The Decision (Faisala) , A Jane Hirshfield Poem In Hindi/Urdu Translation Poem by Ravi Kopra

Ek lehma hota hai jis se pehlay
koi cheez apnay roop rang main leti hai
bhathi ki aag main pukki hoti hai.
Mailbox main rakha khat
ab bhi vapis liya ja sakat hai
kohni hath ko peechay kar sakti hai
lafz galay ki pulse k andar
aur kamray ki khamoshi main reh sakta hi.
kiDia ka galla bahit tang nahin hai
cooper pe laga neela jung bahut wazani hai
fir bhi in k andar kuch n kuch fisal jata hai -
aur doosri disha ko aur mulkoN main chal paDta hai.
Desh-nikali main nahin, umeed main nahin. Siraf badlao aa jaata hai.
Jasiay rait ki khudoN ki sarak ka naam Silk Road bun jaata hai.
Agar vapis ko muD liye to ye kuch nahin ho sakta hai.

***

THE DECISION

There is a moment before a shape
hardens, a color sets.
Before the fixative or heat of kiln.
The letter might still be taken
from the mailbox.
The hand held back by the elbow,
the word kept between the larynx pulse
and the amplifying drum-skin of the room's air.
The thorax of an ant is not as narrow.
The green coat on old copper weighs more.
Yet something slips through it—
looks around,
sets out in the new direction, for other lands.
Not into exile, not into hope. Simply changed.
As a sandy track-rut changes when called a Silk Road:
it cannot be after turned back from.

-Jane Hirshfield