Afzal A. Khan
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Naazireen-e-giraami,
IIRC, I had posted Urdu renditions of English poems on
two occasions in the past :
1. The Cataract of Lodore by Robert Southey.
Urdu Rendition by Akbar Ilaahabadi.
2. Ode To The West Wind by P.B. Shelley.
Urdu Rendition by Qudratullah Shahaab.
Unfortunately, I cannot access these two threads.......
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Today, I would like to share with our friends another such
poem......
The English poet in this case is Alfred, Lord Tennyson....
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First, a few words about Lord Tennyson, for the information
of those who may not be very familiar with him and his poetry.
He was born on the 6th August, 1809 in Somersby, Lincolnshire,
England and passed away on the 6th October 1892, at the age of
83 years.
After Wordsworth's death in 1850, Lord Tennyson was appointed
as the Poet Laureate of England, and he held this position till
his death.
One of his most famous poems is the "Charge Of The Light Brigade".
It commemorates the bravery of a brigade of British Light Cavalry
during the Battle of Balaclava, in October 1854, during the Crimean
War.
A few lines from the above poem :
Cannon to right of them
Cannon to left of them
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd
All the world wonder'd
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Tennyson was offered a baronetcy in 1865, and again in 1868, by
the then British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli. But, on both
occasions, he declined this honour. When Disraeli was succeeded
by Gladstone, the offer was repeated --- and this time, he
accepted the honour, but only after very earnest solicitation by
the new Prime Minister.
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Some of his most famous poetical works include "The Lotos-Eaters".
"The Lady of Shalott", Locksley Hall", "Ulysses", "Maud", "Enoch
Arden", "Idylls of the King", "In Memoriam A.H.H." etc.
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In 1847, Tennyson published a long, narrative poem "The Princess".
Canto V of this poem contains the following lines :
Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
She must weep or she will die.'
Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.
Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior slept,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.
Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee--
Like summer tempest came her tears--
'Sweet my child, I live for thee'.
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And here is the Urdu rendition of the above lines
from Lord Tennyson's poem :
Jab laaye ghar men laasha us maah ke saf~shikan ka
Nikli na aah, bigRa naqsha na gul~badan ka
Kehne lageeN KHwaaseN, yooN us se hum~zabaaN ho
"Ya haath jaaN se dho le, ya maail-e-fuGHaaN ho"
Be~daKHl in sabhoN ne mar'hoom ko saraaha
"Kya KHoob aad'mi tha, wallah kya jawaaN tha
Tha dosti men pakka, aur dushmani men poora"
Is par bhi seem~tan ko jun(b)ish huwi na asla
Phir ek pesh~KHidmat, apni jagah se uTh'kar
Aayee dabe qadam se, laasha tha jis jagah par
MooNh par jo nau~jawaaN ke chaadar bhi ki 'alaih'da
Biwi ki aaNkh se par nikla na phir bhi qatra
AaKhir ik aayee uTh kar, nawwe baras ki buRh'ya
Zaanu pe us ne us ke bach'che ko la biThaaya
Beh nikle aaNsoo fauran, mazlooma yooN pukaari
"Mere yateem bach'che, ammaN ho tujh pe waari"
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Afzal