Mir Taqi Mir
Eight asha’ar translated from the Urdu by Ranjit Hoskote
Translator’s preface: After years of translating two of the greatest Urdu poets, Mir Taqi Mir and Mirza Ghalib, I have come to accept that—except in rare cases—it is quite impossible to translate an entire ghazal. Each couplet is complete in itself, the ghazal linked by a strict rhyme scheme but not necessarily by an unfolding logic. The devices that endow the ghazal with its special aura in the Urdu oral tradition disappear on the printed English page. The rhyme or near-rhyme that prompts the listener to guess at or complete the next round—in an interactive process that fuses suspense, surprise, dismay and affirmation—is revealed on the page at a single glance. This takes away the delight of second-guessing the poet, silences the customary expression of applause: “Wah-wah!” English translations that attempt fidelity to the rhyming patterns of the original usually fail. Accordingly, I have chosen to work with the individual she’r (plural: asha’ar) or couplet that forms the ghazal’s basic unit.
I.
You’re a poet, don’t be silent, lives are lost under cover of silence.
Speak up, read a couple of lines, some verses, keep talking to us.
(Divan-e Panjum: V.1706.5)
II.
If you can’t keep quiet, at least try not to brag:
the candle gets beheaded if its wick is too loud.
(Divan-e Duvvum: II.977.3)
III.
Remember my words, you won’t hear them once I’m gone.
You’ll hear someone else read them, and keep beating your head.
(Divan-e Shashum: VI.1791.1)
IV.
Mr Mir isn’t quite wild with passion, but, how shall I say,
his balance has been thrown by a certain wildness.
(Divan-e Chahaarum: IV.1421.9)
V.
The heart is such a small house but how amazing
that the whole wide world manages to fit in it.
(Divan-e Suvvum: III.1252.4)
VI.
I died and still they pelted me with stones.
The tree of my mourning bore such fruit.
(Divan-e Duvvum: II.757.2)
VII.
This is imagination’s studio:
it shows only what you believe is true.
(Divan-e Avval: I.58.3)
VIII.
I’m lost, Mir, at my last breath, what on earth shall I do?
The heart has so much news, I have just this one breath.
(Divan-e Avval: I.236.7)