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[Frontispiece: ZAFAR.]
HINDUSTANI LYRICS
RENDERED FROM THE URDU
BY
INAYAT KHAN
AND
JESSIE DUNCAN WESTBROOK
_Sufism is the Religious Philosophy of Love, Harmony, and Beauty_
LONDON:
THE SUFI PUBLISHING SOCIETY, LTD.,
86, LADBROKE ROAD, LONDON, W. 11.
_All rights reserved._
1919
CONTENTS.
PORTRAIT OF ZAFAR
FOREWORD
URDU LYRICS:--
ABRU
AMIR
ASIF
DAGH
FIGHAN
GHALIB
HALI
HASAN
INSHA
JURAT
MIR
MIR SOZ
MIR TAQI
MOMIN
MUSHAFI
MUZTAR
NASIKH
SAUDA
SHAMSHAD
TABAN
WALI
YAKRANG
ZAFAR
ZAHIR
ZAUQ
FRAGMENTS:--
ARZU
GHALIB
HATIM
MAZHAR
MIR DARD
MIR SOZ
MIR TAQI
SAUDA
TABAN
GLOSSARY
FOREWORD.
Of the many languages of India, Urdu (Hindustani) is the most widely
known, especially in Upper India. Both as a written and a spoken
language it has a reputation throughout Asia for elegance and
expressiveness. Until the time of Muhammad Shah, Indian poetry was
written in Persian. But that monarch, who mounted the throne of Delhi
in 1719, greatly desired to make Urdu the vogue, and under his patronage
and approval, Hatim, one of his ministers, and Wali of the Deccan,
wrote Diwans in Urdu. This patronage of poets was continued by his
successors, and exists indeed to the present day; and the cultivation
of Urdu poetry has always been encouraged at the many Courts of India.
Some of the Indian Rulers are themselves poets, and find their duty
and pleasure in rewarding with gifts and pensions the literary men
whose works they admire. The Court of Hyderabad has for long had a
circle of poets: the late Nizam was himself eminent as a writer of
verse. The Maharaja-Gaekwar of Baroda is a generous patron of literary
men, and the present Rulers of lesser States such as Patiala, Nabha,
Tonk, and Rampur, are deeply interested in the cultivation of poetry
in their Dominions.
In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries many towns in India had
extensive and flourishing literary coteries, and it is from the poets
of that period that this handful of verses is gathered. The Mushaira--a
poetical concourse, wherein rival poets meet to try their skill in
a tournament of verse--is still an institution in India. Delhi, Agra,
Lucknow, Lahore, Cawnpore, Allahabad, Benares, Calcutta, and
Hyderabad, have all been, and some still are, nests of singing birds.
Of the extent of Urdu literature some idea may be gained from the fact
that a History of it written about 1870 gives the names of some three
thousand authors, and that Tazkiras or anthologies containing
selections from many poets are very numerous.
The poetry is very varied and of great interest. It includes moral
verses and counsels, sometimes in intermingled verse and prose; heroic
poems telling the old tales of the loves of Khusru and Shirin, of Yusuf
and Zuleika, of Majnun and Leila, and the romances of chivalry; elegies
on the deaths of Hasan and Hussein, and of various monarchs; devotional
poems in praise of Muhammad and the Imams; eulogies of the reigning
Ruler or other patron or protector of the poor; satires upon men and
institutions, sometimes upon Nature herself, specially upon such
phenomena as heat, cold, inundations and pestilence; descriptive verse
relating to the seasons and the months, the flowers and the trees.
Above all there is a great wealth of love poetry, both secular and
mystic, where, in impassioned ghazals or odes, the union of man with
God is celebrated under various allegories, as the bee and the lotus,
the nightingale and the rose, the moth and the flame.
Most of the poets represented in this book write as Sufis, or Muslim
mystics, and scoff at the unenlightened orthodox. For them God is in
all and through all, to be worshipped equally in the Kaaba and in the
Temple of the Idols, or too great to be adored adequately through the
ritual of any creed. He is symbolized as the beautiful and cruel Beloved,
difficult to find, withdrawn behind the veil, inspiring and demanding
all worship and devotion. The Lover is the Madman, derided by the
unsympathetic crowd, but happy in his ecstatic despair. He drinks the
wine of love and is filled with a divine intoxication. For him this
world is Maya--illusion, and the true life is that which is unmanifest.
He finds no abiding place in this mortal caravan-serai, this shifting
House of Mirrors; for his Soul is ever passing forward on the high
Quest. Knowledge and skill are as dust, and self as nothing, compared
with the Love that goads and urges him on.
As a language, Urdu has a most composite ancestry, and comprises
elements derived from the original languages of India, from Sanskrit,
the tongue of the Aryan invaders, from Persian, from Turkish, from
Kurdish and other Tartar tongues, from Arabic, even from Egyptian and
Abyssinian; and later from such very foreign sources as Portuguese,
Dutch, French, and English. The political phases through which India
has successively passed have left their record in this hybrid character
of the language. The process of its evolution really began long before
the Christian era, when Sanskrit--the language of the Aryan
conquerors--began to commingle with the languages of the peoples in
Upper India, or Hindustan. From this union came the prakrits, or
vernaculars. The one which at the time of the Buddha was current in
Magadha--parts of the present British Behar and Orissa and the United
Provinces of Agra and Oudh--was known as Magdhi, and the message
delivered by the great Teacher was recorded in that vernacular. This
spread rapidly with the growth of Buddhism, and became the court and
official language of a large part of Upper India. The language which
was developed in the north and north-west was called at first by the
simple name Bhasha (Bhakha), which means the usual tongue, but later
took the name of Hindi, and is written in the Sanskrit (Deva-nagari)
character.
At the beginning of the eighth century the Muslims appeared as
conquerors in India. Mahmoud of Ghuzni, about 1,000 A.D., won great
victories, and from that time Bhasha began to be modified in the towns.
Four centuries later Tamerlane of the Mogul race entered India and
took Delhi, laying the foundation of the Empire definitely established
by Babar in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Hindi became
saturated with Persian, itself already laden with many Arab words
introduced through conquest and religion. The market of the army was
established round Delhi, and bore the Tartar name of Urdu, which means
horde or army, and thus, camp. It was especially at Delhi, after its
rebuilding by Shah Jehan and its growth into the metropolis and
literary and commercial and military centre, that the hybrid tongue
took definite shape; it was named Zaban-i-urdu (literally, the
language of the army) or simply Urdu, and was written in the Persian
character. Even in its infancy it manifested a wealth of poetic
inspiration derived from its varied ancestry.
The poets from whose work the lyrics in this book have been selected
were mostly writers of voluminous Diwans, and they occupied various
and diverse stations in life. Some were Rulers, some soldiers, some
darweshes (devotees), some men of letters only. The name given is in
each case the takhallus (pen-name); each has some special significance,
as Sauda, the folly of love, Momin, the believer, Zafar, the
victorious; and frequently this name is introduced, by way of signature,
into the closing stanza of a poem.
ABRU: born at Lucknow, lived at Delhi, was a darwesh of the Order of
Kalenders, and wrote an Urdu Diwan much appreciated for the ingenious
allegories in which it abounds.
AMIR: Amir Minai of Rampur, one of the best poets of the latest period:
a great mystical poet: his Qasidahs for Muhammad are sung by devotees:
Court poet of Rampur: travelled to Mecca and Medina, and, after the
death of his patron, Nawab Kalbe Ali Khan, came to Hyderabad on hearing
of the Nizam's fame and interest in poetry: rival of Dagh, by whose
side he lies buried in Hyderabad.
ARZU: a poet of Gwalior, where he held an important Government post
in the days of Shah Alam II. (r. 1759-1806). He wrote his poems mostly
in Persian, and was the author of a Dictionary of Mystical words.
ASIF: pen-name of H.H. Mir Mahbub Ali Khan, Nizam of Hyderabad, who
died in 1911: pupil of the poet Dagh (q.v.) and was an esteemed poet,
and patron of poets.
DAGH: a court poet of Rampur: went to Hyderabad and became the teacher
of the Nizam in poetry (see Asif): lived there in great honour as Poet
Laureate, and was given the title of Fasih-ul-Mulk (the eloquence of
the nation): his poetry is described as natural and graceful in
expression: his proficiency was so great that no poet could stand
against him in the Mushaira: he was of extraordinary wit.
FIGHAN: of Delhi: was the foster-brother of the Emperor Ahmad Shah
(r. 1748-1754) and was one of the principal officers at the Imperial
Court: famous for his piquant and witty conversation, and greatly
skilled in jeux de mots, at which he spent his days and nights.
GHALIB: came of a distinguished Turk family of Samarkand: wrote in
Persian as well as in Urdu, and held the position of Poet Laureate
at the Court of Bahadur Shah (r. 1837-1857) the last Mogul Emperor.
HALI: a modern poet: pupil of Ghalib: recently dead: greatly admired,
chiefly by the Muslims, for his poems calling for Muslim and Indian
renascence. He received from the British Government the title of
Shams-ul-ulema.
HASAN: Mir Shulam Hasan, born at Delhi: passed his youth in Faizabad
and then came to Lucknow to join the literary circle there: was as
handsome in person as in mind, and his verse is still popular.
HATIM: one of the early poets: born about 1700, he lived till near
the end of the century: a soldier by profession, but in his old age
renounced the world and became a darwesh: his cell was near the gate
of the Imperial Palace, and many persons resorted to him for counsel.
INSHA: born in Murshedabad, lived in Lucknow about the end of the 18th
century: enjoyed the favour of Prince Suleiman Shikoh: wrote verse
in Turkish, Arabic, Persian, but was most famous for his Urdu poems,
which are elegant in style and conception.
JURAT: of Delhi, celebrated for his skill in music, astronomy and
poetry: became blind when still young: was pensioned by the Nawab
Muhabbat Khan and afterwards by Suleiman Shikoh: author of an enormous
volume of Urdu poetry composed of ghazals and of love-poems in the
modern taste. Wrote satires on the rain, the cold, smallpox, etc.
Versed in Hindu as well as Muslim poetry.
MAZHAR: of Delhi: family originally from Bokhara: learned in
jurisprudence as well as poetry: many favourite poets were his pupils:
was a Sunni, made profession of spiritual poverty, and was even reputed
to be able to work miracles: was killed by a fanatic because he
disagreed with the Shiah mourning for the death of Hussein: died in
1780, aged nearly a hundred years.
MIR DARD: author of a famous Urdu diwan: skilled in the sacred music
as sung at the assemblies of the Sufis: lived the life of a sage, the
Padishah often coming to him for counsel, though he himself never
sought the Emperor's Court.
MIR SOZ: of Bokhari ancestry, had to leave his country in time of peril
in the dress of a fakir: came to Lucknow, where he became tutor
to the Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula.
MIR TAQI: born at Agra, in his later days lived at Lucknow, under the
protection of the Nawab of Oudh: wrote many kinds of verse, but excelled
in the ghazal and the masnawi, and was the author of a biography of
poets: wrote his own autobiography in Persian, and also Persian poetry.
MOMIN: of Delhi: author of six long masnawis: skilled in medicine,
astronomy and astrology, and deeply read in poetry: at first lived
a gay and reckless life, in his old age gave himself to prayer and
fasting, and acquired great contemporary fame: his work is considered
to be the most delicate flower of Urdu expression.
MUSHAFI: belonged to a distinguished family of Amroha: lived at first
at Lucknow, then went to Delhi: there he held famous literary reunions,
at which gathered many poets of whom he was the inspirer and teacher.
MUZTAR: born and educated at Lucknow: his ancestors occupied an
honourable rank at Delhi: was a pupil of Mushafi.
NASIKH: of Calcutta: belonged to the latter half of the 19th century:
Deputy Magistrate and Member of the Legislative Council of Bengal.
SAUDA: born at Delhi about 1720: a soldier by profession: much esteemed
in his lifetime, and was a favourite at Court: excelled in all kinds
of poetry, chiefly the ghazal, the qasidah, and satire.
TABAN: of Delhi: as famous for his beauty as for his poetic talent:
pupil of Hatim, and was a friend of Mazhar and Sauda: was descended
from the Prophet on both father's and mother's side.
WALI: of the Deccan, the first to write an Urdu Diwan: is considered
the Father of Urdu poetry: born at Aurungabad, wrote in the latter
half of the 17th century. He held a just balance between Sunnis and
Shiahs, and did not flatter any Ruler in his verses. He knew the
literature and art of Europe and wrote many mystical and spiritual
poems.
YAKRANG: one of the officers of the Emperor Muhammad Shah (r. 1719-48):
lived in dignity and honour at Delhi.
ZAHIR: a well-known modern poet, lived at Rampur at the Court of Nawab
Kalbe Ali Khan, afterwards at the Court of the Nawab of Tonk, and
finally at Hyderabad, in the literary circle of the Nizam, by whom
he was much appreciated and rewarded.
ZAUQ: a celebrated poet at the Court of Bahadur Shah (r. 1837-57):
was his teacher in the arts of verse: compiler of an anthology Of poems:
is said to have written one hundred thousand verses: is still highly
popular and much quoted.
ZAFAR: or Bahadur Shah, was the Padishah of Delhi, the last Mogul
Emperor, and lived 1768-1862: son of Akbar II.: was over 60 years of
age when he came to the throne: himself a poet and a good judge of
music and painting, he gathered round him literary men and artists:
of fine countenance and distinguished manners, and extremely loved
and admired by his subjects: skilled in all kinds of poetry, and some
of his ghazals continue to be popular: author of a voluminous Diwan,
and a Commentary on the Gulistan of Saadi: a clever caligraphist, wrote
with his own hand passages from the Koran for the ornamentation of
the principal Mosque of Delhi. His son Dara was also a poet. At the
Mutiny in 1857 he was taken prisoner and sent to Rangoon: there he
continued to write verses, and died at an advanced age. His portrait,
which forms the frontispiece to this book, is from a miniature kindly
lent by the Indian Section of the Victoria and Albert Museum, South
Kensington.
J.D.W.
Dulwich Village, London.
October, 1918.
I.
Thou tak'st no heed of me,
I am as naught to thee;
Cruel Beloved, arise!
Lovely and languid thou,
Sleep still upon thy brow,
Dreams in thine eyes.
From out thy garment flows
Fragrance of many a rose--
Airs of delight
Caught in the moonlit hours
Lying among the flowers
Through the long night.
Look on my face how pale!
Will naught my love avail?
Naught my desire?
Hold it as gold that is
Cleansed of impurities
Tried in the fire.
Pity my heart distrest,
Caught by that loveliest
Tress of thine hair,
So that I fear the shade
Even by thine eyebrows made
O'er eyes so fair.
ABRU.
II.
Thou, Sorrow, wilt keep and wilt cherish the memory of me
Long after my death,
For thou dwelt at my heart, and my blood nourished thee,
Thou wert warmed by my breath.
My heart has disgraced me by clamour and wailing for years
And tossing in pain,
Mine eyes lost their honour by shedding these torrents of tears
Like fast-falling rain.
O Wind of Disaster, destroy not the home of my heart
With the blasts of thine ire,
For there I have kindled to burn in a chamber apart
My Lamp of Desire.
AMIR.
III.
Had I control o'er her, the dear Tormentor,
Then might I rest;
I cannot govern her, nor can I master
The heart within my breast.
I cast myself upon the ground in anguish
Wounded and sore,
Yet longed to have two hearts that she might pierce them,
That I might suffer more.
Utterly from her heart hath she erased me,
No marks remain,
So there shall be no grave from which my ashes
May greet her steps again.
O cruel One, when once your glances smote me,
Why turn your head?
It were more merciful to let their arrows
Pierce me and strike me dead.
No tomb, Amir, could give my dust oblivion,
No rest was there:
And when they told her I had died of sorrow,
She did not know--nor care.
AMIR.
IV.
This Life is less than shadows; if thou yearn
To know and find the God thou worshippest,
From all the varying shows of being turn
To that true Life which is unmanifest.
Beware, O travellers, dangerous is Life's Way
With lures that call, illusion that deceives,
For set to snare the voyagers that stray
Are fortresses of robbers, lairs of thieves.
The seer's eyes look on the cup of wine
And say--We need no more thy drunkenness;
An exaltation that is more divine,
Another inspiration, we possess.
O praise not peacock youth; it flits away
And leaves us but the ashes of regret,
A disappointed heart, a memory,
An empty foolish pride that lingers yet.
Upon the path, Amir, we journey far,
Weary the road where mankind wandereth;
O tell me, does it lead through Life's bazar,
Or is it the dread gate and house of Death?
AMIR.
V.
Here can my heart no longer rest;
It tells my happy destiny,
Towards Medina lies my quest,
The Holy Prophet summons me.
I should not marvel if for flight
Upon my shoulders wings should start,
My body is so gay and light
With this new gladness in my heart.
My weary patience nears its end;
Unresting heart, that yearns and loves,
Convey me far to meet my friend
Within Medina's garden groves.
My spirit shall not faint nor tire,
Although by many tender bands
My country holds me, I desire
The journey through the desert sands.
By day and night forever now
I burn in Love's hot furnace breath,
Although there gather on my brow
The cold and heavy sweats of death.
And ever in my home in Hind
At dawn's first light, at evenfall,
I hear upon the desert wind
The Prophet of Arabia call.
AMIR.
VI.
The light is in mine eyes,
Within my heart I feel Thy joy arise,
From gate to inmost shrine
This palace of my soul is utterly Thine.
O longing seeking eyes,
He comes to you in many a varied guise,
If Him you cannot find
The shame be yours, O eyes that are so blind.
I as His mirror glow
Bearing His image in my heart, and know
That glowing clear in His
The image of my heart reflected is.
O drink the Wine of Love,
And in the Assembly of Enlightened move,
Let not the darkness dim
Fall like a curtain 'twixt thy soul and Him.
Who gives away his soul
Forgets his petty self and wins the whole,
Losing himself outright
He finds himself in the Eternal Light.
Crazy art thou, Amir,
To wait before His gate in hope and fear;
For never in thy pain
Shall He yield up thy ravished heart again.
AMIR.
VII.
How can I dare profess
I am the lover whom Thou dost prefer!
Thou art the essence of all loveliness,
And I Thy very humblest worshipper.
Upon the Judgment Day
So sweet Thy mercy shall to sinners prove,
That envying them even the Saints shall say--
Would we were sinners thus to know Thy love!
When in the quest for Thee
The heart shall seek among the pious throng,
Thy voice shall call--If Thou desirest me
Among the sinners I have dwelt for long.
At the great Reckoning
Mighty the wicked who before Thy throne
Shall come for judgment; little can I bring,
No store of good nor evil deeds I own.
Among the thorns am I
A thorn, among the roses am a rose,
Friend among friends in love and amity,
Foe among foes.
AMIR.
VIII.
I shall not try to flee the sword of Death,
Nor fearing it a watchful vigil keep,
It will be nothing but a sigh, a breath,
A turning on the other side to sleep.
Through all the close entanglements of earth
My spirit shaking off its bonds shall fare
And pass, and rise in new unfettered birth,
Escaping from this labyrinth of care.
Within the mortal caravan-serai
No rest and no abiding place I know,
I linger here for but a fleeting day,
And at the morrow's summoning I go.
What are these bonds that try to shackle me?
Through all their intricate chains my way I find,
I travel like a wandering melody
That floats untamed, untaken, on the wind.
From an unsympathetic world I flee
To you, your love and fellowship I crave,
O Singers dead, Sauda and Mushafi,
I lay my song as tribute on your grave.
AMIR.
IX.
Of no use is my pain to her nor me:
For what disease is love the remedy?
My heart that may not to her love attain
Is humble, and would even crave disdain.
O traitrous heart that my destruction sought
And me to ruin and disaster brought!
As, when the chain of life is snapt in twain,
Never shall it be linked, so ne'er again
My utterly broken heart shall be made whole.
I cannot tear the Loved One from my soul,
Nor can I leave my heart that clings to her.
O Asif, am I not Love's minister!
Who has such courage in Love's ways to dare!
What heart like mine such bitterness can bear!
ASIF.
X.
The eyes of the narcissus win new light
From gleams that in Thy rapturous eyes they trace,
The flame is but a moth with fluttering flight
Drawn by the lovelier lustre of Thy face.
This shifting House of Mirrors where we dwell
Under Thy charm a fairy palace seems:
Who hath not fallen tangled in Thy spell
Beguiled by visions, wandering in dreams!
The hearts of all Thy captive lovers stray
Hither and thither driven by whims of Thine,
Sometimes within the Kaaba courts to pray,
Sometimes to worship at the Idols' Shrine.
O Asif, thou hast known such grief and shame,
Shrinking beneath the cruel scourge of Love,
That all the earth will hail thee with acclaim
As most courageous of the sons thereof.
ASIF.
XI.
When shall the mocking world withhold its blame,
When shall men cease to darken thus my name,
Calling the love which is my pride, my shame!
O Judge, let me my condemnation see;
Whose names are written on my death decree?--
The names of all who have been friends to me.
What hope to reach the Well-Beloved's door,
The dear lost dwelling that I knew of yore;
I stumbled once; I can return no more.
The joy of love no heart can feel alone,
The fire of love at first unseen, unknown,
In flames of love from either side is blown.
O Asif, tread thy pathway carefully
Across this difficult world; for, canst thou see,
A further journey is awaiting thee.
ASIF.
XII.
I ask that God in justice punish me
With death, if my love waver or grow less;
Faithful am I indeed--
How can you comprehend such faithfulness?
To you alone I offer up my heart,
To any other what have I to give?
No light demand I make,
What answer will you grant that I may live?
If on the last dread Day of Reckoning
I think of you, and in my heart there shine
The beauty of your face,
God's Beatific Vision shall be mine.
Once I had friends, now none are left to me;
I see none else but you, because my heart
Has wholly fled to you,
And thus I walk the ways of Earth apart.
I, Asif, am the chief of sinners held,
This dark dishonour will I not deny,
But glory in my shame;
Where is another sinner such as I?
ASIF.
XIII.
O changing Wheel of Fate, still let there last
Before our eager eyes, still let there burn,
This vision of the world; when we have passed
There shall be no return.
I thought that, leaving thee, rest would be mine,
My lost tranquillity I might regain,
But separation brings no anodyne,
And kills me with its pain.
How can I traffic in Love's busy mart?
Thou hast won from me more than stores of gold;
That I may bargain, give me back the heart
Thy cruel fingers hold.
O heart desirous, in Love's perilous way
Thy journey take and in his paths abide,
And thou mayst find perchance, lest thou should stray,
Awaiting thee, a guide.
DAGH.
XIV.
O Weaver of Excuses, what to thee
Are all the promises that thou hast made,
The truth derided, and the faith betrayed,
And all thy perfidy?
Sometimes thou sayest--Come at eventide:
And when the evening falls, thou sayest--Dawn
Was when I called thee. Even when night is gone
I wait unsatisfied.
When in thy haughty ear they did commend
Me as the faithfullest of all thy train,
Thou saidst--I hold such lovers in disdain,
I scoff at such a friend.
O Mischief-maker, passing-on thy way
So lovely is thy mien, all creatures must
Cry out--It is debarred to things of dust
To walk so winningly.
Why shouldst thou keep from tyranny anew?
Why shouldst thou not betray another one?
What matter if he die? Thou hast but done
What thou wast born to do.
