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

2 Comments so far

  1. sheepoo (unregistered) on May 23rd, 2006 @ 8:03 pm

    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!

  2. Balloon-o-Right (unregistered) on May 24th, 2006 @ 12:18 am

    aright aright!

    we’ll correct it…

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