In the previous post, I deferred the story of my experiment to translate a ghazal into English. I am going to pick it up now but must state at the outset that it didn’t work for me and I am not going to repeat it unless there is a lightning strike of some sort. Therefore, those interested only in the outcome and not the process can choose to quit at this point.
Readers could well question the point of writing about a failed experiment. I refer them to Karl Ove Knausgård who has described his life (My Struggle) in six volumes including every banal detail quite independent of whether it was part of a success or not. Its overwhelming reception proves that, contrary to what we are made to think, all aspects of life have some value. In that spirit I feel inclined to share the experience of my failure.
As I mentioned earlier, I was encouraged by Anthony Madrid’s exciting essay (What Goes Wrong When We Write Ghazals in English) to see if I could try my hand at translating a ghazal. I didn’t want to pick a ghazal that I liked or was familiar with just to avoid any kind of bias. So, I flipped the Iftikhar Arif volume (kitaab-e dil o dunya) I had been using to translate some of his poems and it landed open at the following ghazal (here in Nastaleeq and Devanagari scripts as well).
ḳhvāb kī tarah bikhar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
aisī tanhā.ī ki mar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
ghar kī vahshat se laraztā huuñ magar jaane kyuuñ
shaam hotī hai to ghar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
Duub jā.ūñ to koī mauj nishāñ tak na batā.e
aisī naddī meñ utar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
kabhī mil jaa.e to raste kī thakan jaag paḌe
aisī manzil se guzar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
vahī paimāñ jo kabhī jī ko ḳhush aayā thā bahut
usī paimāñ se mukar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
Note the refrain in this five-couplet ghazal is jaane ko jī chāhtā hai (I wish to). Both lines of the first couplet and the second line of every other couplet end with this refrain.
The rhyme, which precedes the refrain, comprises the words bikhar, mar, ghar, utar, guzar and mukar (scatter, die, home, descend and recant).
So, the heart wishes to do these various things and the couplets describe why that might be the case.
The easy decision was to drop the rhyme which would be impossible to recreate in English without sounding strained. Equally simple was to avoid sticking the refrain at the end of the sentence where it would have been quite unnatural. Madrid sensibly advises placing it where it best blends with the flow of the English sentence.
What to do with the thematically unrelated couplets that deprive the narrative of any sense of continuity? My choice, which is certainly controversial, is to extract whatever thematic coherence is available by reordering the couplets. With that in view, I opted for the following sequence.
vahī paimāñ jo kabhī jī ko ḳhush aayā thā bahut
usī paimāñ se mukar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
kabhī mil jaa.e to raste kī thakan jaag paḌe
aisī manzil se guzar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
ḳhvāb kī tarah bikhar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
aisī tanhā.ī ki mar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
Duub jā.ūñ to koī mauj nishāñ tak na batā.e
aisī naddī meñ utar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
ghar kī vahshat se laraztā huuñ magar jaane kyuuñ
shaam hotī hai to ghar jaane ko jī chāhtā hai
Here is the translation:
I wish to disown the very promise
I had once made with such joy.
I wish for no more rest-stops,
they are more tiring than the trek.
Who wants this kind of loneliness,
I wish to disappear like a dream.
Find me a placid river with no waves,
I wish to drown without a trace.
Home drives me away in despair,
I wish desperately to return at night.
***
Critical feedback would be greatly appreciated in the spirit of islah (the practice of correction and improvement) which was an essential component of the tradition of pedagogy in Urdu poetry.
Note: While I won’t be translating entire ghazals into English, I will keep explicating at length individual couplets that I find of particular relevance for any reason. This is the pattern followed in Thinking with Ghalib: Poetry for a New Generation (2021) co-authored with Amit Basole.