Award-winning novelist Amitabha Bagchi translates Urdu poet Muneer Niazi’s ghazals in a new book

she passed by me on her way to someone else’s home

she passed by me on her way to someone else’s home
trailing through the air, the scent of silken clothes

once I caught a glimpse of a captivating face
my eyes have never seen another sight like that again

heavy darkness wailed through the streets of the town
terror struck my heart when dark clouds came swirling round

a lovely pair of waiting eyes watched for him at home
who knows which desert’s sun burnt that traveller to his bones

the light that came before dawn, Muneer, was filled with so much pain
it filled my heart with sorrow, the whistle of a passing train

when the colours of spring settled on the garden then I saw

when the colours of spring settled on the garden then I saw
when the bitterness in my heart relented then I saw

I used to look at the expanse of the midnight sky
when that garden came down to earth then I saw

outside that lane, everything the eye could see had changed
when the shadows lifted from my lover’s street then I saw

that face looked like something else in the drunken night
when sobriety dawned with the morning then I saw

there was another river, Muneer, looming ahead of me
I had somehow crossed one river when I saw

this girl who is standing on the balcony today

this girl who is standing on the balcony today
she is a cloud in flight or flowers in a bouquet

demurely she unfastens the buttons of her dress
a fragrance is about to fill the night’s darkness

the light from a red dress fills up my gaze
a face is embedded like a jewel in my heart

my desires, like buds, once flowered over there
that window has been desolate for many, many days

the call of the peacock fills the dark with light
a hundred beautiful songs, the monsoon pours down tonight

strong drink should be drunk now that evening has come

strong drink should be drunk now that evening has come
it has been quite a while, I should now soothe my hurt

where will this beautiful garden be once you are dead?
no matter how deep the wounds, keep drawing your breath

he is wandering through the garden, deep in reverie
quietly go, snatch that rose, bring it back to me

clouds in the sky and a fragrance rising from the flower-covered land
my beautiful one in my lap, and a bottle by my hand

fetes of red lips, Muneer, have taken over the streets
to spot them in the darkness you need an eye that can see

I was not soothed by the breeze that blew in the springtime of my grief

I was not soothed by the breeze that blew in the springtime of my grief
and nor was that charming one to be seen on her balcony

I have suffered in separation all through this life
although I could have had you without any strife

walking down the way I saw a forgotten face
when I called out to her, I couldn’t recall her name

Muneer, you kept kicking up dust in grief ’s wilderness
although there wasn’t a single thing you wanted and didn’t get

Excerpted with permission from Lost Paradise: Selected Ghazals, Munir Niazi, translated from the Urdu by Amitabha Bagchi.