayyar ke ghaarat-garon ke naqsh-e-pa baqi
saba baqi, na mahru-e-saba baqi!
sulaiman sar-ba-zanu
ab kahan se qasid-e-farKHanda-pai aae?
kahan se, kis subu se kasa-e-piri mein mai aae?
Deserted Shebal
Solomon, head in his hands, and Sheba desolate
Sheba desolate, the home of ghosts
Sheba an abysmal laket of woes
World devoid of grass, greenery and flower
Winds thirsty for rains
Birds of the desert, beaks tucked beneath their wing
And Man, choked on dust
Solomon, head in his hands, bitterly dishevelled hair
World-dominion, world-administration, merely
the bounding of a deer
Love a leaping flame, lust the odour of odourless flowers
Speak less of the age's mysteries!
Sheba is wasted for still on her soil
Are footprints of a ravaging conqueror
Sheba is no more, nor her beautiful queen
Solomon, head in his hands:
From where now will come a joyful envoy?
From where, which jar, will come wine into
The bowl of old age?
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