This poem was translated by Professor Carlo Coppola as part of the MULOSIGE Translations project. You can explore our collection of Urdu Poetry here.
Merā pāgal pan / My Madness
Upon the walls of my madness
The sport of sounds, the dance of pictures
The laugh of silence
Entangled questions.
.
It’s not like this, but what if it were?
What if the moon were paper, the sky a stone?
What if there had been a solitary sun in the womb of this land?
Man was born, drowned in water, climbed the dry bough,
Burned in the fire of sin, died.
.
Why . . . . . . . ?
My madness, these useless words, illusive questions.
My madness, my faith, the refuge of my life.
My madness protects me from the tyranny of false gods, from the mercy of pious people.
Conceals my weaknesses from myself
.
Stops me from killing myself—my madness . . . . . . .
.
From: Dard kā shahr (City of Suffering). Lāhaur: Naʼī maṭbūʻāt. 1965. p. 46
Upon the walls of my madness
The sport of sounds, the dance of pictures
The laugh of silence
Entangled questions.
.
It’s not like this, but what if it were?
What if the moon were paper, the sky a stone?
What if there had been a solitary sun in the womb of this land?
Man was born, drowned in water, climbed the dry bough,
Burned in the fire of sin, died.
.
Why . . . . . . . ?
My madness, these useless words, illusive questions.
My madness, my faith, the refuge of my life.
My madness protects me from the tyranny of false gods, from the mercy of pious people.
Conceals my weaknesses from myself
.
Stops me from killing myself—my madness . . . . . . .
.
From: Dard kā shahr (City of Suffering). Lāhaur: Naʼī maṭbūʻāt. 1965. p. 46
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