manzar
rah-guzar, saa.e, shajar, manzil-o-dar, halqa-e-bām
baam par sīna-e-mahtāb khulā, āhista
jis tarah khole koī band-e-qabā, āhista
halqa-e-bām tale, sāyoñ kā Thahrā huā niil
niil kī jhiil
jhiil meñ chupke se tairā, kisī patte kā habāb
ek pal tairā, chalā, phuuT gayā, āhista
bahut āhista, bahut halkā, ḳhunuk-rañg sharāb
mere shīshe meñ Dhalā, āhista
shīsha-o-jām, surāhī, tire hāthoñ ke gulāb
jis tarah duur kisī ḳhvāb kā naqsh
aap hī aap banā aur miTā āhista
Vista
dil ne dohrāyā koī harf-e-vafā, āhista
tum ne kahā, ''āhista''
chāñd ne jhuk ke kahā
''aur zarā āhista''
Deserted street, shadows of trees and houses, locked doors
We watched the moon become a woman,
baring her breast, softly, on the edge of a rooftop.
Below the earth was blue, a lake of stilled shadows,
on which a leaf, the bubble of a second, floated
and then burst, softly.
Pale, very pale, gently, very slowly,
wine that is cold color
was poured into my glass,
and the roses of your hands, the decanter and the glass,
were, like the outline
of a dream, in focus, for a moment.
Then they melted, softly.
My heart once again promised love, softly.
You said, “But softly.
The moon, breathing as it went down, said,
More, yet more softly.
rah-guzar, sae, shajar, manzil-o-dar, halqa-e-baam
baam par sina-e-mahtab khula, aahista
jis tarah khole koi band-e-qaba, aahista
halqa-e-baam tale, sayon ka Thahra hua nil
nil ki jhil
jhil mein chupke se taira, kisi patte ka habab
ek pal taira, chala, phuT gaya, aahista
bahut aahista, bahut halka, KHunuk-rang sharab
mere shishe mein Dhala, aahista
shisha-o-jam, surahi, tere hathon ke gulab
jis tarah dur kisi KHwab ka naqsh
aap hi aap bana aur miTa aahista
Vista
dil ne dohraya koi harf-e-wafa, aahista
tum ne kaha, aahista
chand ne jhuk ke kaha
aur zara aahista
Deserted street, shadows of trees and houses, locked doors
We watched the moon become a woman,
baring her breast, softly, on the edge of a rooftop.
Below the earth was blue, a lake of stilled shadows,
on which a leaf, the bubble of a second, floated
and then burst, softly.
Pale, very pale, gently, very slowly,
wine that is cold color
was poured into my glass,
and the roses of your hands, the decanter and the glass,
were, like the outline
of a dream, in focus, for a moment.
Then they melted, softly.
My heart once again promised love, softly.
You said, “But softly.
The moon, breathing as it went down, said,
More, yet more softly.
Source:
Nuskha Hai Wafa (Pg. 373)
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