It sounds like that desolate

It's been days since I read or heard any poetry. Writing has been any way out of the question for a while now. In fact, I think, I have not even quoted a random verse during all my conversations. And not even had a "conversation" in a long while. How long was that? Perhaps a few months, perhaps a lifetime... who knows! 

There is a lot of nothing happening, so to say but well... before I digress, here is what finally triggered some thoughts a day or two back. A friend tried translating a verse of Meer Taqi Meer. I counter-translated some more verses and shared those with him. Well, imagine if this is the most happening and fun thing I did in a while, how was the boring part? I know you know that. Anyway, I digress. Don't guess, just read. Who knows if you will see the poet me ever again or ...!!! 

हस्ती अपनी हबाब की सी है

ये नुमाइश सराब की सी है

This existence - a bubble or a bait

All like a Mirage to demonstrate 

चश्म-ए-दिल खोल के इस आलम पर,

याँ की औक़ात ख़्वाब की सी है

Open the inner eyes, for this world 

Nothing but a dream desperate 

नाज़ुकी उस के लब की क्या कहिए,

हर एक पंखुड़ी गुलाब की सी है

What to say of her rosey lips,

like the fragile petals, so delicate. 

नुक़्ता-ए-ख़ाल से तिरा अबरू

बैत इक इंतिख़ाब की-सी है

That beauty mark on your eyebrow

like a rhyme, a rhythm too great

मैं जो बोला कहा के ये आवाज़,

उसी ख़ानाख़राब की सी है

As I bespoke, she says 

it sounds like that desolate.