Each star a rung,
night comes down the spiral
staircase of the evening.
The breeze passes by so very close
as if someone just happened to speak of love.
In the courtyard,
the trees are absorbed refugees
embroidering maps of return on the sky.
On the roof,
the moon - lovingly, generously -
is turning the stars
into a dust of sheen.
From every corner, dark-green shadows,
in ripples, come towards me.
At any moment they may break over me,
like the waves of pain each time I remember
this separation from my lover.
This thought keeps consoling me:
though tyrants may command that lamps be smashed
in rooms where lovers are destined to meet,
they cannot snuff out the moon, so today,
nor tomorrow, no tyranny will succeed,
no poison of torture make me bitter,
if just one evening in prison
can be so strangely sweet,
if just one moment anywhere on this earth.
I love the image of stars as a rung, a spiral staircase into the evening. The entire poem is clever and well-written.
Nice poem exhibits a great expression of the feelings and the plight of the prisoned people. The language is simple but ideas are soaring touching the sky.
This poet's heart can never be imprisoned- oh, but he frees the soul from bitterness and loneliness so surely his soul is just as free as those he freed
A great poem by a great poet. Faiz was a poet who amazingly put his feelings in reader's heart. My Salute to him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
strangely can an evening in a prison be so sweet....brings tears into my eyes.....are da thousands of my kashmiri brothers feeling same in indian prisons or are they not allowed to see the moon? God help all those innocent people languishing in indian jails....
Kashmiri brothers have one hope,
Kashmiri brothers have one hope, that their Pakistani brothers get to elope, with the wisdom to uplift their own lives with love.