Shiv Kumar Batalvi

 

Maae Ni Maae - Geet

   

Maae Ni Maae - Mother, O Mother

Maae ni maae
Mere geetaaN de nainaaN vich
BirhoN di raRak pave!
Adhi adhi raateeN -
UTH ron moye mitraaN nu
Maae sahnu neeNd na pave!

Mother, o mother,
My songs are like eyes
That sting with the grains of separation.
In the middle of the night ,
They wake and weep for dead friends.
Mother, I cannot sleep.

BhaeN bhaeN sugaNdhiyaaN ‘ch -
BaNhaaN phehe chaanani de
TaaveeN saaDi peeR na save.
Kose kose saahaaN di -
MaeN karaaN je Takor maae
SagoN saahnu khaan nu pave.

Upon them I lay strips of moonlight
Soaked in perfume,
But the pain does not recede.
I foment them
With warm sighs,
Yet they turn on me ferociously.

Aape ni maeN baalaRi,
MaeN haale aap mahtaaN jogi
Maht kihRa es nu dave?
Aakh su ni maae ihnu
Rove buhl chith ke ni,
Jahg kite sun na lave!

I am still young,
And need guidance myself.
Who can advise him?
Mother, would you tell him,
To clench his lips when he weeps,
Or the world will hear him cry.

Aakh su ni kha laye Tuk
HijaraaN da pahkiya,
LekhaaN de ni puTHaRe tave!
Chat laye tarel looni -
GhamaaN de gulaab toN ni,
Kaalaje nu hausala rave!

Tell him, mother, to swallow the bread
Of separation.
He is fated to mourn.
Tell him to lick the salty dew
On the roses of sorrow,
And stay strong.

KihRiyaaN saperiyaaN toN -
MaNgaaN kuNj mel di maeN,
Mel di koi kuNj dave,
KihRa ihna damma diyaaN -
LobhiyaaN de daraaN uhte,
VaaNg khaRa jogiyaaN rave!

Who are the snake handlers
From whom I can get another skin?
Give me a cover for myself.
How can I wait like a jogi
At the doorstep of these people
Greedy for gold?

PeeRe ni peeRe -
Ih piyaar aesi titali hae,
JihRi sada sool te bave!
Piyaar aesa bhaur hae ni -
Jide koloN vaashna vi,
LakhaaN kohaaN door hi rave!

 

Listen, o my pain,
Love is that butterfly
Which is pinned forever to a stake.
Love is that bee,
From whom desire,
Stays miles away.

Piyaar oh mahal hae ni,
Jide ‘ch paNkheruaanNde,
Baajh kujh hor na rave,
Piyaar aesa aaNgana hae
Jide ‘ch ni vasalaaN da
RataRa na palaNgh Dave!
 

Love is that palace
Where nothing lives
Except for the birds.
Love is that hearth
Where the colored bed of fulfillment,
Is never laid.

Aakh maae adhi adhi raateeN
Moye mitraaN de
Uhchi uhchi naaN na lave!
Mate saaDe moyaaN piCHoN,
Jahg eh shareekaRa ni,
GeetaaN nu vi chaNdara kave.
 

Mother, tell him not to
Call out the name of his dead friends
So loudly in the middle of the night.
When I am gone, I fear
That this malicious world,
Will say that my songs were evil.

Maae ni maae
Mere geetaaN de nainaaN vich
BirhoN di raRak pave!
Adhi adhi raateeN -
UTH ron moye mitraaN nu
Maae sahnu neeNd na pave!

March 1961

 

Mother, o mother
My songs are like eyes
That sting with the grains of separation.
In the middle of the night ,
They wake and weep for dead friends.
Mother, I cannot sleep

     
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