Anna Hazare, yeah!

The revulooshun. Yeah!

The revulooshun

Of the maan in the Ghandi Cap. Yeah!

He told the turbaned maan off,

Him and his flunkies r scurryin’ for cover

Madam wa’ away

Dey say

Coz she wa’ unwell.

The revulooshun had ‘er boyz

Cryin’ for her.

With she gone,

The revulooshun grew big, big,

So big!

And all of us gapin’

In front of de idiot box

Cheer’d and clapp’d

Like Yeah Man! Go, get’em!

Cream’em tiger!

And Ghandi Cap Maan did!

He fox ’em

He knocks ’em

Clean with a me-no-eat punch

Yeah, creamed de whole bunch!

Know what,

The whole nayshun wuz

Eatin’ outta his hands

At de end.

Round de bend, what?

Who knows?

For now, we’s baskin’

In success’s limelight

We’s not askin’

We’s not lookin’ to fight.

But maan,

The revulooshun

The revulooshun

I like it!

I like it!

I liked watchin’ it

On me idiot box. Yeah!!!

Another Faiz translation!

Speak


Speak, for your tongue is free
Speak, for your voice is still your own
Speak, for your body is still your own
Speak, for your life is still your own


Look! At the blacksmith's
The coal's blazing, the iron red-hot
The locks beginning to burst open
The chains melting away


Speak, for these moments will suffice
Before your voice is silenced
Speak for the truth still lives
Speak so you may state what's to be stated



bol ki lab aazaad hai.n tere
bol zabaa.N ab tak terii hai
teraa sutawaa.N jism hai teraa
bol ki jaa.N ab tak terii hai
dekh ke aaha.ngar kii dukaa.N me.n
tu.nd hai.n shole surKh hai aahan
khulane lage quffalo.n ke dahaane
phailaa har ek zanjiir kaa daaman
bol ye tho.Daa waqt bahot hai
jism-o-zabaa.N kii maut se pahale
bol ki sach zi.ndaa hai ab tak
bol jo kuchh kahane hai kah le

[sutawaa.N=well built; aaha.ngar=blacksmith; tu.nd=sharp (here it means bright);]
[aahan=iron; quffalo.n ke dahaane=keyhole]



http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/speak-4/
http://pdf.faizcentenary.org/downloads/084_speak_by_azfar_hussain.pdf (Another translation of the same poem. Just so that you can get the poem completely)

In keeping with the name of the blog -- aakhri khat (the last letter) -- I start with a translation of a Faiz poem entitled ... well, Aakhri Khat! The choice of Faiz also ties in with the name emblazoned across the top of the page -- Revolution. Faiz saheb was truly a revolutionary in terms of his literary career as well as his public life. So here goes:

That day, my love isn't very far away
When pain will end my life's journeys
When my inner anguish transcend its limits
My desperate and unsuccessful glances tire
My sighs and tears lose their fire
And my hopeless youthful life be torn away from me


Perhaps you will then remember my love
Feel a tinge of sadness in your heart
Come to my grave to shed a tear or two
Bringing along a few stray blooms
Perhaps you will disown my memory altogether 
Laugh at my unrequited love
Be contemptuous of my charity


But my shattered heart will have no inkling of
Whether you choose to laugh at my love,
Shed tears, express regret for what has passed
Because it will be cold and dead. 

For the original of the poem (in Roman script) as well as another translation, please use this link : http://www.naseeb.com/journals/last-letter-122759