And then a day will come
When the light in my eyes will turn off
And the lotus like hands, wither
And these faces, blooming all around me
Sink in the dark dark sea,
The singing of the heart, the tingling in the blood
Will cease to be
And this earth, this paradise of mine,
Shining like a diamond on the blue expanse
And all the mornings and the evenings
Will, on a speck of dust, called ‘man’
Knowing not why
Like the dew drops cry.
From the repertoire of memories
Everything will disappear
And there will be none to enquire
Where is he gone?
But I will come back again,
In the form of the song of the sparrow
And a child’s lisp,
When the seeds sprout and gently break through the top soil,
On every leaf, on every flower
I will appear
In the colour of henna,
In the rhythm of songs
And when the winter winds
Herald the end of autumn
Through the dry leaves under the passer-by’s feet,
I will laugh
All the golden streams on the earth
And all the blue lakes in the sky
Will, with my being be filled
And the whole world will see
That every story is my story
And every beloved, my beloved here.
I am a restless drop
Ever on the move
In the heart of the past, I sleep
And in the chalice of the future awake
And awake and sleep again.
I die and become immortal.
This game is many centuries old.
- Translation of an urdu poem ‘Mera Safar’ (My Journey) by Sardar Jafri