इकतारा // Iktara
A Translation.
ओ रे मनवा तू तो बावरा है
तू ही जाने तू क्या सोचता है
तू ही जाने तू क्या सोचता है, बावरे
क्यों दिखाए सपने तू सोते जागते?
Oh heart of mine, you know no reason.
I cannot understand how
you think what you do, or why.
Your taunting is constant; you tease
with tantalizing snatches of
impossible dreams - whether
I'm aware, awake, or asleep.
जो बरसे सपने बूँद-बूँद , नैनों को मूँद-मूँद
कैसे मैं चलूँ? देख ना सकूँ अनजाने रास्ते।
These images, these visions
Make my eyes shut as they descend,
drop by drop, and I stumble in the dark,
and look inside my heart for answers
How I can tread with confidence
on paths I cannot see?
गूंजा सा है कोई इकतारा,
धीमे बोले कोई इकतारा।
Somewhere, an Iktara's melody echoes.
Somewhere it softly plays, soothing
restless hands, and restless hearts,
and keeping dying dreams warm.
सुन रही हूँ सुध बुध खोके कोई मैं कहानी
पूरी कहानी है क्या, किसे है पता?
मैं तो किसी के होक, ये भी न जानी
रुत है ये दो पल की या रहेगी सदा--
किसे है पता?
I am listening to this story that is
slowly unwinding in our midst
and losing all consciousness,
all control. I cannot discern
whether these are half-finished
fragments of some melody,
or a symphony - complete and perfect -
of which I can hear no more than mere strains.
You are taking more and more of me and
yet I do not feel the ache of the loss -
Is this ephemeral? Will it last forever?
I do not know, I do not know.
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