Sarfaraz Nawaz

Associate Professor, Dept. of English, Shibli National College, Azamgarh, U.P, India

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Translation is not something new. It followed closely on the heels of literary creation. But the question as to what extent the process of translation is complete, faithful, desirable, and justified is also as old as the practice of translation. The practice of translation led to the theories of translation: “Etienne Dole, the French man was perhaps the first scholar in the west who enumerated certain principles for the conduct of literary translators” (Nair 18). When it comes to the translation of poetry, the question becomes all the more emphatic, as it is generally believed that poetry is untranslatable. In poetry, the language is used with much liberty and license, making it difficult for the translator to grasp the shifts and play of words, following the melody and music that has to be created while paying attention to the metrical arrangements of the lines. Poetry has its own atmosphere and unless the translator has a good knowledge and a thorough understanding of the same, he cannot do justice to the job of translation.

The proposed paper takes up various aspects of the translation of Urdu poetry with reference to some of the poems/ghazals of Allama Iqbal in English translation by V.G. Kiernan, and makes an attempt to see if poetry could be translated, and if it really gains in the process; and what are the limitations and hindrances that come in the way of the translator at the level of language, style, structure, and meaning while transferring ideas from one particular language into the other.

In the realm of Urdu poetry, Iqbal, famously known as the ‘Poet of the East,’ holds a significant position, and perhaps next to Ghalib, he is one of the most translated Urdu poets. His poetry has a universal appeal, and by virtue of its thematic concerns has attracted the attention of readers all over the world. Iqbal is concerned with the broader questions of humanity and the world, and like Wordsworth his vision is the celebration of Nature and Man. Some critics consider him to be a poet specifically devoted to the cause of Muslims and Islam, but his outlook and philosophy of life cannot be subjected to the narrow confinement of a particular community and religion. As a Muslim he has his sympathy for his community but he wishes them first and foremost to be good human beings, with all the qualities that lead towards the ennoblement of soul and grant human beings an exalted and dignified status. He poeticizes his concerns with such a passion and depth of feeling that his words make him emerge as a poet of Man. Religion, he believes should not be reduced to a hollow set of rituals and conventions. The true spirit of religion is what will make people recognise their true selves as well their Creator. His poetry tries to see and understand Man in relation to God, focusing on the idea of ‘Khudi’ by which Iqbal means self-realisation, or an awareness of the true potential that lies somewhere dormant in the self. This realisation on the part of man will fill him with unlimited energy, dynamicity, and action. These are the key words in the poetry of Iqbal. He believes that life is in action and this action is defined in terms of search for truth and the discovery of self, leading to the idea of a perfect gentleman in tune with God, Nature, and the World: “Iqbal was concerned first and foremost with the destinies of his own community; but fundamentally he seems concerned rather with Man, the human race, and this is what can be said to give his work a universal relevance” (Kiernan xi).

Here I take the very first poem in English translation “A Withered Rose,” originally titled “Gul-e-Pazmurda.” Since poems have a central idea, the title speaks volumes about the subject matter and the content of the poem. The poem delineates the sorry status of a flower in an alien atmosphere. While the flower would bloom and dance in its own land, now severed from its roots, no wonder it experiences pain, and the sparkle and hue it enjoyed previously seems to be missing. Symbolically, the poem encapsulates the agony and predicament of those in exile. The theme of the poem is such as it can touch a chord and hence its translation. One important thing that has to be kept in mind is that not all poems are suitable for translation. If they have something meaningful in them, some elements of universality, only then a translation would be justified, and only then the poem will lend itself to translation. A translator has this special skill to find out if a poem will allow itself to be translated or not—if not, the attempt on translation on his/her part will be a total loss: “Each translator has his own sway of choosing the text. To translate a work is to dignify it. Hence, first and foremost, the work chosen must be worth the dignity attributed to it. The work selected should have proven importance through its readership” (Kalyani 65). Now, if we look at the structure of the poem, we see that for every one line in the original Urdu, we have two lines in the English translation. So, for the first part of the poem, which consists of three couplets with six lines in Urdu, in the translation we have twelve lines with a different arrangement and a new rhyme scheme. While in Urdu we have individual couplets with their own individual rhymes, in English a couplet has been broken into a stanza of four lines following a rhyme abcb. This pattern has been repeated in the next part of the poem. The second part begins with a turn in the mood of the poem suggested by a space between the two sections. Now the question arises why this compromise at the level of the structure? The answer lies in the fact that languages behave differently and have their own specific pattern of utterances. In a metrical arrangement, we find that Urdu can handle big lines with rhyme while same is not the case with English, as it has a stress pattern, whereas Urdu depends on its vowel and consonant sounds, and their grouping together systematically can accommodate very big lines in rhymes. When the translator confronts this, it forces him to look for alternative patterns that could allow him to communicate the original idea, without losing the melody and music and the flow of lines. In his book of translation Poems From Iqbal, V.G. Kiernan points this out:

Urdu metres, mainly derived from Persian, are varied and effective. They are based on a quantitative system which divides the foot into sound-units composed of long vowels and vowelized or unvowelized consonants. Urdu has, properly, no accent; on the other hand, Urdu verse, evolved for public declamation, can be recited with a very strong accentual rhythm, the stresses falling on almost any syllable in accordance with the quantitative pattern. (xxvii)

The stanza pattern adopted in the translation, in no way hampers the melody and rhythm when compared to the original—rather it gives an experience of expansion. For the first two lines “kis zabaan se aye gul-e-pazmurdah tujh ko gul kahun/kis tarah tujh ko tamanna-e-gul-e-bulbul khaun” (3), we have the following stanza:

How shall I call you a flower

Tell me, oh, withered rose!

How call you that beloved for whom

The nightingale’s heart glows? (2)

Now, in order to enjoy the exquisite beauty of both the translation and the original we need to pay attention to the images in both and see if they have been retained faithfully? And if not, has the alteration added to the beauty of expression, or the translation suffered a loss in the process? For ‘gul-e-pazmuradah’ we have ‘the withered rose’—the original image that also happens to be the title of the poem. Interestingly, for ‘tamanna-e-dil-e-bulbul’—literal meaning being the desire of a nightingale’s heart—we have, “how call you that beloved for whom/ The nightingale’s heart glows?” We can see how in the expansion of lines that allow the translator ample space to place his image, the slight alteration has created the vivid and vibrant image of a heart glowing in love, of course, with longing and desires. Thus, here the translation gains in a way. Similarly, for the line “thee kabhi mauj-e-saba gahwara-e-jumbaan-tera”—the gusts of winds were once your cradle—we have two lines “The winds’ soft ripples cradled you/ And rocked your bygone hours.” Here the second line in the translation is an addition, keeping in mind the demand of the rhyme pattern that the translator has to maintain. But it is in tune with the idea and the theme that has been taken up for treatment in the original.

In the second section of the poem, the first couplet has moved so effortlessly into the stanza of the translation, with such grace and such ease, that one cannot but appreciate the skill and ingenuity of the translator in capturing the flavour of the original. The sympathetic tone, the emotional intensity, and the atmosphere of the expression, everything has been beautifully clothed into the new garb successfully to reproduce the overall impact. Let’s see the original and its translation:

Tujh pe barsaata hai shabnam deed-e-giryaan mera

Hai nehaan teri udaasi men dil-e-veeran mera (3)

These eyes are full, and drops like dew

Fall thick on you again;

This desolate heart finds dimly its

Own image in your pain, (2)

Again, for a line in the original Urdu “Khwab meri zindagi thi jis ki hai taabeer tu” (3), we have “My life was all a life of dreams/ And you—you are its meaning” (2).We see how through the repetition of words like ‘life’ and ‘you’, the translator has tried to capture the emphasis in the original. The final couplet is in Persian and the translator has to put it into Italics to suggest that it has been translated from the Persian and not the Urdu. The translation from the Persian is so natural and effortless that it reads like it was originally written in English. This I believe is the feature of a good translation—it should attain all the qualities and merits while passing through the process of translation to emerge as a finished product, with the stamp of its own originality. It seldom happens so, but when it happens, the magic is already created. Let’s read just the translation and forget about the original:

I tell my stories as the reed

Plucked from its native wild

Murmurs; oh Rose, listen I tell

The grief of hearts exiled. (2)

Now I take up “Saqi Nama,” a longer poem from the collection, to clearly understand the difficulties involved in translating poetry, and particularly Urdu poetry. It becomes near impossible to closely follow the pattern and structure of the poem in the original because “a writer in a source language operates on one level of primary representation, whereas a translator operates on multiple levels with the form and all its baggage, both in the source and the target language” (Rahman 113). Urdu has this exquisite beauty of lending itself to contraction as well as expansion, depending upon the choice of the writer to use words with economy or to use many of them. One could find a small poetic line with multi-layered meaning, and at the same time have the instances where things are expressed in a roundabout way, using a lot of words to suggest a small meaning. This flexibility is what poses a bigger challenge for the translator. Without a firm grip on both the languages and their cultural nuances, translation will be a failed attempt.

 “Saqi Nama” is a masnavi, a popular form chosen by poets to deal with social, historical and religious subjects. Masnavi comes from the Arabic word masna which means two. Structurally, a masnavi has a series of individual rhyming couplets with their different rhymes, following a fixed meter (usually a short one). It is usually a long poem. It could be just like a novel in poetry, dealing with the varied aspects of life ranging from, love, nature, adventure, romance to spirituality and deeper philosophical issues. The short meter helps the couplets attain a pace, and the rhymes allow a smooth and seamless flow making the narrative move with spontaneity and ease, creating a magical and soothing effect on the mind of the readers. Every line gives the impression of completeness, where the individual couplet stands as a unit, and at the same time when read together with other couplets, has a sense of continuity to allow the central idea of the poem to develop in a systematic manner. This balance between the form and the idea handled with such subtle sophistication in Urdu cannot be achieved in the English rendering.

Using the extensively used metaphor of ‘Saqi’—the bartender—standing for lover, friend, the alter ego, the soul, and the Almighty God, Iqbal in this famous masnavi of his deals with the idea of Muslim Renaissance. He exhorts the Muslim nations to discard their slumber through the recognition of ‘Khudi’—self-realisation—and join the world on the path of progress and knowledge. The poem has been presented as a document of self-assessment and self-actualisation, and though addressed to the Muslims, has the elements that make it universal in appeal by virtue of being highly motivational and inspirational in its tone. Every line is surcharged with such energy and feeling that the readers can experience the thrill and sensation of some sort of transformation taking place in them. The form of the masnavi allows this force, freedom, and flow to move unrestrained and unhindered. Although the translator has tried to follow it in his translation, the original impact and power of lines is somewhat slackened because of the enjambment that he uses to move with the idea in translation. The way the flow of thought is broken in the first line to allow it to run on into the other, somehow hampers the ceaseless flow that we have in the original Urdu, where the movement is suggested both by the choice of sounds as well as their arrangement.

The swift movement of water through boulders and rocks as it flows down the heights has been very beautifully captured by Iqbal. The choice of Urdu words and their sound pattern have been put together so effortlessly that the reader may feel the current of water, and almost hear it leaping and jumping about. The translator at his level best has tried to reproduce the original force, but somehow at certain place, because of the arrangement of lines and phrases, some part of it is missing. Here I give the original as well as its translation:

Wo joo-e-kuhistaan uchakti huyi

Atakti, lachakti, sarakti huyi

Uchhalti, phisalti, sanbhalti huyi

Bade pech khaa kar nikalti huyi

Ruke jab to sil cheer deti hai ye

Pahaadon ke dil cheer deti hai ye (129)

Down from the heights that rill comes leaping

Slipping, spurting, recoiling, creeping

Stumbling, recovering, while it winds

Through a hundred turnings until it finds

Its way, gnawing through boulders that block

Its channel, through mountain hearts of rock! (128)

In the example above, the couplet “Ruke jb to sil cheer deti hai ye/ Pahadon ke dil cheer deti hai ye” carries a force and emphasis at the level of meaning which is meticulously articulated through equally powerful lines of a couplet. When the same idea is spread over two lines and a half in translation, it no longer has the same strength: “… … until it finds/Its way, gnawing through boulders that block/Its channel, through mountain hearts of rock!”

Because of its exquisite elasticity and flexibility, and the balance the Urdu words can manage to have between sound and meaning, certain couplets in the poem become epigrammatic in nature. They serve as maxims and could be easily taken out of the context of the poem to be used as proverbial phrases. Because the translator has followed a pattern of run on lines in the translation, the sense and the meaning seem to spill over into the succeeding line and as a result the impact and effect one has in Urdu seems to be missing in the translation:

Utha Saqiya parda is raaz se

Lada de mamule ko shahbaaz se (129)

… …oh Saqi raise

That secret’s curtain, and let this weak

Sparrow challenge the falcon’s beak! (128)

Haqeeqat khurafaat mein kho gayee

Ye ummat rewayaat mein kho gayee (131)

Truth buried in rubbish, a ritual maze

Burying the creed; … … (130)

However, there are some couplets where the meaning gets suitably encapsulated within two lines just like it is in the Urdu original. But it is almost impossible for the translator to maintain this throughout the poem, as languages have their own cultural behaviours and patterns governing the way they can be written or articulated. One may have a look at these:

Sharab-e-kuhan phir pila saqiya

Wahi jam gardish men la saqiya (131)

Again, oh Saqi, the old wine pour

Let the same cup go round once more; (130)

Jigar se wahi teer phir paar kar

Tamanna ko seenon mein bedaar kar (133)

Pierce us again with your keen darts

Wake the old longings in our hearts! (132)

Now, we will examine how the translator has to go for alteration and modification at the level of meaning, in order to balance the form and content that he always struggles to achieve, while trying to render ideas from one language into the other which are culturally and temperamentally different from one another. Sometimes blunders also occur because of the failure on the part of the translator to grasp the subtle cultural connotation of a particular word or phrase at the level of idea. This may be out of ignorance but it affects the act of translation. One example could be given from this poem where the translator takes the word Muslim and Islam as interchangeable and in doing so, he kills the original meaning:

Bujhi Ishq ki aag andher hai

Musalman nahin raakh ka dher hai (131)

Quenched is devotion’s burning spark,

Islam an ash-heap cold and dark (130)

We have another couplet where the translator comes up with a very different image to suggest the idea expressed in the original. For the couplet “Purani siyasatgari khwaar hai/Zamin meer-o-sultan se bazaar hai” (131) roughly meaning—the old pattern of politics will no longer work, as the world is fed up with kings and emperors—the translator has it as “The hoary arts of politics sink/In earth’s nostrils King and Sultan stink” (130). The image of King and Sultan stinking in earth’s nostrils seems rather unfamiliar and far-fetched and thus fails to produce the desired effect. This is how the translator, in order to maintain the formal aspects of the poem, has sometimes to make compromise at the level of thought and meaning.

Now I come to the translation of some ghazals in the collection. Urdu ghazal has a set and fixed arrangement that the poets need to follow to do justice to the form. A ghazal consists of at least four shers—let’s call them couplets for want of a better term since a sher is more or less like a couplet, made up of two lines. Every couplet is a self-contained unit and stands alone from the rest of the couplets with regards to the subject and meaning it intends to convey. This is how the couplet becomes epigrammatic in nature, serving as some sort of maxim, as the meaning is encapsulated within two lines. But sometimes, we have ghazals where all the couplets are threaded together with a unifying theme that develops couplet after couplet.

The first or the introductory couplet is called matla and has rhyming words called qafiya with a refrain called radeef, attached at the end of both the lines. In the rest of the couplets, the second line of each follows the rhyme and refrain pattern. But all the lines have equal length following a metrical pattern. The last or the closing couplet in which the poet uses his pen name is called maqta. There are certain ghazals in which we have the rhyming words/qafiya at the end of lines, following the pattern but without a refrain/radeef. Such ghazals are called ghair-muraddaf. In the arrangement of qafiya and radeef (rhyme and refrain), one cannot ignore the importance of any of the two. In fact, most of the time, it is the choice of the radeef that lends a ghazal its exquisite beauty and meaning.

When a ghazal is translated into English, it is a challenge for the translator to adhere to the scheme of qafia and radeef, which becomes most of the time, near impossible. But since this arrangement is an integral part of the form, he/she has to strike a balance at the level of meaning so that the total impact is not lost. To what extent a translator has to reproduce the image in the original, and to what extent a new image could replace it, is a matter left to the discretion of the translator. What can guide the translator in this is his/her poetic sensibility and the understanding of meaning and its shades that need to be conveyed. The translator’s job is to be faithful to the original as much as possible, but paying too much attention to the form and structure could lead to ambiguity, as a particular pattern may not always be faithfully followed in two languages with semantic and linguistic differences. Translating poetry becomes a tightrope walk on the part of the translator. Many often translators in this realm have been found losing balance, and in the process have failed to do justice to their job. One cannot rule out the possibilities of limitations that obstruct the path of the translator and the compromises that he/she has to make to steer and control the smooth translation of meaning from one language to the other. But an adept translator, gifted with a poetic sensibility and a thorough understanding of the two languages in question, can create magic with his/her art of translation. A study of one of the ghazals by Iqbal in translation will make it clear, how the individual couplets, as they enter a culturally different atmosphere of an alien language, sparkle with their own beauty and in the process enrich the original.

Let’s take the opening couplet of Ghazal No.5 from the book referred to earlier. Since ghazals don’t have titles like poems, they are just numbered in a collection. The first couplet in the Urdu original reads as

Mata-e-bebaha-hai dard-e-soze-e-aarzumandi

Maqam-e-bandagi de kar na lun shaan-e-khudawandi (69)

Here the rhyming words are ‘aarzumandi’ and ‘khudawandi,’ and there is no refrain. So, it is relatively easier on the part of the translator to maintain the rhyme in the translation. The couplet paraphrased simply will mean: ‘The heart of a devotee filled with longings is something that he values much. His being a devotee is such a wealth that he is unwilling to exchange it with the majesty and status of God.’ Now let’s look at the translation:

Slow fire of longing—wealth beyond compare;

I would not change my prayer-mat for Heaven’s chair! (68)

The idea in the original has been very beautifully captured and transferred in the translation. Here we have the rhyme ‘compare’ and ‘chair’. Now the challenge for the translator is to retain the same rhyme in the second line of each succeeding couplet. In the translation we have the image of the ‘prayer-mat’ to suggest the idea of the place of the devotee and ‘Heaven’s Chair’ to denote the status and majesty of God. And this is how the couplet in translation gains in terms of introducing new images that are not found in the original. They very aptly convey the idea from the Urdu and have a newness of treatment that has its own special appeal. This departure from the original in terms of the communication of idea may have arisen out of the need to maintain the rhyme (compare, chair), but the translator has handled this with ingenuity, resulting in a beautiful translation, almost having the same force and flair that we have in the original.

One drawback of translation is that it limits the possibilities of variations in terms of the images evoked by a particular word. Now we take the next couplet that reads as “Tere aazad bandon ki na ye dunya na wo dunya/ yahan marne ki paabandi wahan jeene ki paabandi” (69). The English translation for this couplet is: “Ill fits this world Your freemen, ill the next: /Death’s hard yoke frets them here, life’s hard yoke there” (68). Here in the translation the idea of ‘paabandi’ has been suggested by the word ‘yoke’ which may not come to the reader of the original. In Urdu, the word ‘paabandi’ used in the context of the couplet, takes the idea of restrictions and confinements in terms of time. People are bound to the cycle of time; in one case it is the transience of time to which they are bound, and in the other case it is infinity of time to which they are bound. Here in this world, or in the other world what they lack is the freedom to choose, as they are in the clutches of time in its finite and infinite forms. Either one is bound to die or bound to continue living with no choice of one’s own. The translator has a tough time looking for an appropriate word in English for the Urdu word ‘paabandi’ to convey the intended meaning. But at the same the time, the choice of the translator to bring in ‘yoke’ as a near equivalent to ‘paabandi’ has its own connotations. The idea of drudgery and burden is associated well with the word ‘yoke’ and the image in a way adds to the meaning of the original couplet even if it may not be an exact translation/equivalent. And let us understand that exact translation is a myth—rather a drawback. Translation is never pure and literal, it is a refined and sophisticated interpretation of the text being translated, and when it touches the heights of refinement, it enters the domain of creation alongside the text that it attempts to translate.

Here, I take ghazal No.14 from the collection which poses a challenge to the translator in terms of retaining the form, or closely following the specific structure of the original Urdu. The ghazal in question has the qafiya—jahaan, imtehaan, kaarwan, etc. and the radeef—aur bhi hain. The radeef here is very special as it adds to the meaning of every couplet the idea of ‘there is much more that awaits you’. In fact, the refrain lends a sense of continuity and progress to the entire ghazal and threads together the individual couplets thematically. The translator cannot follow this arrangement of qafia and radeef, so he altogether does away with the radeef, and tries to keep the qafiya suggested by equivalent words in English. But in order to capture and communicate the meaning suggested by the radeef in the original Urdu, he comes up with certain phrases and words –'beyond the stars more worlds,' 'other trials yet to face,' 'in other gardens,' 'so many a lodging-place,' 'new heavens,' 'another Time and Space'—within the lines. This is how the translator manages to convey the idea expressed by the radeef in every couplet. It has been observed that mostly in translation of ghazals, maintaining the pattern of radeef has been an uphill task, and it is seldom if ever that you are likely to lay your hands on a translation, faithfully following a structure of qafiya and radeef together. Here the ingenuity and skill of translator is what comes handy. There is no theory that is going to be of any help in this regard. What the translator can do best is to manage things at the level of meaning, with an alteration in the form to some extent that is unavoidable. Also, it is very important to understand if a particular ghazal allows itself to be translated or not, and if yes—to what extent the translator can take liberties with the original at the level of form and meaning, without transforming it beyond recognition. In the translation of this particular ghazal, the translator has skillfully managed to be as close to the meaning of the original as possible, although he is compelled to make his own arrangement and come up with his varied set of phrases to follow the radeef in the original. One may see the following couplets and their translation:

Agar kho gaya ik nasheman to kya gham

Maqamaat-e-aah-o-fughaan aur bhi hain

Tu  Shaheen hai parwaaz hai kaam tera

Tere saamne asmaan aur bhi hain (91)

Why for one lost home mourn, when grief

Can find so many a lodging-place?

You are a falcon born to soar,

Still with your wings new heavens keep pace; (90)

However, there are some ghazals that have been reproduced in English with their original structure and arrangement in Urdu. But if we look at such ghazals, we will see that radeef here has got almost one specific meaning and therefore it is easy to retain it as a refrain in the translation. The problem arises when radeef looks the same only at the level of sound but may have multiple and varied shades of meaning in association with qafiya in individual couplets. There it becomes really hard to retain it as a refrain, keeping the connotations intact. Here I cite some couplets from two ghazals with the qafiya and radeef underlined for clarification in both the original and the translation:

Agar kaj raw hain anjum asmaan tera hai ya mera

Mujhe fikr-e-jahaan kyun ho, jahaan tera hai ya mera (61)

If the stars wander forth from their path—is heaven mine, or Yours? (60)

Should I care how the world goes? Is the world then mine, or Yours?

Agar hangama haay-e-shauq se hai lamakaan khaali

Khata kiski hai yarab lamakaan tera hai ya mera (61)

If all eternity be void of passion’s storms, whose fault,

God! That eternity should be so barren—mine, or yours (60)

….. … …. …. …. …. … … ….

La phir wahi baada-o-jaam aye Saqi

Haath aa jaaye mujhe mera maqaam aye Saqi (67)

Set out one more that cup, that wine, oh Saqi—

Let my true place at last be mine, oh Saqi(66)

Teen sau saal se hain Hind ke maikhaane band

Ab munasib hai tera faiz ho aam aye Saqi(67)

Three centuries India’s wine shops have been closed,

And now for your largeness we pine, oh Saqi(66)

We may not totally agree with what Robert Frost said about the translation of poetry: “Poetry is what gets lost in translation” (“Robert Frost Quotes”), but we need to understand that the process of translation is an equation of loss and gain. While it may lose something somewhere, in the very act of translation it may gain by adding something new and refreshingly original to the text being translated, without transforming it beyond recognition. Pavan Verma, who has translated many volumes of Gulzar’s poems has very beautifully put this: “Translating poetry is like transferring perfume from one bottle to the other. Some of the fragrance will be lost. No translation can be perfect. Yet we need translations and translators to extend the reach of the poet and his works” (“English fails to capture”). The loss of fragrance in the process of transfer is not a loss in the true sense of the term, since the fragrance stays in the air, and we have a new bottle containing the same fragrance we can take anywhere, as we go spreading it far and wide.

Note: The text of poems/ghazals in the Urdu original (turned into Roman Italics in the paper) and their translation have been cited from Poems from Iqbal: Renderings in English verse with comparative Urdu Text.

Works Cited:

“English fails to capture cultural essence of regional work in translation: Gulzar.” The Hindu.     7 August 2017. www.thehindu.com. Accessed 15 Nov. 2020

Kalyani, P.K. Translation Studies, Creative Books, 2001

Kiernan, V.G., translator, Poems from Iqbal: Renderings in English Verse with Comparative Urdu Text, Oxford University Press, 1955

Nair, Sreedevi K. Aspects of Translation. Creative Books, 1996

Rahman, Anisur. “On Translating a Form: The Possible/Impossible Ghazal in English.” Translation: Poetics and Practice, edited by Anisur Rahman, Creative Books, 2002, pp.113-138.

“Robert Frost Quotes.” Brainy Quote. Brainy Media Inc, 2020. www.BrainyQuote.com. Accessed 16 November 2020

(The paper was received on April 30^th, 2022. It was sent for blind peer review on 5^th May and after review it was received back from the reviewer/s on 20^th May 2022.)