Maine poochha chaand se
ke dekhaa hai kahee
Mere yaar sa haseė
Chaand ne kahaa,
chaandanee kee qasam
Naheė, Naheė, Naheė
Maine ye heezaab teraa ḍhoonḍha
har jagah shabaab teraa ḍhoonḍha
Kaliyȯ se misaal teree poochhee
phoolȯ ne javaab teraa ḍhoonḍha
Maine poochha baag se,
phalak ho ya zameen
aisaa phool hai kaheė
Baag ne kahaa har kalee kee qasam
Naheė, Naheė, Naheė
Chaal hai kee mauj kee ravaanee
Zulf hai kee raat kee kahaanee
Hȯth hai kee aayeene kavaal ke
Aȧkh hai ke maikadȯ kee raanee
Mainne poochha jaam se,
phalak ho yaa zameen
Aisee mai bhee hai kaheė
Jaam ne kahaa maikasheė kee qasam
Naheė, Naheė, Naheė
Khoobasooratee jo toone payee
luṭ gayee khuda kee bas khudaee
Meer ke gazal kahoȯ tujhe mȧi
yaa kahoȯ kheeyaam kee rubaaee
Mȧi jo poochhoȯ shaayarȯ se aisa dil naashee
koee sher hai kaheė
Shaayar kahe shaayaree kee qasam
Naheė, Naheė, Naheė
I asked the moon, whether it had seen anywhere, someone as beautiful as my beloved. The moon said: upon the moonbeam, no! No! No!
I looked for this modesty of yours, everywhere your youthfulness I searched. For the flower buds, I asked for your model, and among the flowers, I sought your answer. I asked the garden, whether, in the sky or the earth, such a flower exists. The garden said: by every flower bud, no! No! No!
Is this the gait or a wave in motion, is this the tress or a fable of the night? Are these the lips or a reflection of petals, are these the eyes or the queen of pubs? I asked the goblet, whether in the sky or the earth, does such wine exists, The goblet said: by the wine-bibing, no! No! No!
The beauty that you own, God’s divinity –in short – got looted, shall I call you Mir’s ode (song by the poet Mir) or address as Khayyam’s quatrain (Khayyam’s rubaiyat; 2-line stanzas of 2-parts each equaling 4). As I ask the poets, whether such an attractive, couplet anywhere exists. Poets say: by the verses, no! No! No!
Abdullah (1980); Mohammed Rafi
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