The 3rd number great poet of Urdu in the sub-continent. Faiz was famous and most popular poet of his era, all over the India. He was born in Sialkot on 1914 during the rule of British of indo-pak. Faiz studied philosophy, journalism, English literature, Urdu literature but poetry and politics were his expertise subjects. He devoted him self in poetry later on after the completion of his studies and gave some great poetry to the community.

Faiz never bowed before the cruel rulers and has to suffer the jail in various times before the advent of Pakistan and after as well.

Faiz wrote on many topics including love, impressionism, culture, beauty, economics, etc but his main topics in poetry were always politics, justice, journalism and psychology as well as philosophy.

Some of his poems also reflect the spiritualism which makes the reader think, poetry was revealed but not thought by Faiz Ahmad Faiz.

Faiz Ahmad Faiz died on 1984 in Lahore and is buried in Sialkot.

Some of his beautiful poems are given below.

Loneliness

Loneliness like a good, old friend
visits my house to pour wine in the evening.
And we sit together, waiting for the moon,
and for your face to sparkle in every shadow.

Last Night

Last night your lost memory visited my heart
as spring visits the wilderness quietly,
as the breeze echoes the silence of her footfalls
in the desert,
as peace slowly, softly descends on one’s sickness.

Tonight

Do not strike the chord of sorrow tonight!
Days burning with pain turn to ashes.
Who knows what happens tomorrow?
Last night is lost; tomorrow’s frontier wiped out:
Who knows if there will be another dawn?
Life is nothing, it’s only tonight!
Tonight we can be what the gods are!

Do not strike the chord of sorrow, tonight!
Do not repeat stories of sufferings now,
Do not complain, let your fate play its role,
Do not think of tomorrows, give a damn–
Shed no tears for seasons gone by,
All sighs and cries wind up their tales,
Oh, do not strike the same chord again!

Speak

Speak, your lips are free.
Speak, it is your own tongue.
Speak, it is your own body.
Speak, your life is still yours.

See how in the blacksmith’s shop
The flame burns wild, the iron glows red;
The locks open their jaws,
And every chain begins to break.

Speak, this brief hour is long enough
Before the death of body and tongue:
Speak, ’cause the truth is not dead yet,
Speak, speak, whatever you must speak.

Stanza

If they snatch my ink and pen,
I should not complain,
For I have dipped my fingers
In the blood of my heart.
I should not complain
Even if they seal my tongue,
For every ring of my chain
Is a tongue ready to speak.

My Interview

The wall has grown all black, upto the circling roof.
Roads are empty, travellers all gone. Once again
My night begins to converse with its loneliness;
My visitor I feel has come once again.
Henna stains one palm, blood wets another;
One eye poisons, the other cures.

None leaves or enters my heart’s lodging;
Loneliness leaves the flower of pain unwatered,
Who is there to fill the cup of its wound with color?

My visitor I feel has come once again,
Of her own will, my old friend–her name
Is Death: a friend in need, yet an enemy–
The murderess and the sweetheart!

Translated by Azfar Hussain

This translation is subjected to copyright and can be used only for education purpose after the permission of Author, all rights all reserved for the author Azfar Hussain . For real Urdu poems you can visit faiz official page.

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