When you did not come, everything was what it was:

The sky was the frontier of sight; the path, a path; the wine cup, a wine cup;

And now the wine cup, the path, the sky’s colour are

The colour of my heart ‘about to turn into the blood of the heart—

Yellow sometimes at the joy of seeing you;

At times grey for insipid moments;

Brown for autumn leaves, thorns, dry grass;

Crimson for flowers and gardens aflame—

Poison’s colour, blood’s colour, the colour of night.

And the sky, the path, the wine cup—

A garment wet with tears; a throbbing vein;

A mirror ever turning.

.

Now that you have come, stay so that some colour, some season, something

Might stay in one place,

So that everything might be once more what it is:

The sky, the frontier of sight; the path, a path; the wine cup, a wine cup.

.
      Moscow  ∙  August 1963

.

From: Dast-i tah-yi sang (Hand Beneath the Stone). Dihlī: ʻAlīgaṛh: Ejūkeshanal Buk Hāʼūs, 1979. pp. 67 – 68

Rang hai dil kā mire is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970