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Koshur Music

An Introduction to Spoken Kashmiri

Matrimonial

 
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nunda bani dilbar Myaani ..... 

    How shall I tell you, O beautiful one,
    A Heemaal, enmeshed in your love,
    Is pining, wasting away for you -
    O Naagiray, how shall I tell you ?

    Sweet thrush, you've hidden in distant woods
    While, like the wild Jessamine's,
    My bloom is falling off, petal by petal -
    How shall I tell you ?

    I waited like a patient glacier,
    Melting with yearning for you;
    At last, grown desperate, I hurled myself
    Into the Ganga of love.

    Since you were in breathless haste, I couldn't
    See your face or pour out my heart,
    But stood speechless, with floods of tears
    Streaming from my eyes.

    'Lose, if you would find !' Realizing this,
    My heart became Rama, subduing Ravana,
    And the Lanka of all my fears
    Was burnt down to ashes.

    Beloved, you showed no compunction
    When you placed me on the rack
    And left, warning me that no one ever
    Should learn about my fate.

    Breezes stole into beauty's world,
    Causing ripples of desire;
    Long tresses are still a-tremble,
    And O ! the havoc in my heart !

    O breeze of love ! why do you tease
    The simple rose of my heart ?
    You've made the hawk neighbour to the bulbul -
    How shall I tell you ?

    Which jealous dame has won your ear
    To make me lose your love ?
    You were always guided by others' views -
    How shall I tell you ?

    I've come to offer you all I have -
    The pieces of a broken heart.
    Alas ! like the masval. that's all I have ! -
    How shall I tell you ?

    I've been fading away like the morning dew
    From the day you drifted away,
    When I had a long lingering look at you
    And reeled - 0, how shall I tell you ?

    I would gaze long at the path you took
    But they are watching my eyes.
    I hear they're going to put a watch
    Soon over my beating heart.

    O rose-faced beloved, forsaking me,
    You turned your heart to others,
    On worthless thorns you lavished love -
    How shall I tell you ?

    Mahjoor, in his own wistful way,
    Says this to his childhood friend:
    You've exalted stature, high esteem -
    O, how shall I tell you ?

 

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