The Eager Traveler
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Even in the torture chamber, I was the lucky one;
When each lottery was over, unaccountably I had won.

And even the mightiest rivers found accessible refuge in me;
Though I was called an arid desert, I turned out to be the sea.

And how sweetly I remember you, oh, my wild, delectable love—
Like the purest white blossoms, on talented branches above.

And while I’m half-convinced that folks adore me in this town,
Still, all the hands I kissed held knives and tried to shake me down.

You lost the battle, my coward friend, my craven enemy,
When, to victimize my lonely soul, you sent a despoiling army.

Lost in the wastelands of vast love, I was an eager traveler,
Like a breeze in search of your fragrance, a vagabond explorer.

Published in the anthology Eastern Promise



I Cannot Remember
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I once was a poet too (you gave life to my words), but now I cannot remember
Since I have forgotten you (my love!), my art too I cannot remember

Yesterday consulting my heart, I learned
that your hair, lips, mouth, I cannot remember

In the city of the intellect insanity is silence
But now your sweet, spontaneous voice, its fluidity, I cannot remember

Once I was unfamiliar with wrecking ***** and ruins
But now the cultivation of gardens, I cannot remember

Now everyone shops at the store selling arrows and quivers
But neglects his own body, the client he cannot remember

Since time has brought me to a desert of such arid forgetfulness
Even your name may perish; I cannot remember

In this narrow state of being, lacking a country,
even the abandonment of my fellow countrymen, I cannot remember



Ranjish hi Sahi ("If it means Grief, so be it")
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Come, even with anguish, even to torture my heart;
Come, even if only to abandon me to torment again.

Come, if not for our past commerce,
Then to faithfully fulfill the ancient barbaric rituals.

Who else can recite the reasons for our separation?
Come, despite your reluctance, to continue the litanies, the ceremony.

Respect, even if only a little, the depth of my love for you;
Come, someday, to offer me consolation as well.

Too long you have deprived me of the pathos of longing;
Come again, my love, if only to make me weep.

Till now, my heart still suffers some slight expectation;
So come, ***** out even the last flickering torch of hope!



No Explanation! (I)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Please don't ask me how deeply it hurt!
Her sun shone so bright, even the shadows were burning!



No Explanation! (II)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Please don't ask me how it happened!
She didn't bind me, nor did I free myself.



Alone
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Why are you sad that she goes on alone, Faraz?
After all, you said yourself that she was unique!



Separation
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Faraz, if it were easy to be apart,
would Angels have to separate body from soul?



Time
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

What if my face has more wrinkles than yours?
I am merely well-worn by Time!



Ahmad Faraz [1931-2008], born Syed Ahmad Shah, was a Pakistani poet generally considered to be one of the greatest modern Urdu poets. Faraz was a poet accessible to ordinary readers due to his “fine but simple style of writing.” Ethnically a Hindkowan, he studied Persian and Urdu at Edwards College, then at Peshawar University, where he became a lecturer after receiving his Masters. During his time in college, Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Ali Sardar Jafri impressed him and became influences on his own work. Faraz was born in Kohat, Pakistan to Syed Muhammad Shah Barq. In an interview he recalled how his father once bought clothes for him and his brother on Eid. He didn't like the clothes meant for him, preferring the ones given to his elder brother. This lead him to write his first couplet:

Laye hain sab ke liye kapre sale se (He brought clothes for everybody from the sale)
Laye hain hamare liye kambal jail se (For me he brought a blanket from jail)

Faraz was an outspoken critic of Pakistan’s military dictatorship, saying, “My conscience will not forgive me if I remain a silent spectator of the sad happenings around us. The least I can do is to let the dictatorship know where it stands in the eyes of the concerned citizens whose fundamental rights have been usurped. I ... refuse to associate myself in any way with the regime ..."

Keywords/Tags: Ahmad Faraz, Pakistani, Urdu, Persian, translation, couplet, eager, traveler, love, mrburdu

“April Gem”

April 27th, 15 years ago,
A diamond was born in this world,
and here's what she should know.

Spring is a time of renewal,
and birth of life after the winter snow.
The second you showed up in our lives,
you never ceased to shine and glow.

The first born child in the Syed's household
in the Lonestar State, the catalyst for many more,
and into our hearts, you've opened the gate.

Pin straight hair of cocoa brown that's sways
in the Texas wind, and keeps your shoulders warm and hidden;
a flowy mane of coffee- like locks, reminds me
of a majestic horse I've once ridden.

Her eyes gleam with wonder so rare,
so bright and young and pure.
No rope, no pull, no strength or snare can
even come close to that mystical lure.

I'm reminiscent of days when the earth was rich,
and the taupe soil gleamed like those eyes.
I gazed in deeper, and saw the galaxies shine bright in her view,
shaming the dark night skies.

That laugh of yours, high pitched, loud, carefree,
and bright;
seeing the sound of pure joy and glee,
depicts a happy heart, a soul that’s joyful and light.

I love the way your teeth aren’t perfectly aligned,
I love the way how you know how to sign.
Not a day in my life, not a minute I’ve inhaled
have I ever felt so close to someone else,
or felt a kind of love so unable to fail.

I sprint to the phone when I know it’s you,
I love the way you make me smile, especially when I’m blue.
Exercise of any kind generally isn’t fun,
but knowing you’re on the opposite line on the phone will make me want to run.

We’ve known each other since we could barely even talk,
you’ve been by my side to pick you up when learning how to walk.
Memories fill up my heart and show up in the form of tears,
knowing that it’s all safe with you: my hope, my dreams, my fears.

We may not be close in miles, sure there’s some transportation mishaps along the way..
But although I can’t see you everyday, my heart is where you’ll stay.
Thanks for being there for me, when I felt broken and distraught..
no wise person, owl, or scholar can teach me what you’ve taught.




I remember those times, I felt like a vase,
ready to fall off the table,
You comforted me, told me it’ll be okay,
and with more loving words, I again felt stable.

The elementary school years, now they looked like a breeze.
But when I go back and remember it, time just seems to freeze.
Back when everyone was the same and our minds weren’t overbearing,
and the only thing that mattered was whether or not we were sharing.

You changed location, and I did too, all around the place,
From Chicago nights of cold, and the days spent with Asim Mama;
The home of the Longhorns welcomed you and you did it, with a sweaty and excited face,
And I’m sitting here remembering it all in fast forward, like a photo in panorama.

at first things were great with my mom and my dad
she should have stayed best she could have had.,
most would call it shallow to leave be on  your own,
not some tantrom all around disaster
day by day a year matured faster
I was only nine helping mamma cross the line,
child support goes for my stepbrothers fine.
maybe when he was my age he belonged in a love cage,. 10 His own mind rage,.
but sneakin out at night for some hood fight !  back to 21 remember  that he died right.
only one who cried long my heart syed a new song,
never understood. cant we just get along?
yea you say a bad kid, as a parent not helpin had did..
with learning had hid,
hurting words created
    thats why my brother deflated...
mom I was good kid seain what was right never under stood you'd rather quit or split
You know I was you're hero you made me just some zero...
once was indepenent then boom the mind flent,
now your'e just insane controlled by cliffs chain,
but you know that I dipped along the way I tripped
one thing that I fell, atleast I'm out my shell
led out on the train achieved my life regain,


sorry that I hit him,
your hubby just was  cruel
as a lil Rhym he through me in the tubby
hit me with his bottles called me fat and chubby
beaming red eyes screaming  all night crys,
all on my own,
brother helped when I got thrown.      

even at four got pushed to the floor.... by the way just more to say
Once i hit twelve I ran for he door
Thid bad man for the rest of her life
she said yes to be his wife,
with his big ring knee on the floor
I just think 'Ding hells at the door...
      moms the baby inside screams save me

  plus her dad got out the knife he was crazy her whole life
by time i Got to ten my mind was in a den,.
every day was yelling,
      just be soft and sweet by telling,
I know you are just scared And once you really cared.
with your so called man,
the one with no life planned
  You see I left the road called far west
with out your'e hand I just want the best,
one day mom you wont see me
one day mom you'll be at rest..
cause that mess left bullets in your'e chest :'( </3

Arrywillbeloved2013© copy right protected

One two three four five
Once I caight a fish alive
It bit my finger, but my finger was alive
But I wasn't
I tried to get alive but I couldn't
Then I tried again
And then I realized that I am alive

~ Syed Faèz Ali

What Happened to Them?
by Nasir Kazmi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Those who came ashore, what happened to them?
Those who sailed away, what happened to them?

Those who were coming at dawn, when dawn never arrived ...
Those caravans en route, what happened to them?

Those I awaited each night on moonless paths,
Who were meant to light beacons, what happened to them?

Who are these strangers surrounding me now?
All my lost friends and allies, what happened to them?

Those who built these blazing buildings, what happened to them?
Those who were meant to uplift us, what happened to them?

NOTE: This poignant poem was written about the 1947 partition of India into two nations: India and Pakistan. I take the following poem to be about the aftermath of the division.

Climate Change
by Nasir Kazmi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The songs of our silenced lips are different.
The expressions of our regretful hearts are different.

In milder climes our grief was more tolerable,
But the burdens we bear today are different.

O, walkers of awareness's road, keep your watch!
The obstacles strewn on this stony path are different.

We neither fear separation, nor desire union;
The anxieties of my rebellious heart are different.

In the first leaf-fall only flowers fluttered from twigs;
This year the omens of autumn are different.

This world lacks the depth to understand my heartache;
Please endow me with melodies, for my cry is different!

One disconcerting glance bared my being;
Now in barren fields my visions are different.

No more troops, nor flags. Neither money, nor fame.
The marks of the monarchs on this land are different.

Men are not martyred for their beloveds these days.
The youths of my youth were so very different!

Nasir Kazmi Couplets

When I was a child learning to write
my first scribblings were your name.
―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch

When my feet lost the path
where was your hand?
―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch

Everything I found is yours;
everything I lost is also yours.
―Nasir Kazmi, translation by Michael R. Burch

Syed Nasir Raza Kazmi (1925-1972) was a renowned Urdu poet and playwright. His poetry continues to be used in Pakistan Television (PTV) shows and in Indian Bollywood films. Keywords/Tags: Nazir Kazmi, Urdu, translation, ghazal, couplet, love, pain, grief, melancholy, mrburdu

What if I’d never been called Martin?

If I’d been called Malcom or Syed or Fred?

Would I have been treated any differently, would the thoughts be different in my head?

Would I have been adopted by a different couple, maybe by ones who really loved me instead?

Would I be living in a bungalow in Barnet or a thatched cottage in Hay upon Wye?

Be a scientist obsessed by nuclear fusion or a pilot spending hours in the sky.

Would I be a murderous tyrant, leaving fear, dread and bloodshed in my wake or a devotee of the divine Mary Berry, perfecting the ultimate bake?  

Would stories be written about me or songs sung about me by the fire or would journalists interview my loved ones and dear ones, desperate to expose me as a liar.

What if I’d been created a monster, not even given a name at all?

Just left where my life had started. Curled up and quivering in a ball.

No one to tell me they loved me, no one to give me a hug. Just treat like a thing to recoil from, like an odious, hideous bug.

But what if someone noticed me, to whom the outside didn’t matter at all.

Who looked at the deepest core of my being and saw secrets and delights to enthral.

Who coached and nurtured and loved me and treat me with no fear or no shame and decided to call me Isaac, as
that
would
be
my
perfect
name.