( English Translation of Majzoob's Poem: Taroogi Ta تاروګي ته):
In the gentle vernal breeze, always bobbing up and down,
In a wild search of flowers, you fleet about in the fields,
Oblivious to all worries, like a child you prance about.
In a meadow of fresh flowers, you glide about,
Like a hourie strutting about in paradise,
Like drifting stars, twinkling here and there.
Your only concern is darting from flower to flower,
Peeping into the hearts of flowers, how strange is your job!
How ecstatic your soul must be! How lucky you are!
The flower, always, holds up the mirror of dew for you,
Fluffing up her bosom, longing to hold you in her embrace.
Her heart tingling with desire for you, but unable to voice her wish.
Must have you clasped and tickled countless yellow mustard flowers,
Must have viewed and counted the spots deep in the tulips!
God Knows! How many beauties you must have you kissed in your age short!
Despite savouring these delights galore, tight-lipped you are,
Holding a pack of secrets, you don’t confide in anybody,
All your delights, all your raptures, you lodge deep in your heart.
O the floral sprite, have you descended from the Caucasus?
Or sprang up from nearby meadow you little moth?
In your joyous life, you must not have experienced any sorrow!
Listen! O dainty one, listen! Bother a little for me,
With love, transport me with you, up above me,
Joyous you are and be joyful always! Let me jocund in your company!
Getting mired deeper day by day in the swamp of sorrows,
Dulled by the growing tedium of life at every moment,
The older I grow, the heavier grows the load of sins.
Gone are the days when I was a child like you,
You must remember the times when I was younger, a child,
Nimble, I sprinted after you in the fields of mustard.
Don’t be mistaken by my youth, outwardly I might look strong,
You might be beguiled by my appearance but old I have grown,
Heartlessness of the rose-cheeked has wrung the life out of me.
(Rendered into English by Aslam Mir on 23.6.2020)
Perfect and wonderful
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