پېښور او کابل دواړه دوه ياران دي Kabul and Peshawar Are the Closest of Friends

پېښور او کابل دواړه دوه ياران دي

پېښور او کابل دواړه دوه ياران دي
لکه دوې سترګې په يو مخ د جانان دي
 
ما چې ووژني ځواني او ژوندون راکړي
که د دغه که د هغه ښار خوبان دي
 
پښتانه په خپلو ټکو کې معنا دي
خوشبويۍ دي په ولاړه کې روان دي
 
د دنيا د ابادۍ دعوې دروغ دي
چې تر څو د پښتنو کورونه وران دي
 
زرکې زرکې تورې تورې بلا سترګې
چارچاپېره رانه څومره قاتلان دي
 
ګوټ پېرونه د مکېشو لوپټې کړئ
تماشې ته ولاړ ستوري د اسمان دي
 
په بڼو يې اوښکې ستوري ستوري کيږي
ژړېدلي ښاپيري د روهستان دي
 
د بېلتون په غولي وير دى او ژړا ده
سبا بيا لوبې د زړونو په دامان دي
 
پېغامونه د خالونو د خوبونو
تصويرونه د ګلونو د باران دي
 
لا پرې نه دي نرګسى غوټۍ ګل شوي
لولکۍ يې بڼېدلې په ګرېوان دي
 
د غمجنې نغمې خوږ زړه د کتو دى
چې خوبان يې د خوبونو بنديوان دي
 
محبت نه دی قدم په قدم اور دى
څه لمبې د انتظار څه د هجران دي
 
ستا د زلفو د سايې په ارمان پايي
د سايل د ژوند غرمې په بيابان دي
 

Kabul and Peshawar Are the Closest of Friends

Kabul and Peshawar are the closest of friends,
as intimate as the two eyes of the beloved.
 
In both cities dwell women renowned for their heartbreaking beauty –
and yet when they slay me with desire, she also enlivens me with youth.
 
The Pashtoons are marks inscribed on a page that cleave into eloquent words –
a pungent scent that  travels  far from its source.
 
Claims of the world’s prosperity are lies
while the homes of the Pashtoons lie in ruins.
 
With piercing, black and predatory eyes –
how many murderers circle around me?
 
The stars in the heavens long for their reflection –
when streets are adorned with sequinned chadors.
 
The beautiful girls of the Pashtoon lands
weep tears that, like stars, glisten on their eyelashes.
 
Grief and tears litter the zone of separation.
Yet tomorrow, hearts will be gladdened by the joy of reunion.
 
Beauty spots that intimate dreams and desires,
Pictures of petals that rain down like confetti.
 
Although the buds of narcissi are not yet opened,
butterflies already have brushed their lips.
 
At each step, love is an inferno –
first the fire of longing, then the flames of separation.
 
Each noon of Sayel’s life is lived out in the desert.
He lives only to find the cool shadow of your hair.
 
Peshawar and Kabul are two friends
Like two eyes on the face of the one beloved.
 
By killing me, they give me life and youth/make me alive and young
Whether/be they are the beloveds of this city (Peshawar) or that city (Kabul).
 
The Pashtoons are (like) meaningful words
They are like scent; travelling/moving/mobile while fixed/static.
 
The slogans/claims of world’s prosperity/progress are (mere) lies/false
As long as/until the homes of the Pashtoons are ruined/lie in ruins. 
 
Piercing/penetrating/sharp, black, (and) predatory eyes
How many killers have surrounded me/ are all around me?
 
Make the streets ornamented with chadors embroidered with silver threads
The stars in the sky are waiting for (such) a spectacle.
 
Their eyelashes are wet with tears like glittering/sparkling stars
The fairies (maidens/pretty girls) of the Pashtoon land have wept (due to hardships of war).
 
Grief/mourn and cries/tears are scattered/spread over the yard/realm of separation
Tomorrow shall again witness/see the games/recreation on the plains/fields of hearts.
 
The messages of beauty spots and the dreams/hopes/wishes/longings
The images/paintings/pictures of raining flowers.
 
The buds of narcissi have not blossomed yet
(But) The butterflies have flown over/touched their chests.
 
The wounded/aching heart of the tragic/sad song is worth seeing (the song is imprisoned)
The beloveds/sweethearts are dreaming of hearing it/longing to hear it.
 
Love is not but a fire on every step/stage
Some are flames of waiting (and/while) some of separation.
 
(He) survives on the hope of finding the shade of your tresses/hair/locks
The (high) noons of Sa’il’s life are out (spent) on the desert/plains. 
 

The poet, Rahmat Shah Sayel, is a political activist campaigning through his poetry for the rights of his fellow Pashtoons. Pashtoons (Pakhtoons/Pakhtuns), also known as Afghans, Pathans, are the largest ethnic group in Afghanistan and the second biggest in Pakistan.

Historically, the Pashtoon inhabited areas of today’s Pakistan were part of Afghanistan. In 1893, the British colonialists forced the King of Afghanistan to surrender these strategic territories, which were then included in British India – at least on paper.

The Pashtoons showed some of the toughest resistance to the British Raj in the Indian sub-continent and fought bravely for freedom and rights both militarily and politically. The Khudai Khidmatgar Movement (meaning the servants of God,) represented a non-violent struggle against the British Empire by the Pashtoons in the North-West Frontier Province (with Peshawar as its capital) of British India. The Movement was founded and led by Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan (known locally as Bacha Khan or Badshah Khan) who was also called “the Frontier Gandhi” due to his non-violent approach and philosophy.

After the partition of India in 1947, these Pashtoon areas incorporated in British India became part of the newly created state of Pakistan. Since the creation of Pakistan in 1947, the struggle for the rights of the Pashtoons living inside the country has continued in different ways.

Pashtoon ethno-nationalist politicians in Pakistan complain that they have been oppressed and exploited by successive Pakistani governments and that they have been deliberately held back. They also criticise the Pakistani state for “violating” their political, economic and cultural rights. But Pakistani government officials usually reject these allegations. Some Pashtoon nationalists have even called for the re-unification of all the Pashtoon territories (today’s Afghanistan and Pashtoon inhabited parts of Pakistan) in one state.

In the 1980s, the Pashtoon region in Pakistan was used as a launchpad to wage Jihad against the occupying Soviet forces in Afghanistan. As a result, militancy and violence increased in the region. In recent years, the Pashtoon areas in both Afghanistan and Pakistan have become a major theatre of the US-led ‘War on Terror’.

Dawood Azami, Literal Translator

This beautiful ghazal by Rahmat Shah Sayel, was, in parts, very difficult to translate. The ghazal is a verse form that first developed in Arabic but which arguably reached its peak in the ghazals of the great poet Ghalib (1797 – 1869), the preeminent Indian Urdu and Persian-language poet during the last years of the Mughal Empire.

The ghazal a genre/form in which poets usually talk about love. Each couplet is different from the other and stands alone. But this ghazal has a single mood as all couplets have the same theme.

Ghazals are made up of between five and 25 couplets, each one of which is complete in itself. The couplets are linked by mood, rather than forming an unfolding narrative. In the original, the couplets are also connected by rhyme: if you look at the Pashto poem, you’ll notice that the final word of both lines of the first couplet, and then the final line of each couplet, is the same. We didn’t attempt to impose a rhyme-scheme on this poem which would have sacrificed the delicacy of the poem to a mechanical sound.

For clarity, I’ve numbered the notes to each couplet.

1. Title: The subject of the poem is the inviolable connection between Kabul (in present-day Afghanistan) and Peshawar (in present-day Pakistan) for the Pashtoon people. Before the British invasion, Kabul was the summer, and Peshawar the winter, capital of Afghanistan. Traditionally, ghazals don’t have titles, instead they’re known by their first line, as we’ve done here.

2. The second couplet was difficult to get into English because we don’t (anymore) talk about being killed by love, whereas this is a common sentiment in Pashto poetry. However, we do use the term ‘heartbreaking’ as a metaphor which seems close to the Pastoon. ‘Slays’ is a less bald word than ‘kills’ that allows for a more poetic and suggestive meaning

3. Again, for conceptual reasons, this couplet was very tricky. In the first line, Sayel is saying that the Pashtoon people are like words that consist of letters but in reality have a meaning/essence; they look dead but their meaning makes them alive. He then follows it by another metaphor comparing them to a scent that travels far from its source.

4. This couplet was very easy – in comparison! The word-play of ‘lies’ (an untruth and to lie down) was an added bonus that sometimes happens in translation into English.

5. I changed ‘murderers surround me’ to ‘murderers circle around me’ because of the sense of movement (I also thought of vultures circling above).

6. The difficulty with this couplet was finding a way to make it compact. In Dawood’s literal version the chadors are embroidered with silver thread; I changed this to ‘sequinned chadors’ both for reasons of concision and to get the star-like ‘flash’ that sequins make.

7. Another couplet with concrete imagery that made it much simpler to get into English.

8. I changed the ‘realm or place’ of separation to ‘zone’ which makes it sound more alien and forbidding

9. I started off with ‘signal’ – which sounded too emphatic – in the first line and later changed it to ‘intimate’ because it’s more subtle and suggestive, like a beauty spot.

10. The botanist in me got slightly hung up on the fact that narcissi bloom long before butterflies arrive but, in the end, I allowed Sayel poetic leeway.

11. I’ve added in the narrative progression of the second line – from ‘first’ to ‘then’ because concrete details work best in English.

12. We reversed the lines in the final couplet because – for those of us brought up in northern Europe – the idea of a shadow being desirable needed the prompting of the desert climate.

Sarah Maguire, Workshop Facilitator

Original Poem by

Rahmat Shah Sayel

Translated by

Dawood Azami with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Pashto

Country

Afghanistan