This poem was translated by Professor Carlo Coppola as part of the MULOSIGE Translations project. You can explore our collection of Urdu Poetry here.
Tamāshah / Spectacle
It’s New Year’s celebration; streets are decorated,
The city glitters with light
The crowd is like a wave of the sea
Or a verdant field swaying.
Here, the beauties walk with such a charm
That one feels the pleasure of strong wine;
There, staggering in a drunken state,
Goes a band of tipplers.
To be sure, there is prohibition,
But is the police superintendent one’s God?
There, one sound echoes in the street:
“O drinkers, it is God who gives you drink!”
Every drain has become a hoarding place;
Filth from drains used to make drink.
Everywhere there is a line of saqis;
This is an age of country-made wine;
Who is it that touches foreign liquor?
The custom of the earthen cup has become common;
The blood of martyrs is bringing results.
Today the disobedient are prospering;
Every man of honor has to bear whims of those disobedients;
Every shroud thief sings the praises
Of the statesmanship of the reformer;
Vagrants have abandoned the roads;
The police officer fights shy of them;
People say he is in league with them;
But who has the knowledge of the unknown?
Who is it who smiles alluringly, sitting this spectacle?
.
October 1956
From: Yāden̲ (Remembrances), 1963. pp. 211 – 12
It’s New Year’s celebration; streets are decorated,
The city glitters with light
The crowd is like a wave of the sea
Or a verdant field swaying.
Here, the beauties walk with such a charm
That one feels the pleasure of strong wine;
There, staggering in a drunken state,
Goes a band of tipplers.
To be sure, there is prohibition,
But is the police superintendent one’s God?
There, one sound echoes in the street:
“O drinkers, it is God who gives you drink!”
Every drain has become a hoarding place;
Filth from drains used to make drink.
Everywhere there is a line of saqis;
This is an age of country-made wine;
Who is it that touches foreign liquor?
The custom of the earthen cup has become common;
The blood of martyrs is bringing results.
Today the disobedient are prospering;
Every man of honor has to bear whims of those disobedients;
Every shroud thief sings the praises
Of the statesmanship of the reformer;
Vagrants have abandoned the roads;
The police officer fights shy of them;
People say he is in league with them;
But who has the knowledge of the unknown?
Who is it who smiles alluringly, sitting this spectacle?
.
October 1956
From: Yāden̲ (Remembrances), 1963. pp. 211 – 12
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