This is Shakil badayuni’s famous ghazal. It is in very simple language and can be related to by us all.
I like the translation offered by ‘Rekhta’ very much, as it is it self poetry. Never the less I would take liberty to expand a little here and there.
The link to ‘Rekhta” is
First listen to it by Begum Akhtar
- O my friend, though we breathe together and our voices echo together, please do not betray me feigning friendship.
The burning love has brought me near death, do not if you will wish me well.
- My wounded soul glows and the light it emits keeps me alive,
I fear you, though my healer, might end up blowing the flame out.
- O my healer, leave me alone if you will, I have little confidence in your healing
Your brief attention might actually cause my malady to worsen.
- (Here a bulbul (bird) is speaking, worried about the garden which is her abode) I am confident that any fire from outside will not touch it, but I have a real fear that the “fire” from the roses might ignite and burn down the garden.
- Lo and behold the beloved is ready to dispense favour, O Shakil, where are you,
What is yours might be usurped by someone else I fear.
[Literally: Where are you O Shakil, Your lover is up, ready with wine and cup,
I fear that the peg of wine which is yours someone else might put a hand on it.]