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A translation of this masterpiece by Sahir Ludhianvi, one of my favourite Urdu poets ever. Pardon a few poetic liberties:
The night is asplash with drizzle.
Dense clouds overcast.
The brave moon at half mast
Holds fort in the choppy skies.
If you come this way in this mizzle,
The tinkle of my anklets will open its eyes,
And find its lost sizzle.
Whom do I tell this?
How do I tell this?
What is the state of my heart today
My thoughts are in disarray.
There is some peace and bliss
but then only slight.
The pain may have gone away
But a dull ache I still do fight.
The dewdrops of love from your eyes dart
And quell the flames of my scorching heart,
Before my emotions begin to scatter.
As a blazing forest stands to gain
Doused by an incessant rain
Pitter patter pitter patter.
My senses may be in a daze
But my unconsciousness is not absolute.
The will to attain you is resolute.
Even if I end up lost in this maze
And even if the sky today is mostly grays….
And the dense clouds overcast.
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