This poem was translated by Professor Carlo Coppola as part of the MULOSIGE Translations project. You can explore our collection of Urdu Poetry here.
Pābandī / Bondage
My master has a grievance: Why should my truthfulness
Open secrets?
And, I ask: Why does your politics mix poison in art?
I will never become that pearl which is, day and night,
Raked up by the winds of the shore.
It also happens that the bird stands up against the storm;
If a drop spills on a blazing flame, even that drop will speaks.
.
April 1954
From: Dasht-i vafā (Desert of Fidelity), 2012. p. 44
My master has a grievance: Why should my truthfulness
Open secrets?
And, I ask: Why does your politics mix poison in art?
I will never become that pearl which is, day and night,
Raked up by the winds of the shore.
It also happens that the bird stands up against the storm;
If a drop spills on a blazing flame, even that drop will speaks.
.
April 1954
From: Dasht-i vafā (Desert of Fidelity), 2012. p. 44
Leave A Comment