Love Song (1)by Marcus Myers In Hindi/Urdu Translation Poem by Ravi Kopra

agar badan hamaaray kishtiyaaN hain
to uski kishti nikal gayi hai.
main 11 maheenoN se dooba hua hoon
us ki badaami aankhoN ki doori se,
baansuri bajaa rahan hoon
apne dhaanday k liyay,
main us se bahut door hoon
us k bajoo ki garmaaish se,
us ki peetal se gaaDi kishti
k paani k oopar ki sides se.
jab us ne muje dubaaya na tha
kuch arsay tak hum donoN ne
saath saath kishti main sair ki thee
jo muje lagaa us k mun bhaavan ki thee.
halaaN k vo kaha karti thee
main bahut gahmbeer hoon.
vo kaha karti thee: kahaN hai meri hansi?
vo kaha karti thee: jab hum baat cheet kartay hain
jaldi main bahut gehraaeeoN main paunch jaatay hain
jin ki bunyaad nahin hoti aur har cheez ajeeb si ho jaati hai.
akhir main us k baaray main kya sochta hoon:
ek baiDay ki kishti sadeeoN tak bhari hui
shraab aur shehad ki suraaeeoN se
jo hum ne us main ladee theen.
itna bhaar tha un ka k muje ye lagta hai k
meri devdaar lakDi ki bani doobi kishti kabhi fir na tairay gi,
kabhi fir is k paaloN ko chamkeeli hawaa na cHooey gi.

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Love Song (1)
By MARCUS MYERS

If our bodies are vessels, hers sailed away.
I am sunken eleven months deep, away from her
hazel eyes like aulos pipers for my oarsmen,
away from her
sun-warmed sides and bronze-sheathed prow.
Before she sank me, we rowed a while together
and she seemed to like the wake we made.
She said I was always too heavy, though.
She said, Where's the levity?
She said when we talked, we dove too deep,
too fast,
into the abyssal zone
where things get weird.
The bottom of what I feel for her: a fleet ship
weighted centuries-deep
with the wine- and honey-laden amphora
we once carried together.
The weight of what I feel for her, the cedar-
pitch timber of it, will never surface
to lift the bright air
pushing against our sails again