Shamm-E-Mazaar Thi Na Koi Sogwaar Tha

शम्म-ए-मज़ार थी ना कोई सोगवार था,
तुम जिस पे रो रहे थे वो किसका मज़ार था ।

तड़पूँगा उम्र भर दिल-ए-मर्हुम के लिये,
कम्बख़्त नामुराद लड़कपन का यार था ।

जादू है या तिलिस्म तुम्हारी ज़ुबान में,
तुम झूठ कह रहे थे मुझे ऐतबार था ।

क्या क्या हमारे सज़दे की रूसवाईयाँ हुई,
नक़्श-ए-क़दम किसी का सरे रह-गुज़ार था ।

---Bekhud Dehlvi

Like you (Como tu)

I, like you,
love love, life, the sweet delight
of things, the blue
landscape of January days.

Also my blood bubbles over
laughing through my eyes
which have known the rush of tears.

I believe the world is beautiful,
that poetry is, like bread, for everyone.

And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
things,
countryside and bread,
poetry for everyone.

---Roque Dalton

Yo, como tú,

amo el amor, la vida, el dulce encanto

de las cosas, el paisaje

celeste de los días de enero.

También mi sangre bulle

y río por los ojos

que han conocido el brote de las lágrimas.

Creo que el mundo es bello,

que la poesía es como el pan, de todos.

Y que mis venas no terminan en mí

sino en la sangre unánime

de los que luchan por la vida,

el amor,

las cosas,

el paisaje y el pan,

la poesía de todos.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

---William Wordsworth