Book & Author
Mahmood Jamal: Faiz — Fifty Poems
By Dr Ahmed S. Khan
Chicago, IL
Faiz Ahmad Faiz (February 13, 1911 – November 20, 1984) is one of the greatest poets of the modern age. Dawning on the poetic horizon in the 1950s — Faiz Ahmad Faiz — over the next three decades evolved into an icon of freedom, revolution and love for the admirers of Urdu poetry all over the world.
His poetry — sung by prominent singers like Mehdi Hasan, Noor Jahan, Iqbal Bano, Nayera Noor and Ghulam Ali — got embedded into the cultural soul of Pakistan and represents the aspirations and dreams of millions around the world. Faiz Sahib’s poetry calms troubled hearts and pacifies perturbed souls viz a viz his resonating messages of freedom, humanity, revolution and love. In reality, Faiz Sahib’s poetry chronicles a nation’s dreams and hopes, and its agonies and its joys. Jamal Mahmood in — Faiz: Fifty Poems — has translated Faiz Sahib’s fifty poems — representing freedom, humanity, revolution and love — into English.
Mahmood Jamal (March 11, 1948 – December 23, 2020) was an author, poet, and filmmaker based in the UK. Born in Lucknow, UP, British India, Jamal was the second son of Maulana Jamal Mian of Farangi Mahal (d. 2012) and the grandson of Maulana Abdul Bari (d. 1926), a prominent leader of the Khilafat Movement. Firangi Mahal represents a scholarly Sufi family that promoted Islamic teachings and learnings. His mother, Asar Fatima, was the daughter of Shah Hayat Ahmed, the Sajjadah Nasheen of Rudauli Shareef in Bara Banki, Awadh.
Jamal received his education at St Mary’s School, Lucknow, and after the independence of Pakistan, the family moved to Dhaka, East Pakistan, and later to Karachi.
Jamal was a prolific writer, film producer and a passionate poet. His poetry collections include Silence Inside a Gun’s Mouth (1984), Song of the Flute (1995), Sugar-Coated Pill (2007), Stars (2020) and The Dream and Other Poems (2020). He also produced several volumes of translations from Urdu into English: the Penguin Book of Modern Urdu Poetry (1980), Islamic Mystical Poetry (2009), Faiz 50 Poems (2011), and prior to his passing away he was working on ‘Iqbal 50 Poems’. An award-winning filmmaker, he has produced a film (Rahm, 2016, Urdu, based on William Shakespeare's play Measure for Measure), several documentaries and television programs. He was the main writer on Family Pride, Britain’s first Asian soap, and he has also penned and produced the groundbreaking television drama Turning World (1996) for Channel 4 in the UK.
Faiz — Fifty Poems has two parts: first presents translations and second transliterations. In the preface, the author recalls his introduction to Faiz: “My first introduction to Faiz Ahmad Faiz's poetry was through the medium of radio and the haunting voice of Mehdi Hassan singing Gulun Mein RangBhare. I was in my late teens, living with my parents in Dhaka, East Pakistan. Though I was brought up on classical Urdu poetry, and Urdu poetry was no stranger to me, I had never heard of Faiz's poetry except for one other famous poem of his, again through the medium of radio—Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat, sung by Noor Jahan…I left for England in 1967 in pursuit of a qualification in accountancy. Four years later, East Pakistan became Bangladesh and I had become a poet! It was in the turbulent period of the early seventies, in London, that I reencountered Faiz's poetry through left wing friends and mentors—chief among whom was Sulaiman Bhai (Raja Sahib of Mahmudabad), the first person I remember who I heard reciting Faiz: Aajzee seekhi ghareebon ki himayat seekhi Yaas o hirmaan kay dukh dard ke maani seekhay! tai daston kay masaaib ko smajhna seekha Sard aahon kay, rukh-e-zard ke maani seekhay! That inspired me to go and buy Victor Kiernan's book on Faiz published by UNESCO...”
Expounding on the process of translation, the author notes: “Translation as an art has its weaknesses, but it does concentrate your mind on the meaning of what you are translating and forces you to evaluate what you are about to translate in a very different light from the original—which may also be a strength. It makes you question the substance of every poem you translate and examine its significance aesthetically, emotionally, and critically. At the same time, it forces you to question your own integrity and adequacy as a poet or writer — a very revealing exercise with many pitfalls…In these translations I have kept two things in mind. First, that the poems read as poems in English, and secondly, that they do not deviate too far from the meanings and intent of the original.”
Reflecting on the grandeur of Faiz’s poetry, the author observes: “In the course of writing my book on Urdu poetry, I became aware of the stature of Faiz. It became clear to me that he stood like a giant in the landscape of Urdu poetry of the twentieth century, perhaps only dwarfed by Iqbal. However, the world they encountered was vastly different and they responded differently to it. There were others, like N. M. Rashed who were perhaps more modernist in their approach, yet Faiz's poetry and its quiet charm has rarely been superseded since he came on the scene. Faiz as a poet was a traditionalist with a modern message which is not to say that he did not innovate, but his innovations were few and his main concerns were aesthetic beauty and his message, rather than experimentation with new forms. His poetry was modern, but he was not in literary terms a modernist like N. M. Rashed.”
Discussing the grace and eloquence of Faiz’s persona, and meeting him for the first time, the author observes: “It was also during the writing of my book that I first met Faiz Sahib in person in London. Our conversation was brief. We were introduced and I asked his permission to translate his poems which he was gracious enough to grant to me. I then attended a few functions in his honor and met him again at Urdu Markaz through Iftikhar Arif and what always impressed me about his personality was a certain serenity that comes with confidence and a certain humility which comes with knowledge and wisdom. What immediately endears one to a person like that is his quietness, gentleness, and his matter-of-fact attitude. The personality of Faiz is reflected in his poetry. It is not loud; it doesn't scream out. It seduces, inspires, bewitches with a quiet word almost whispered in one's ear, deep and sonorous and profound. Faiz Sahib's style of recitation was equally gentle but never failed to make an impact. His quiet, unassuming manner of recital made one focus on the words and reflect on the beauty of his verse, of which there are few equals in modern Urdu poetry or indeed in world poetry.”
Remembering a memorable interaction with Faiz, the author states: “I never managed to have a long or even a short conversation with Faiz Sahib as I met him in public gatherings or private parties where he was always surrounded by well-wishers and admirers. However, I managed to ask Faiz Sahib one serious question at a party at Mr Humayun Gauhar's flat in London. `Why,' I asked Faiz Sahib, 'was it that Latin America was producing great thinkers and intellectuals and writers when South Asia seemed relatively barren in spite of having such a huge civilization?' Faiz Sahib …thought for a minute, then said very quietly, almost whispered in my ear: 'Hum log bik bahut jaldi jatey hain' ( We are sold too easily). Having said that, he moved on into the gathering to mingle with others. His words have echoed in my ears for over twenty-five years and remain alas, true today!”
Observing the fact that Faiz Sahib’s poetry provided a nexus to Pakistan, the author notes: “By the time my book was published in 1986, Faiz Sahib had returned to Lahore and had passed away. These were dark days for Pakistan… But in the UK, where I lived and indeed in Pakistan, where my heart dwelt, it was still adored and read by millions. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Faiz's poetry connected me emotionally to Pakistan and its culture and politics. The centenary of his birth is being celebrated all over the world by lovers of Faiz and of Urdu poetry and it is as a celebration and a tribute that I see this translation of some of his greatest poems."
The following samples of translation of Faiz Sahib’s poetry reveal the high fidelity and class of Jamal’s craft.
LAST NIGHT YOUR LOST MEMORY
Last night your lost memory Came to me
As spring comes quietly upon a wilderness
As a cool breeze Blows gently across desert sands
As a sick man Without reason, finds relief.
SCENE
Silence weighs upon the world
A stream of pain flows through the skies
The moon's lament of shimmering light
Gets lost in the dusty highways of the night
The sleepy abodes descend into darkness
And from the strings of life
A sweet sad melody flows.
WE THE PEOPLE
Carrying half-lit lamps in heart's hallways
Frightened of the sunlight, tired weary
Hugging our darkness like a lost memory
Of some sweet forgotten face.
Profit and Loss, beginning and end,
The same futile struggle, the profitless questioning.
Exhausted by today's empty moments
Sad at yesterday's memories, paralyzed by fear of tomorrow.
The thirsty thoughts that find no release
Burning tears that do not rise into our eyes
A terrible pain that cannot turn to song
Refuses to emerge from the dark crevices of our hearts
And a confused crazy search for a cure
The desire for desert, prison and uncontrolled madness!
HIGHWAY
A weary broad highway runs
Its eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
Spreading its grey beauty like a sheet
Over the cold dust collected on its breast.
Like some sad and forlorn woman
Lost in thought in her lonely abode
Thinking of her absent lover
Exhausted to the core, broken, weary.
SOMETIMES VAGUELY
Sometimes vaguely stir the signs of memories past
That struggle of the heart, those intimacies, those distances
Sometimes in desire's desert stop the caravans
with singing bells
All those words so full of love and those
subjects dealing with union.
Oh restless heart, the passion and the pain remain the same
Each time I meet her, I fall in love again.
This lonely pleasure is hard at times, at others easy
That hidden sorrow which earned the sympathy of the world!
Tell me what difference there is
Between the Censor and the Drunkard?
One has risen from the tavern
And the other has come into it!
MEMORY
In this desert loneliness of mine
I sense the echoes of your voice
The mirages of your moving lips
Which shimmer shadow-like.
In this desert of loneliness,
On the dust and grime are blossoming
The flowers of your warm embrace.
Somewhere very close to me I feel the warmth
Of your life-giving breath,
Smoldering gently in its fragrance sweet.
And in the distant beyond the horizon gently falls
The loving dew from your beguiling eyes.
Your memory with such love has placed
Its hand upon my heart
I feel that though we're far apart
The day of longing is already over
It's evening and I am united with you.
MY WINDOW
There are so many crosses
Planted by my window
Each carrying its own Christ
Each yearning to meet his God.
On some the spring is sacrificed
On some the moon lies crucified
On some the fruitful branch is blinded
On some the morning breeze is slaughtered.
Each passing day
These blood-laced visions
Come into my mind.
Each passing day, in front of me
Their martyred bodies are
Resurrected.
[Montgomery Jail December 1954]
FOR THOSE PALESTINIANS MARTYRED IN FOREIGN LANDS
Sweet earth of Palestine,
Wherever I went
Carrying the burning scars of your humiliation,
Nursing in my heart the longing
To make you proud,
Your love, your memories went with me,
The fragrance of your orange groves went with me.
A crowd of unseen friends stood by me
And so many hands clasped mine.
In distant lands, on dark lanes,
In alien cities, on nameless streets,
Wherever the banner of my blood unfurled,
I've left a Palestinian flag.
Your enemies destroyed one Palestine;
My wounds created many more.
[— Beirut, 1980]
THEY WERE THE LUCKY ONES
They were the lucky ones,
Who took loving as a task
Or just loved their work.
I was rather busy too in my own way
I loved a little, worked a little.
The work disrupted my loving
And love often came in the way of work.
Finally I was fed up
And left both unfinished.
[— 1976]
IF MY SORROW FINDS A VOICE
My sorrow is an unsung song
My being without trace
If my sorrow finds a voice
I will find my rightful place.
If I find the trace of my being
I will find the secret of seeing
If I find this secret that is hidden
My silence will turn eloquent
I will rule the universe
And gain the treasures of both worlds!
[- 1972]
TRAVELERS
We travelers, we shall go on traveling
When we run out of places we will rest!
How mournful will it be for faithful lovers
When that day comes when we forget you
The bazaars of poetry are being closed
Where shall we go and sell our pearls?
Never shall we pay that debt of nature's bounty
No matter how much we desire death to escape it!
Faiz, we face the hardships in love's troubled path
Tell those who follow, we are on our way!
NOTHING LEFT
At times like these it seems there's nothing left
No moon, no sun, no night, nor day!
No beauty filters through the eye's window
No secret sorrow hiding in the sanctuary of the heart
Perhaps it was all a dream, something only heard
The footsteps falling in the late of night
Perhaps no dreams will ever alight
On the branches of my tree of thought
No feuds, no friendships, all connection lost
No one is yours, no yours is mine!
It's true this desolate moment is hard to bear
But O my heart, it's only a moment that will pass
Take heart! There is a lifetime yet to live!
[— Mayo Hospital, Lahore, March 4, 1982]
Mahmood Jamal has done a wonderful job of translating Faiz Sahib’s fifty classic poems into English. His work retains the themes and meanings of Faiz Sahib’s poetic expressions — of freedom, humanity, revolution and love — which continue to provide solace for the troubled hearts and peace for the perturbed souls of millions around the world — in these challenging and testing times!
