The Dawn of Freedom (August 1947)

By Faiz Ahmed Faiz 

These tarnished rays, this night-smudged light —

This is not that Dawn for which, ravished with freedom,

we had set out in sheer longing,

so sure that somewhere in its desert the sky harbored

a final haven for the stars, and we would find it.

We had no doubt that night’s vagrant wave would stray

towards the shore,

that the heart rocked with sorrow would at last reach its port.

Friends, our blood shaped its own mysterious roads.

When hands tugged at our sleeves, enticing us to stay,

and from wondrous chambers Sirens cried out

with their beguiling arms, with their bare bodies,

our eyes remained fixed on that beckoning Dawn,

forever vivid in her muslins of transparent light.

Our blood was young — what could hold us back?

Now listen to the terrible rampant lie:

Light has forever been severed from the Dark;

our feet, it is heard, are now one with their goal.

See our leaders polish their manner clean of our suffering:

Indeed, we must confess only to bliss;

we must surrender any utterance for the Beloved — all yearning

is outlawed.

But the heart, the eye, the yet deeper heart —

Still ablaze for the Beloved, their turmoil shines.

In the lantern by the road the flame is stalled for news:

Did the morning breeze ever come?  Where has it gone?

Night weighs us down, it still weighs us down.

Friends, come away from this false light.  Come, we must

search for that promised Dawn.

Translation by Agha Shahid. This translation was first published in Annual of Urdu

Studies 11 (1996), now made available by MINDS@UW under a Creative Commons license.

See, also, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, “A Few Days More.”

About Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Born in India and considered the leading poet on the South Asian subcontinent, Faiz Ahmed Faiz (1911-1984)

was a two-time Nobel nominee and winner of the 1962 Lenin Peace Prize. His evening readings in Hindi/Urdu-

speaking regions drew thousands of listeners. Associated with the Communist party in his youth, Faiz became

an outspoken poet in opposition to the Pakistani government. He was also a professor of English literature, a

distinguished editor and a major figure in the Afro-Asian writer's movement. This volume offers a selection of

Faiz's poetry in a bilingual Urdu/English edition with a new introduction by poet and translator Agha Shahid

Ali.

Faiz Ahmed Faiz is widely regarded as the greatest Urdu poet of the twentieth century and the iconic

voice of a generation. He is best remembered for his revolutionary verses that decried tyranny and called

for justice. In his poem, Subh-e-Azadi, he expressed the anguish and disappointment of Partition and the
cost that the Indian subcontinent paid for freedom from the British rule.

Subh‐e Azadi

Yeh daagh daagh ujaalaa, yeh shab gazidaa seher

Woh intezaar tha jiska, yeh woh seher to nahin

Yeh woh seher to nahin, jis ki aarzoo lekar

Chale the yaar ki mil jaayegi kahin na kahin

Falak ke dasht mein taaron ki aakhri manzil

Kahin to hogaa shab-e-sust mauj ka saahil

Kahin to jaa ke rukegaa safinaa-e-gham-e-dil

Jawaan lahu ki pur-asraar shahraahon se

Chale jo yaar to daaman pe kitne haath pade

Dayaar-e-husn ki besabr kwaabgaahon se

Pukaarti rahi baahein, badan bulaate rahe

Bahut aziz thi lekin rukh-e-seher ki lagan

Bahut qareen tha haseenaa-e-noor ka daaman

Subuk subuk thi tamanna, dabi dabi thi thakan

Suna hai, ho bhi chukaa hai firaaq-e-zulmat-o-noor

Suna hai, ho bhi chukaa hai wisaal-e-manzil-o-gaam

Badal chukaa hai bahut ehl-e-dard ka dastoor

Nishaat-e-wasl halaal, o azaab-e-hijr haraam

Jigar ki aag, nazar ki umang, dil ki jalan

Kisi pe chaaraa-e-hijraan ka kuch asar hi nahin

Kahaan se aayi nigaar-e-sabaa, kidhar ko gayi

Abhi charaag-e-sar-e-raah ko kuch khabar hi nahin

Abhi garaani-e-shab mein kami nahin aayi

Najaat-e-deedaa-o-dil ki ghadi nahin aayi

Chale chalo ki woh manzil abhi nahin aayi

  —Faiz Ahmed Faiz

The Dawn of Freedom, August 1947

  This light, smeared and spotted, this night‐bitten dawn

This isn’t surely the dawn we waited for so eagerly

This isn’t surely the dawn with whose desire cradled in our hearts

We had set out, friends all, hoping

We should somewhere find the final destination

Of the stars in the forests of heaven

The slow‐rolling night must have a shore somewhere

The boat of the afflicted heart’s grieving will drop anchor somewhere

When, from the mysterious paths of youth’s hot blood

The young fellows moved out

Numerous were the hands that rose to clutch

the hems of their garments,

Open arms called, bodies entreated

From the impatient bedchambers of beauty—

But the yearning for the dawn’s face was too dear
The hem of the radiant beauty’s garment was very close

The load of desire wasn’t too heavy

Exhaustion lay somewhere on the margin

It’s said the darkness has been cleft from light already

It’s said the journeying feet have found union

with the destination

The protocols of those who held the pain in their

hearts have changed now

Joy of union—yes; agony of separation—forbidden!

The burning of the liver, the eyes’ eagerness, the heart’s grief

Remain unaffected by this cure for disunion’s pain;

From where did the beloved, the morning breeze come?

Where did it go?

The street‐lamp at the edge of the road has no notion yet

The weight of the night hasn’t lifted yet

The moment for the emancipation of the eyes

and the heart hasn’t come yet

Let’s go on, we haven’t reached the destination yet

—Translated by Baran Farooqui

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YjFLA0oAVI