Who Clad Your Delicate Frame In Red Poem by Ghulam Ahmad Mahjoor

Who clad your delicate frame in red,
O bright lightning, let me gaze
At you, bewitching in your splendour !

With equal thunder in town and village,
You blazed over Ahrabal, and down
Via Khanabal, showering the nectar of love.

Your zigzag form, like wavy hair
With plaits twirled all over the golden curls,
Or like wild flowers on sinuous stems !

Going to your husband's home in the evening
With bridal dress of sparkling starch,
You turned back soon to rush to your father's !

When you peeped under the curtain, we got a glimpse;
You too saw the whole world at a glance,
And soon wrapped yourself up again.

Which sage gave you the secret truth
That the world isn't good for spotless souls ?
O yemberzal, does that make you keep away ?

O gorgeous shape, if the world is evil,
Why do you often gaze at it ?
What desire draws you, O masval ?

What does it mean, you being attired
In red robes from top to toe ?
Does it signify innocent blood ?

Your precious torch flames its light,
Now and again, to show the path
To those who have lost their way.

O blazing torch of the high skies !
Whom does your light seek so late at night,
Or you just love playing hide-and-seek ?

Fate has played foul with Mahjoor,
Giving him as comrades total strangers,
Who mistake his pearls as dust !


[Translated by: Triloki Nath Raina]