↓ Skip to main content
chaosplay
  1. Art/
  2. Writings/

A poem by Mir Taqi Mir

·1 min
Writing Translation

Translation: my English rendering of Mir Taqi Mir’s original.

Stop crying, this is just the beginning of love.

Hold on and see what will be next.

In the morning, there were voices in the caravan.

Let’s move on and let the sleeper sleep.

On this ground nothing can grow.

Please stop planting seeds of hopes in your heart.

These are marks of true love, they remain forever.

It is not possible to wash them away from your heart.

Time was more important than anything else in my life.

And Mir, I wasted my time foolishly.

This was another college project, I translated this poem by Mir Taqi Mir.

Related

A Poem by Mir Dard

·1 min
Writing Translation
Translation: my English rendering of Mir Dard’s original. It was a school or temple, or was it Makkah or a church. We were all guests, only you were the host. Oh! How sad it is. I found just before death. It was only a dream, what I saw. It was only a fairy tale, what I heard. How sad it is that autumn is in the garden. There was some grass, which was my friend.

A poem by Allama Iqbal

·1 min
Writing Translation
Translation: my English rendering of Allama Iqbal’s original. You are neither for earth nor for the heavens. The world is for you; you are not for the world. This garden is the place for pain and prayer. Not for picking flowers or building a nest. How long will you stay in the rivers of Ravi, Nile, and Farat? Your ship was built for infinite oceans. It was nothing, what we have exaggerated.

Oneness of Humanity

·2 mins
Writing Translation
Translation: my English rendering of Josh Malihabadi’s original. O my friend, a heart does not need hate. All love good but do not even hate bad. Who does not want the softness of flowers? But do not be afraid of sharpness of thorns. There is same blood in the veins of the thorn. It is brought up by same evening breeze of the spring. Do not throw away dying flowers. Yesterday, they were the glamor of the garden. Once they were also part of the world of perfumes. O passerby! Do not kick dust on their leaves. Though they are no longer in the feast. They were raised in the laps of same morning breeze.