Ravi Kinaray
Lost in its own silent rhythm, the Ravi sings its song.
In its undulating flow I see the reflections in my heart —
The willows, the world, in worship of God
I stand at the edge of the flowing water
I do not know how and where I stand —
In the wine-coloured dusk
The Old Man shakily sprinkles crimson in the sky
The day is returning to where it came from
This is not dew; these are flowers, gifts from the sun
Far off, a cluster of minarets stand in statuesque splendour
Marking where Moghul chivalry sleeps
This palace tells the story of time’s tyranny
A saga of a time long spent
What destination is this?
A quiet song only the heart can hear?
A gathering of trees speaks for me.
In midstream, a boat hurtles by
Riding the relentless currents,
Darting beyond the eye’s curved boundary.
Life flows on this river of eternity
Man is not born this way; does not perish this way
Undefeated, life slips beyond the horizon,
But does not end there.
Muhammad Allama Iqbal
- Translated by Parizad N. Sidhwa
At least get the name right:
It’s Allama Muhammad Iqbal and NOT Muhammad Allama Iqbal
What a pity: we do not know the real names of our forefathers!
aright aright!
we’ll correct it…