Ya Shama Jal Rahi Hai Phoolon Ki Anjuman Mein
Is the firefly aglow in the garden’s abode?
Or blazes a lamp in the throng of the flowers?
Ya Jaan Parh Gyi Hai Mehtaab Ki Kiran Mein
Has a star fluttered down that high aloft rode?
Has a ray of the moon won some life-throbbing powers?
Gharbat Mein Aa Ke Chamka, Ghumnaam Tha Watan Mein
Has the envoy of day come to realms of the night?
Come humbly, a gleam to its own land unknown?
Zarra Hai Ya Numayan Suraj Ke Pairhan Mein
Has there fallen a whorl that moon’s cloak once bedight?
From the robe of the sun has a sequin been shown?
Le Ayi Jis Ko Qudrat Khalwat Se Anjuman
Here is hidden the sheen of Old Beauty and bright
That Nature uncovers for men of our day.
Nikla Kabhi Gehn Se, Aya Kabhi Gehn Mein
In this little moon are both darkness and light,
As eclipse may advance, or eclipse pass away.
Woh Roshni Ka Talib, Ye Roshni Sarapa
The moth and the firefly through air both take wing.
One seeks for light: one in light’s all arrayed:
Parwane Ko Tapish Di, Jugnoo Ko Roshani Di
On earth nature grants all some soulgladd’ning thing.
For the moth was heat, for the firefly light made.
Gul Ko Zuban De Kar Taleem-e-Khamashi Di
On birds that were tongueless it dowered melody:
Gave a tongue to the rose but withheld from it song.
Chamka Ke Iss Pari Ko Thori Si Zindagi Di
For sunset it fashioned sheer half‐light to see;
Set fairy a‐glitter but her life made not long:
Pehna Ke Laal Jorha Shabnam Ki Aar Si Di
The morning made brilliant like sweet bird of love:
Clad down in red robes—with dew’s mirror dawn plays.
Pani Ko Di Rawani, Moujon Ko Be-Kali Di
It brought the tree shadiness, caused air to move,
Set motion to water, taught waves’ restless ways.
Jugnoo Ka Din Wohi Hai Jo Raat Hai Humari
Yet this is a puzzle that troubles our mind.
The day of the firefly for us is the night.
Insan Mein Woh Sukhan Hai, Ghunche Mein Woh Chatak Hai
In everything luster of beauty we fine;
In man there is speech: opening buds smile delight.
Waan Chandani Hai Jo Kuch, Yaan Dard Kasak Hai
This moon of the sky is as heat of the bard.
There shines the bright moon: here is anguish of pain.
Naghma Hai Bu-e-Bulbul, Boo Phool Ki Chehak Hai
There must be some trick in the ways of the word:
Else the bird would be fragrance, the flower sing refrain.
Jugnoo Mein Jo Chamak Hai, Woh Phool Mein Mehak Hai
The riddle of union’s in beauty rich hid.
The glitter of firefly is fragrance of flower.
Har Shay Mein Jabke Pinhan Khamoshi-e-Azal Ho
Then why comes perversely this discord unbid
When all things at heart hide this silence of power?