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

Ās̲ār-i inqilāb / Science of Revolution

The age bygone is even today showing its sign;

Even today smoke rises from the dust of the past;

Even today the sky rubs its eyes with the bottoms of its fleet;

Even today the Milky Way shows a mirror to the footprints;

Now the caravan of life passes thru such space

Where even Death’s tongue would come out;

The stage of temple and mosque is left behind;

Even in the melody of paradise is the burning of past memories;

On the forehead of Man’s determination is a reflection of the future system;

In the glance of today’s assembly is the disappointment of those left behind;

The faces of those on which shine silk and brocade

Are growing pale. 

The earth under one’s feet has begun to shift;

After a long while, the sky yawns;

Again, from the depths of the seas rises earthquakes;

Again, from the mountain’s heart comes the voice: “God protect us!”

In the fiery space from which even Doomsday often passed cautiously,

The life is soaring

As if the instrument of every drop of the heart were to tremble incessantly;

The speech of every particle of the eye has now increased; continuously

Again, the pain of life rises with sudden intensity;

According to the poet, the world is becoming young again.

The wind which spring used to open its smiling eyes 

Appears to be raising its eyebrows,

As if the curving waves would race into space;

Heaven’s bow continuously bends;

Let us see how long the sin of Adam would keep shining;

Let us see how long smoke will continue to rise from the blood of Man;

Already again, since evening, in the night-chamber of evil-doers,

The sinfulness of love today is tossing moonbeams and scattering rays of sun;

O simpleton, waking and sleeping the whole of life,

When will these overflowing days and nights rise?

Even now mornings smile with love’s delight;

Even now your love’s flame is the candle of the world’s niche;

If you think about it, this is the proof of life’s reality:

It is fancy within g fancy, doubt within doubt.

The hem of the heart has become the veil of Doomsday’s trumpet;

Now there are preparations to even conquer death.

The contract made with man at the beginning of time is being renewed;

Again, there are new successes and fresh sorrows;

The eyes of the sun, moon and Jupiter have suddenly opened

Just as the heavy dream of the heavenly regions ends.

Even today Man’s heart made of earth and blood

Is an old acquaintance of Yazid and Ehriman’s secrets;

All the spring gardens are dumbfounded

As if the prosperous beauty were in a deep thought;

Even drops of water have set fire to everything,

Even from dewy eyes sparks have shot forth;

Love has assumed elegance from our warmth; 

The beauty of idols has been wounded by our softness;

Again, the temper of love is about to change;

Again, the color of beloved is going to be changed;

O deception of union and separation! Goodbye!

Beauty has become a shadow, as has love;

Colorful reflections thrust themselves deep into the breasts;

The assembly of the world is adorned with mirrors;

The withered gardens have blossomed by from the melody of the poet; 

The flame’s tongue spouts nectar today.

O instrument of Nature, I am again mourning in the same melody

Whose sound disturbs the sleep of the dead.

These sighs and laments pierce even that space

Which cannot be found by the breeze of paradise garden.

After a long time, again today, Man sees

The dream of the future from which lightning shoots forth;

Revolution! Revolution! Revolution! Revolution!

The sudden cry on the tongue of every particle;

O Man, plant your banners on this crossroad;

The stage has come when even death is not there;

O Firaq, it is terrible for life to live;

O this limitless pain, this endless delight.

.
1943

.

From:  Rūḥ-i kāʼināt (Soul of the World). Gorakhpūr: Aivān-i Ishāʻat Ghar, 1945. pp. 162 – 67

             

The age bygone is even today showing its sign;

Even today smoke rises from the dust of the past;

Even today the sky rubs its eyes with the bottoms of its fleet;

Even today the Milky Way shows a mirror to the footprints;

Now the caravan of life passes thru such space

Where even Death’s tongue would come out;

The stage of temple and mosque is left behind;

Even in the melody of paradise is the burning of past memories;

On the forehead of Man’s determination is a reflection of the future system;

In the glance of today’s assembly is the disappointment of those left behind;

The faces of those on which shine silk and brocade

Are growing pale. 

The earth under one’s feet has begun to shift;

After a long while, the sky yawns;

Again, from the depths of the seas rises earthquakes;

Again, from the mountain’s heart comes the voice: “God protect us!”

In the fiery space from which even Doomsday often passed cautiously,

The life is soaring

As if the instrument of every drop of the heart were to tremble incessantly;

The speech of every particle of the eye has now increased; continuously

Again, the pain of life rises with sudden intensity;

According to the poet, the world is becoming young again.

The wind which spring used to open its smiling eyes 

Appears to be raising its eyebrows,

As if the curving waves would race into space;

Heaven’s bow continuously bends;

Let us see how long the sin of Adam would keep shining;

Let us see how long smoke will continue to rise from the blood of Man;

Already again, since evening, in the night-chamber of evil-doers,

The sinfulness of love today is tossing moonbeams and scattering rays of sun;

O simpleton, waking and sleeping the whole of life,

When will these overflowing days and nights rise?

Even now mornings smile with love’s delight;

Even now your love’s flame is the candle of the world’s niche;

If you think about it, this is the proof of life’s reality:

It is fancy within g fancy, doubt within doubt.

The hem of the heart has become the veil of Doomsday’s trumpet;

Now there are preparations to even conquer death.

The contract made with man at the beginning of time is being renewed;

Again, there are new successes and fresh sorrows;

The eyes of the sun, moon and Jupiter have suddenly opened

Just as the heavy dream of the heavenly regions ends.

Even today Man’s heart made of earth and blood

Is an old acquaintance of Yazid and Ehriman’s secrets;

All the spring gardens are dumbfounded

As if the prosperous beauty were in a deep thought;

Even drops of water have set fire to everything,

Even from dewy eyes sparks have shot forth;

Love has assumed elegance from our warmth; 

The beauty of idols has been wounded by our softness;

Again, the temper of love is about to change;

Again, the color of beloved is going to be changed;

O deception of union and separation! Goodbye!

Beauty has become a shadow, as has love;

Colorful reflections thrust themselves deep into the breasts;

The assembly of the world is adorned with mirrors;

The withered gardens have blossomed by from the melody of the poet; 

The flame’s tongue spouts nectar today.

O instrument of Nature, I am again mourning in the same melody

Whose sound disturbs the sleep of the dead.

These sighs and laments pierce even that space

Which cannot be found by the breeze of paradise garden.

After a long time, again today, Man sees

The dream of the future from which lightning shoots forth;

Revolution! Revolution! Revolution! Revolution!

The sudden cry on the tongue of every particle;

O Man, plant your banners on this crossroad;

The stage has come when even death is not there;

O Firaq, it is terrible for life to live;

O this limitless pain, this endless delight.

.
1943

.

From:  Rūḥ-i kāʼināt (Soul of the World). Gorakhpūr: Aivān-i Ishāʻat Ghar, 1945. pp. 162 – 67