This poem was translated by Professor Carlo Coppola as part of the MULOSIGE Translations project. You can explore our collection of Urdu Poetry here.

Professor Carlo Coppola, Oakland University

Nahrū / Nehru

A thousand colours met in the passing of the cup;

Time put on a thousand covers, then threw them off;

But that sandalwood-and-roses dust, a handful of spring,

Is wandering in Paradise Valley.

Life’s arrows spring from the hand of Eternity.

That captive of the six directions,

Turning into a quest, has gone far away.

.

From: Bisāt̤-i raqṣ (Dance Carpet). Ḥaidarābād, Inḍiyā: Istiqbāliyah kameṭī jashn-i Mak̲h̲dūm, 1966. p. 222

             

A thousand colours met in the passing of the cup;

Time put on a thousand covers, then threw them off;

But that sandalwood-and-roses dust, a handful of spring,

Is wandering in Paradise Valley.

Life’s arrows spring from the hand of Eternity.

That captive of the six directions,

Turning into a quest, has gone far away.

.

From: Bisāt̤-i raqṣ (Dance Carpet). Ḥaidarābād, Inḍiyā: Istiqbāliyah kameṭī jashn-i Mak̲h̲dūm, 1966. p. 222