"When A Person Meets Another"
Aadmi Aadmi-se milta hai
Dil magar kam kisi-se milta hai
Bhool jaataa hun mein sitam uske
Voh kuchh iss saadgi-se milta hai
Aaj kyaa baat hai ki phoolon ka
Rang teri hansi se milta hai
Mil ke bhi joh kabhi nahin miltaa
Toot kar il us-hi-se miltaa hai.
from his collection 'Jigar Muradabadi -Mohabbaton ka Shayar' compiled and edited by Nidaa Fazli.<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><!--[endif]--><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->
Translation (approximate):
A human being meets another
<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->But their hearts rarely meet
I keep forgetting her misdeeds
For she meets me with such simplicity
What's the matter today that flowers'
Colour seems to resemble your smile
She is the one who meets and yet doesn't
Despite heart-breaking it turns only to her.
Notes :
First stanza : the poets hints that one may have thousands of friends and yet hardly any who could be really intimate with him –thus it is a rarity to establish a deep relationship.
Second : Misdeeds is perhaps a lukewarm word, for there is no equivalent in English to denote the exact nuances of 'sitam' in Urdu that can mean, insults, ignominy, hard-heartedness, act of ignoring some, making someone suffer cruelly, affronts, amongst a million things that a woman in love may subject her male lover to.
Simplicity here also means something else, the poet tries to tell us, that she meets him fresh-faced and bushy-tailed the next time, so he prefers to forget old wounds and let hope overrule his good sense.
Third : 'What's the matter today?' here is not used as an insult or chiding but to express a pure sense of wonder, as if saying, 'how come you are surpassing yourself?' It's an exalted compliment. This couplet is simply too romantic for words.
Fourth : 'She's the one who meets and yet doesn't ' <!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->ies to denote her superficiality, even a shade of superciliousness when meeting him. Even if I meet her often, the real 'she' doesn't expose herself in words, deeds, acts or expression… this complaint is too profound for words and phrases for it carries within itself a world of pure agony, angst and anguish. The poet feels his entire life is wasted due to this obsessive pursuit that seems to result in yet more frustration. The last line tells us how addictive the whole process is.
Wish you all good luck ; I will surely comment on each entry.
We could then jointly vote to select the best attempt at transcreation.
No rules, no restrictions.
Just follow your heart;.
Have a good time!
Cheerz!
PS : You can post your transcreations in the 'Comments' here or if you wish, you can make a separate post but don't forget to send me a link if you wish to have comments.
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Comments: 20
I would have been happier if one of you tried your hand at 'transcreation' here.
The post here carries only a word-to-word translation, I am waiting for someone from you to assimilate the ideas and re-create a new poem out of this potent raw material.
Cheerz!
She asks me to wait
on a bed of nails.
Lost in love's wilderness,
I lie down to please.
My heart goes to meet hers-
poor thing, it shall not return.
Struck by the thunder of love,
drunk with the wine of passion,
intoxicated by the drug which is she,
I turn traitor to my soul-
her bed of nails I think a garden of roses
taunts I believe are smiles.
And her lover-
my shattered heart still believes it is I.
Three entries in one single evening is not bad at all....
lets wait for a day and then I will comment.
Keep it up poets! (Even non-poets are not doing badly either!)
Cheerz!
By M. Emmett Townsend
Do you remember . . .
I am so ashamed I had forgotten . . . shouldn't we all be?
What about Tiananmen Square, do you remember. . .
When one man alone stops a tank . . .
Do you remember . . .
I am so ashamed I had forgotten . . . shouldn't we all be?
The bodies of the Iraqi children in the ditch . . .
When the UN President was getting Rich . . .
Do you remember . . .
I am so ashamed I had forgotten . . . shouldn't we all be?
The burning ovens of the Holocaust . . .
When a terrorist is Praised by Nations when he says Israel must die . . .
Do you remember . . .
I am so ashamed I had forgotten . . . shouldn't we all be?
The burning of the Crosses on the lawn . . .
With Klu Klux Klansmen making laws in our Congress . . .
Do you remember . . .
I am so ashamed I had forgotten . . . shouldn't we all be?
When she was arrested for acting equal on the bus . . .
While we thought we were so free . . .
Do you remember . . .
I am so ashamed I had forgotten . . .
m. Emmett Townsend
Not perfect not ment to be not ment to ryme but ment to say something...
Thank you for the venu
My only suggestion is for "misdeeds" to be replaced with 'impiousness' since it implies the wily disrespect of this woman and can thus serve as a generic catchall for that set of behaviours you described that are covered in Urdu.
I love Jigari, I want to drink from the flowers' color until my face bends into a rictus of mysterious resolve!
I sit seeking a glance
while she lays down her glass
Deep red define her lip
setting the mark of her last sip
I wonder what to read
from the actions of her deed.
I wonder if the glass
can relay her life in a glance
Suddenly i get the might
to seek her sight
I look her in the eyes
and see the resedue of her cries
hidden was her emotion
vailed by he lips of devotion.
A person meets a person
But hardly do two hearts
How easily I forget the barbs
When she shows up in all simplicity
Today, her blooming smile
Strangely resembles a floral tinge
My heart throbs when she comes
Broken, yet turns to her in vain.
Lets take a look at the heart-warming attempts here :
Tan S. : your poem comes pretty close to what the poet Jigar intended to convey, very close indeed. My only woe is that it is a little too long, which dilutes its intended effect.
Two of your lines are hauntingly piercing :
'I turn a traitor to my soul' and ' taunts I believe are smiles...' -very dramatic, very potent.
Juniper my dear, you claim not being a poet and produce a whammy of a poem, which needs re-reading to peel layers of mystic aura around it. Your last two lines are as good as a sandfilled sock slammed on the back of the reader's head.
Do you know you came very close to the ghazal writing tradition which demands each couplet be a 'stand-alone' type and yet each couplet remain connected to all others, in a symbiotic relatiohship. Yours is a talent that needs sunning... so don't hide in the shadows!
Dear M. Emmet Townsend, your scintillating sparkling spark-generating poem has been hidden here amongst so many... you need to post it to every group listed in Gather... please fan the fire. I admire your frankness, forthrighteous views and the ability to call a spade a spade. You sound like a prophet. Please push this poem a little harder in every direction. Wish you good luck, I will do the same too.
John, your sensitivity seems to be flowering yet another time. I had indeed mentioned that I was unhappy with 'misdeeds' and your suggestion is worth its weight in gold. Thanks buddy!
Ahmad, your poem was a humdinger.
The content was so powerful I forgot to see the structure.
It has the same enchanting effect as a meticulously crafted ghazal which demands gruelling standards on metre, line and length, rhyme, and the classic two line couplets as mentioned above. Except a spelling error in it, the poem on the whole is a classic. Please continue writing, I am going to post some more challenges soon.
More later, Dolphi, hang on!
cheerz!
Loved the poem.
-I turn traitor to my soul-
her bed of nails I think a garden of roses
taunts I believe are smiles.
And her lover-
my shattered heart still believes it is I.
I think you could rephrase these five lines, shorten them and make them more pithy and potent, Tan.
Cheerz!
Here's my version.
cheers,
d.i.
nice work. i was listening to Abida Parveen's song by this name and ended up here. im maldivian and dunno much urdu/hindi. i do know a little bit, but i find urdu poetry so amazing that i search translations and try to understand the whole thing (i listen to nusrat,abida parveen,jagjit etc)..ok .. so to the point.. in this song the last part is different.. its like this:
rooh ko bhi mazaa muhabbat ka
dil ki humsaigi se milta hai
why is that? and can u translate this as well? please?
once again.this is really good stuff. keep it up. u wont believe i just registered here to make this comment.thank you thank you. keep up the good work. :D