mujhse pahli si mohabbat meri mahbub na mang

Faiz Ahmad Faiz

mujhse pahli si mohabbat meri mahbub na mang

Faiz Ahmad Faiz

MORE BY Faiz Ahmad Faiz

    INTERESTING FACT

    With this poem, Faiz’s focus changes from traditional Urdu poetry to “poetry with purpose”, poetry with social conscience pursuing social causes. And Faiz admitted it, before the start of this poem, with a quote from a Persian poet, Nizami: “Dil-e-bufro-khatm, jaan-e-khareedun” ( “I have sold my heart and bought a soul”)

    mujh se pahlī mohabbat mirī mahbūb na maañg

    maiñ ne samjhā thā ki hai to daraḳhshāñ hai hayāt

    terā ġham hai to ġham-e-dahr jhagḌā kyā hai

    terī sūrat se hai aalam meñ bahāroñ ko sabāt

    terī āñkhoñ ke sivā duniyā meñ rakkhā kyā hai

    jo mil jaa.e to taqdīr nigūñ ho jaa.e

    yuuñ na thā maiñ ne faqat chāhā thā yuuñ ho jaa.e

    aur bhī dukh haiñ zamāne meñ mohabbat ke sivā

    rāhateñ aur bhī haiñ vasl rāhat ke sivā

    Do Not Ask of Me, My Love

    an-ginat sadiyoñ ke tārīk bahīmāna tilism

    resham o atlas o kamḳhāb meñ bunvā.e hue

    jā-ba-jā bikte hue kūcha-o-bāzār meñ jism

    ḳhaak meñ luThḌe hue ḳhuun meñ nahlā.e hue

    Do not ask of me, my love,

    that love I once had for you.

    There was a time when

    life was bright and young and blooming,

    and your sorrow was much more than

    any other pain.

    Your beauty gave the spring everlasting youth;

    your eyes, yes your eyes were everything,

    all else was vain.

    While you were mine, I thought, the word was mine.

    Though now I know that it was not reality,

    that's the way I imagined it to be;

    for there are other sorrow in the world than love,

    and other pleasures, too.

    Woven in silk and stain and brocade,

    those dark and brutal curses of countless centuries:

    bodies bathed in blood, smeared with dust,

    sold from market-place to market-place,

    bodies risen from the cauldron of disease

    pus dripping from their festering sores-

    my eyes must also turn to these,

    You're beautiful still, my love

    but I am helpless too;

    for there are other sorrow in the world than love,

    and other pleasures too.

    Do not ask of me, my love,

    the love I once had for you!

    jism nikle hue amrāz ke tannūroñ se

    piip bahtī huī galte hue nāsūroñ se

    lauT jaatī hai udhar ko bhī nazar kyā kiije

    ab bhī dilkash hai tirā husn magar kyā kiije

    aur bhī dukh haiñ zamāne meñ mohabbat ke sivā

    rāhateñ aur bhī haiñ vasl rāhat ke sivā

    mujh se pahlī mohabbat mirī mahbūb na maañg

    mujh se pahli si mohabbat meri mahbub na mang

    main ne samjha tha ki tu hai to daraKHshan hai hayat

    tera gham hai to gham-e-dahr ka jhagDa kya hai

    teri surat se hai aalam mein bahaaron ko sabaat

    teri aankhon ke siwa duniya mein rakkha kya hai

    tu jo mil jae to taqdir nigun ho jae

    yun na tha main ne faqat chaha tha yun ho jae

    aur bhi dukh hain zamane mein mohabbat ke siwa

    rahaten aur bhi hain wasl ki rahat ke siwa

    Do Not Ask of Me, My Love

    an-ginat sadiyon ke tarik bahimana tilism

    resham o atlas o kamKHab mein bunwae hue

    ja-ba-ja bikte hue kucha-o-bazar mein jism

    KHak mein luThDe hue KHun mein nahlae hue

    Do not ask of me, my love,

    that love I once had for you.

    There was a time when

    life was bright and young and blooming,

    and your sorrow was much more than

    any other pain.

    Your beauty gave the spring everlasting youth;

    your eyes, yes your eyes were everything,

    all else was vain.

    While you were mine, I thought, the word was mine.

    Though now I know that it was not reality,

    that's the way I imagined it to be;

    for there are other sorrow in the world than love,

    and other pleasures, too.

    Woven in silk and stain and brocade,

    those dark and brutal curses of countless centuries:

    bodies bathed in blood, smeared with dust,

    sold from market-place to market-place,

    bodies risen from the cauldron of disease

    pus dripping from their festering sores-

    my eyes must also turn to these,

    You're beautiful still, my love

    but I am helpless too;

    for there are other sorrow in the world than love,

    and other pleasures too.

    Do not ask of me, my love,

    the love I once had for you!

    jism nikle hue amraaz ke tannuron se

    pip bahti hui galte hue nasuron se

    lauT jati hai udhar ko bhi nazar kya kije

    ab bhi dilkash hai tera husn magar kya kije

    aur bhi dukh hain zamane mein mohabbat ke siwa

    rahaten aur bhi hain wasl ki rahat ke siwa

    mujh se pahli si mohabbat meri mahbub na mang

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    Faiz Ahmad Faiz

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    Radhika Chopra

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    Shabnam Majeed

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    Fariha Parvez

    Fariha Parvez

    Rajni Pallavi

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    Teena Sani

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    Bushra Sadiq

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    RECITATIONS

    Noor Jahan

    Noor Jahan

    Fahad Husain

    Fahad Husain

    Faiz Ahmad Faiz

    Faiz Ahmad Faiz

    Noor Jahan

    mujhse pahli si mohabbat meri mahbub na mang Noor Jahan

    Source:

    • Book : Nuskha Hai Wafa (Pg. 61)
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