pas raho
tum mire paas raho
mire qātil, mire dildār mire paas raho
jis ghaḌī raat chale,
āsmānoñ kā lahū pī ke siyah raat chale
marham-e-mushk liye, nashtar-e-almās liye
bain kartī huī hañstī huī gaatī nikle
dard ke kāsnī pāzeb bajātī nikle
jis ghaḌī sīnoñ meñ Duube hue dil
āstīnoñ meñ nihāñ hāthoñ kī rah takne lage
aas liye
aur bachchoñ ke bilakne kī tarah qulqul-e-mai
bahr-e-nā-sūdgī machle to manā.e na mane
jab koī baat banā.e na bane
jab na koī baat chale
jis ghaḌī raat chale
jis ghaḌī mātamī sunsān siyah raat chale
paas raho
mire qātil, mire dildār mire paas raho
Be Near Me
Be near me,
my sweet torment, my love, be near me.
The moment this night descends,
drunk on the blood of the sky, the black night descends,
drenched in musky fragrance, bearing a diamond lancet,
when the night descends—wailing, laughing, singing,
jingling the violet bells of pain;
when hearts buried in breasts,
wait for the hands hidden in sleeves,
and wait with hope;
and the wine bottle gurgles, like a wailing child seeking contentment,
and is not consoled;
when nothing works,
nothing moves,
when the night descends,
when the wailing, lonely, black night descends,
be near me,
my sweet torment, my love, be near me.
tum mere pas raho
mere qatil, mere dildar mere pas raho
jis ghaDi raat chale,
aasmanon ka lahu pi ke siyah raat chale
marham-e-mushk liye, nashtar-e-almas liye
bain karti hui hansti hui gati nikle
dard ke kasni pazeb bajati nikle
jis ghaDi sinon mein Dube hue dil
aastinon mein nihan hathon ki rah takne lage
aas liye
aur bachchon ke bilakne ki tarah qulqul-e-mai
bahr-e-na-sudgi machle to manae na mane
jab koi baat banae na bane
jab na koi baat chale
jis ghaDi raat chale
jis ghaDi matami sunsan siyah raat chale
pas raho
mere qatil, mere dildar mere pas raho
Be Near Me
Be near me,
my sweet torment, my love, be near me.
The moment this night descends,
drunk on the blood of the sky, the black night descends,
drenched in musky fragrance, bearing a diamond lancet,
when the night descends—wailing, laughing, singing,
jingling the violet bells of pain;
when hearts buried in breasts,
wait for the hands hidden in sleeves,
and wait with hope;
and the wine bottle gurgles, like a wailing child seeking contentment,
and is not consoled;
when nothing works,
nothing moves,
when the night descends,
when the wailing, lonely, black night descends,
be near me,
my sweet torment, my love, be near me.
Source:
Nuskha Hai Wafa (Pg. 367)
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