tin aawazen
zālim
jashn hai mātam-e-ummīd kā aao logo
marg-e-amboh kā tyauhār manāo logo
adam-ābād ko ābād kiyā hai maiñ ne
tum ko din raat se āzād kiyā hai maiñ ne
jalva-e-sub.h se kyā māñgte ho
bistar-e-ḳhvāb se kyā chāhte ho
saarī āñkhoñ ko tah-e-teġh kiyā hai maiñ ne
saare ḳhvāboñ kā galā ghūñT diyā hai maiñ ne
ab na lahkegī kisī shāḳh pe phūloñ kī hinā
fasl-e-gul aa.egī namrūd ke añgār liye
ab na barsāt meñ barsegī guhar kī barkhā
abr aa.egā ḳhas-o-ḳhār ke ambār liye
merā maslak bhī nayā rāh-e-tarīqat bhī na.ī
mere qānūñ bhī na.e merī sharī.at bhī na.ī
ab faqīhān-e-haram dast-e-sanam chūmeñge
sarv-qad miTTī ke baunoñ ke qadam chūmeñge
farsh par aaj dar-e-sidq-o-safā band huā
arsh par aaj har ik bāb-e-duā band huā
mazlūm
raat chhā.ī to har ik dard ke dhāre chhūTe
sub.h phūTī to har ik zaḳhm ke Tāñke TuuTe
dopahar aa.ī to har rag ne lahū barsāyā
din Dhalā ḳhauf kā ifrīt muqābil aayā
yā ḳhudā ye mirī gardān-e-shab-o-roz-o-sahar
ye mirī umr kā be-manzil o ārām safar
kyā yahī kuchh mirī qismat meñ likhā hai tū ne
har masarrat se mujhe aaq kiyā hai tū ne
vo ye kahte haiñ tū ḳhush-nūd har ik zulm se hai
vo ye kahte haiñ har ik zulm tire hukm se hai
gar ye sach hai to tire adl se inkār karūñ?
un kī mānūñ ki tirī zaat kā iqrār karūñ?
nidā-e-ġhaib
har ik ūlil-amr ko sadā do
ki apnī fard-e-amal sambhāle
uThegā jab jam-e-sarfaroshāñ
paḌeñge dār-o-rasan ke laale
koī na hogā ki jo bachā le
jazā sazā sab yahīñ pe hogī
yahīñ azaab o savāb hogā
yahīñ se uTThegā shor-e-mahshar
yahīñ pe roz-e-hisāb hogā
The Tyrant
This is the festival; we will inter hope
with appropriate mourning. Come, my people.
We will celebrate the massacre of the multitudes.
Come, my people.
I have caused the ghost city known as Limbo
to be inhabited. I have liberated you
from night and from day.
You desire something from dawn's first brushstrokes?
You make a wish on your bed of dreams?
I have decreed death to vision;
all eyes have been excised.
I have sent all dreams to the gibbet.
No bough will display its wealth of blossoms.
The spring that is near will not bring
the embers of Nimrod's fire.
This season's beads of rain will not shimmer
like pearl drops; its clouds
will cover you with dust and ashes.
Mine is the new religion, the new morality:
Mine are the new laws, and a new dogma.
From now on the priests in God's temple
will touch their lips to the hands of idols.
Proud men, tall as Cypress trees, will bend
to lick the dwarves' feet, and taste the clay:
On this day all over earth the door
of beneficent deeds is bolted.
Every gate of prayer throughout heaven
is slammed shut today.
The Slave
Night comes down; the fountain inside
every pain is released. Morning arrives;
the stitches of every wound unravel.
High noon blazes; all my veins begin to bleed.
Evening deepens; I come face to face
with the monster known as fear.
This is my declension, the chain of hours,
morning, noon, and night,
my miserable trudge from eternity to eternity:
Is it You, oh God of mine,
who have ordained this for me?
Is it You who have disinherited me
from every human pleasure?
Canon has it that every torture has Your sanction;
every atrocity is Your commandment.
You, the Just One-should I denounce Your Judgment?
Can I accept this canon;
can I believe that You exist?
zalim
jashn hai matam-e-ummid ka aao logo
marg-e-amboh ka tyauhaar manao logo
adam-abaad ko aabaad kiya hai main ne
tum ko din raat se aazad kiya hai main ne
jalwa-e-subh se kya mangte ho
bistar-e-KHwab se kya chahte ho
sari aankhon ko tah-e-tegh kiya hai main ne
sare KHwabon ka gala ghunT diya hai main ne
ab na lahkegi kisi shaKH pe phulon ki hina
fasl-e-gul aaegi namrud ke angar liye
ab na barsat mein barsegi guhar ki barkha
abr aaega KHas-o-KHar ke ambar liye
mera maslak bhi naya rah-e-tariqat bhi nai
mere qanun bhi nae meri shariat bhi nai
ab faqihan-e-haram dast-e-sanam chumenge
sarw-qad miTTi ke baunon ke qadam chumenge
farsh par aaj dar-e-sidq-o-safa band hua
arsh par aaj har ek bab-e-dua band hua
mazlum
raat chhai to har ek dard ke dhaare chhuTe
subh phuTi to har ek zaKHm ke Tanke TuTe
dopahar aai to har rag ne lahu barsaya
din Dhala KHauf ka ifrit muqabil aaya
ya KHuda ye meri gardan-e-shab-o-roz-o-sahar
ye meri umr ka be-manzil o aaram safar
kya yahi kuchh meri qismat mein likha hai tu ne
har masarrat se mujhe aaq kiya hai tu ne
wo ye kahte hain tu KHush-nud har ek zulm se hai
wo ye kahte hain har ek zulm tere hukm se hai
gar ye sach hai to tere adl se inkar karun?
un ki manun ki teri zat ka iqrar karun?
nida-e-ghaib
har ek ulil-amr ko sada do
ki apni fard-e-amal sambhaale
uThega jab jam-e-sarfaroshan
paDenge dar-o-rasan ke lale
koi na hoga ki jo bacha le
jaza saza sab yahin pe hogi
yahin azab o sawab hoga
yahin se uTThega shor-e-mahshar
yahin pe roz-e-hisab hoga
The Tyrant
This is the festival; we will inter hope
with appropriate mourning. Come, my people.
We will celebrate the massacre of the multitudes.
Come, my people.
I have caused the ghost city known as Limbo
to be inhabited. I have liberated you
from night and from day.
You desire something from dawn's first brushstrokes?
You make a wish on your bed of dreams?
I have decreed death to vision;
all eyes have been excised.
I have sent all dreams to the gibbet.
No bough will display its wealth of blossoms.
The spring that is near will not bring
the embers of Nimrod's fire.
This season's beads of rain will not shimmer
like pearl drops; its clouds
will cover you with dust and ashes.
Mine is the new religion, the new morality:
Mine are the new laws, and a new dogma.
From now on the priests in God's temple
will touch their lips to the hands of idols.
Proud men, tall as Cypress trees, will bend
to lick the dwarves' feet, and taste the clay:
On this day all over earth the door
of beneficent deeds is bolted.
Every gate of prayer throughout heaven
is slammed shut today.
The Slave
Night comes down; the fountain inside
every pain is released. Morning arrives;
the stitches of every wound unravel.
High noon blazes; all my veins begin to bleed.
Evening deepens; I come face to face
with the monster known as fear.
This is my declension, the chain of hours,
morning, noon, and night,
my miserable trudge from eternity to eternity:
Is it You, oh God of mine,
who have ordained this for me?
Is it You who have disinherited me
from every human pleasure?
Canon has it that every torture has Your sanction;
every atrocity is Your commandment.
You, the Just One-should I denounce Your Judgment?
Can I accept this canon;
can I believe that You exist?
- Book : Nuskha Hai Wafa (Kulliyat-e-Faiz) (Pg. 636)
- Publication : Educational Publishing House (2009)
- Edition : 2009
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