I.
 Invocation:-
I start with song in praise of the Lord
who made this world spring forth from love. 
Prime lover of all is the Lord Himself,
and He gave His love to the Prophet-envoy. 
Love is the sign of saint and sage
and the man of love will be solemn and shy. 
And those who are fulfilled this wise
will find admittance to grace above.

Then after the Lord I praise His Prophet-
all heavens and earths were made for him-
Who, made of dust, is raised so high,
purged of all evil of the world; 
And who though chief of all the prophets,
made himself dust before the Lord, 
Discarded joy, care-ridden to save
the faithful on the day of doom.

Also I praise the friends of the Prophet1,
four gems indeed of the purest ray-
Abu Bakar, Umar, Usman and Ali
each with an excellence all his own: 
Who, having drunk deep at the well of faith,
gave all they had in the cause divine. 
Setting pleasure aside, they lived their lives
in abstinence. Blessed are they ! 

(1. Friends of the Prophet. The first four Caliphs 
of lslam named two lines below are termed 
friends (Sahaba) of the Holy Prophet.)

Next I must sing to the Pir Makhdum2
whose goodness clothes his humblest ward.
We may seek a thousand other saints,
only he in the end befriends in truth. 
And those to whom he lends his grace,
enjoy all gifts of heaven and earth, 
And on the judgement day they shall
wear robes of honour in reward.

(2. Mukhdum Pir: Makhdum Jahania, 
Syed Jalal-ud-Din Bukhari (787-800 A.D.) 
of Multan, grandson of Syed Jalal Bukhari. 
He is mentioned among the five saints 
who were in spirit supporters of Ranjha's 
love for Hir.)

Maudud's beloved son, Masaud3,
the sweet-tongued, of all sweets the store: 
Most perfect of the house of Cist,
whose shrine, Pakpatan, is well-renowned; 
The highest of the twenty-two poles,*
whose penance is famous all around; 
His grace dispels all Panjab's sorrow;
and makes her peaceful evermore.

(3. Masaud : The original name of Sheikh 
Masaud-ud-Din Farid (1173-1265 A.D.) 
popularly known as Sheikh Farid Shakarganj 
(Storehouse of sugar), who belonged to 
the Chishti branch of the Muslim Sufis.)

*(According to one Muslim belief there are 
at any one time in the world twenty-two 
persons who serve as fixed reference points 
of the creed. They are given the name of 
'qutb', meaning 'pole'.)
 A friendly request is complied with:-
Friends came one day and made request
that the tale of Hir be told anew; 
In words poetic and sweet be put
the flaming passion of that love; 
In verses full of high romance
the heroic lovers be brought alive; 
So that where friends and lovers meet
the love of Hir may get its due. 

And bowing to the friends' command
did I this wondrous tale compose 
In phrases elegant and demure,
fresh as rose petals on the stalk. 
Great was the soul's travail, indeed,
like Farihad's4 as he hewed the rock.
This bouquet is of the choicest flowers,
with a perfume nobler than that of the rose.

(4. Farihad: A legendary lover of Iran who, 
a mason-painter working in the palace of 
Chesroe II (599-628 A.D.), fell madly in love 
with the King's daughter, Shirin. His madness 
grew so overpowering that the king, half in 
jest, asked him to dig a canal from the 
mountains to the city to win Shirin's hand. 
He succeeded in this, but the king did not 
honour his pledge. At this Farihad killed 
himself with a blow of the adze with which 
he was cutting the stones.)

II.

 Of Takht Hazara and Dhido:-
In Takht Hazara, a wondrous place,
the Ranjhas1 live in joy and mirth; 
Of where the youth are gallant and brave,
with handsome faces and broad chests; 
Rings on their fingers and on their ears,
and lungis2 flowing round their waists; 
How can you, Waris, describe Hazara,
a paradise, verily, on this earth?

(1. The Ranjhas : The name of a Jat clan.

2.A broad sheet of cloth to cover the lower 
part of the body with a silk border or 
sometimes entire of silk, worn by both 
men and women in rural West Panjab.)
 Of Dhido's father:-
Mauju, the head, with a say in the village,
accepted chief among his peers; 
A man of wealth and numerous issue,
two daughters and sons as many as eight; 
Held in full trust by all his tribe,
and competent to arbitrate; 
And, Waris,* as the Lord has willed,
to Dhido infinite love he bears. 

(*Only the poet's name put facetiously
in the last line of most stanzas.)
 Of the jealous brothers:-
The brothers' hate against this love,
was foiled by fear of the father alone; 
Their insinuations nipped the heart
of Mauju like a viper's tooth. 
Their taunts in season and out of season
would, if they could, have killed them both;
Ah, Waris, such is love of the self,
that kinship means but little to men.
 Of Mauju's death:-
Death came to Mauju, as it was written,
and Dhido's fortune suffered reverse. 
'You eat your fill to stare at wenches,'
with such rebukes was he addressed. 
Each day afresh his heart was stabbed,
and old wounds with new cuts oppressed. 
Their wives would nag and curse him, too,
they were, indeed, a good deal worse.
 Of the partitioning of the paternal acres:-
In the Kazi's presence, with the elders attending,
paternal acres were surveyed. 
By graft the brothers acquired the best,
to Dhido's share fell bog and marsh. 
The sisters-in-law poked fun at him.
their jesting was unkind and harsh. 
The villagers talked and laughed and grieved
how Dhido had been fleeced and flayed.
 Of the brothers' taunts:-
Say the brothers; 'You shave and look in the mirror,
how can you trudge behind the plough? 
‘No wench will ever care for the wight
that oils his hair and fattens his hide. 
'To play the flute and sing all day,
it will not take you far, indeed; 
'You grumble already over your share,
and never seem to have enough.'
 Of Dhido in the fields:-
The morning spent behind the plough,
comes Dhido at noon to rest in the shade.
And the sister-in-law that brings his meal,
is well regaled with his tale of woe. 
With kibes on hands and feet, he swears,
he does not care to reap, and sow. 
A doting father's favourite, Waris,
he could have fared no better, indeed.
 Of Dhido railing against his sisters-in-law:-
'O wenches, worst of all my foes,
yoy have estranged my brothers from me. 
‘My gaiety you have turned to grief,
and plucked the rose-leaves of my heart. 
'We eight were flesh and blood together,
whom you have now torn all apart. 
Even so when we set out for heaven,
you'll hold up and demand your fee.'
 Of the sisters-in-law making a rejoinder:-
'For this we feed you with milk-pudding,
for all our pampering this is the thanks? 
'The village wives, they laugh at us,
are we not too fond of this boy? 
'Have we not fallen for youthful looks.
like flies getting stuck in honey? they say. 
'None of our vaunted gentility can
hide from their eyes your naughty pranks.

'While everyone else here lives in peace,
on us alone there lies a curse. 
'Only when you starve, away from home,
will you these monkey-tricks unlearn. 
'The man of evil ways, indeed,
ought to be shunned at every turn 
'For in his evil company things
will surely go from bad to worse.'
 Of Dhido's retort:-
'Deceitful ones, you'll turn poor men
into rams, make serpents of mere strings, 
'She was one of you who made of Bhoj6
a horse and bridled him for a mount; 
‘And she who sent to hell the Kaurava
and Pandava7 hosts just with a taunt; 
'And Ravana8 with his Lanka of gold was burnt,
in your hell-fires, O evil things!'

(6. Bhoj Raja : A Parmara Rajput ruler of Ujjain 
in the tenth century, known as well for his 
learning as formilirary strength. But he was also 
reputed to be an uxorious husband who on one 
occasion in his intimacies consented to become 
his wife's bridled horse.

7. Kaurava and Pandava hosts: One of the causes 
of the suicidal warfare between the princes of 
these two families, first cousins, villains and heroes, 
respectively, of the Mahabharata, is said to be 
practical joke that  had been played by Draupadi,  
on the eldest of the Kaurava brothers, Duryodhana. 
In their newly built palace at Hastinapur the 
Pandavas had constructed two tanks, one of which 
appearing to be full of water, was in fact empty and 
the other appearing empty was filled with water. 
Duryodhana, in the course of a visit, fell into the 
second tank and got drenched. At this Draupadi, 
exercising her right as a cousin-in-law, tauntingly 
called him 'Blind son of a blind father'-
Duryodhana's father Dhritrashtra was born blind.

8. Ravana: The king of Sri Lanka who had abducted 
Sita, wife of Rama, the famous god-ruler of Ayudhia 
in the Gangetic valley. This is said to have led to the 
invasion and destruction of the city of Lanka by 
Rama's forces.)
 A rejoinder:-
'You scoundrel of a boy,' she said,
'I won't be drawn into such brawls. 
'The woman is ruined, indeed, who looks
to a brother-in-law like you for grace; 
'Already we are slandered in every home,
the village wives we can hardly face; 
'We have nothing to do with you, go seek
for bride a daughter of the Syals9.'

(9. Syals: A Jat clan in which the heroin of 
this lay, Hir, was born. )
 Of Dhido's taunt again:-
'You look so hideous, sister-in-law,
putting into the fire moths burnt and dead. 
'What do I stand to gain from you
that I should care for any of your wit? 
A mansion of hate you have built, and barred
all entrance to and exit from it. 
'O low-born, you but gain respect
from my clan's name, and you call me a cad!'
 Of the Sister-in-law again:-
'O ruffian, shut up, that is the limit,
and mend your ways if yoy care to be fed. 
'You are discussed at watering-places,
your ill-fame even the spinning wheels hum. 
'And many a girl you have ruined, that fell
for you, forsaken of house and home.
'Your jet-black curls are cobra-snakes
that suck at the heart and drain its blood. 
'O wanton, mad with the folly of youth,
you spit and belch the fire of pride. 
'A blazing turban on hair well-curled
and oiled, at passing girls you stare. 
'At home should the broth be short of salt,
you toss the trenchers into the air. 
'A gourmand, wastrel, dandy, and shirker,
you put too much worth on your hide.'
 Of Dhido beating a retreat:-
'I've strayed, unknowing, into your parlour,
O vampire, let me go my way. 
'I'll go from here for fear of you,
and leave you mistress of the house. 
'Why should you rack me day and night,
even if you have a handsome face? 
'Encumbered with pride of beauty you go,
this pride will have a fall, beware! 
'Stiff-lipped and vain, you seem to hate
to have to breathe this common air. 
'Beloved of fortune and of man,
withhold your cruel scorn, I pray.'
 Of the sister-in-law mounting a further attack:-
'You donot care for any of us,
go bring for bride Hir of the Syals. 
'Play at the flute, cast nets of love,
and bring for a haul the maid of Jhang. 
'You have a way with women, I know,
a Kokila Rani10 you can win with a song. 
'And if by day you don't succeed,
by night you sure can scale the walls. 

(10. Kokila Rani: A princess figuring in the 
legends of the Panjab, connected with 
Raja Rasalu who, apparently a profligate, 
was, in fact, a yogin. This princess fell 
desperately in love with him, but was 
ultimately persuaded to forego love's 
pleasures.)
 Of Dhido's retort:-
'I'll win for bride the daughter of the Syals,
your taunts, O hussy, I'll suffer no more.
‘Like ladies of the harem she'll languish on a couch,
and the likes of you shall serve as her maids. 
'A rude rough wench like you deserves
to be hurled deep down the water-sheds. 
'O stop your chatter, that's enough,
you have filled my lap with gifts galore.'
 Of Dhido's departure from home:-
'How raw you are to make a row,
much like a co-wife,' came the jibe. 
'Go make hay while you may,' she said,
'your youth otherwise may soon go stale. 
Offended deep, Dhido beat his head,
O how you stick to me like burr! 
'I'll leave this house, I'll leave this land,
and you may queen it here, for all 
'I care. These bickerings let us end,
to all your swagger I demur.' 
A blanket round him, shoes in hand,
leaves Dhido, like Waris, the home of his tribe.
 Of the brothers' pleading with Dhido:-
'What ails you, Dhido? the brothers plead,
'Why leave you thus your kith and kin? 
'Are we not born of the self-same mother?
Forsake us not, that's most unkind. 
'None other than your own brothers are we,
no alien thought may cross your mind. 
'Forgive us and our sinning wives;
for who is born that is free from sin?'
 Of brothers in general:-
There is no joy without brothers' sharing,
in social meet, in festive hour. 
A brother's death is a blow that cripples,
and drives the victim from pillar to post.
In a brother's love great comfort lies,
with a brother estranged, the battle is lost. 
No friend can equal a brother, Waris,
and a brother can make one's fate or mar.
 Of Dhido's disillusioned reply:-
'I have no share left in this house,
I leave you all, for woe or weal. 
'You took all that belonged to us
in common; is that the way of kin? 
'At heart you are pleased that I am going;
your pleadings wear a bit too thin. 
'Why must you come upon me thus,
with words that hurt much more than steel?'
 Of the pleadings of the brothers' wives:-
'O Dhido,' pleaded the brothers' wives,
'We shall serve you as your maids for ever. 
'But when you talk of leaving the home,
our eyes overflow with tears of gore. 
'Our lives, all that to us belongs,
we give to you to use or spare. 
'Bereft of you, we are fish out of water,
and turn and twist as on a skewer,'
 Of Dhido's reply:-
'O sisters, I've renounced the world,
do not seduce me back again. 
'Having turned my heart on fire, you now
pretend you would apply the balm. 
'Brothers of my blood you have estranged.
what kinship with you can I claim? 
'I am a hideous, ill-looking lout,
while you are beauty's streams in flood. 
'You may exploit the whole wide world,
dry bread is for me much too good. 
'What matter I, one against you seven.
together flowing all amain?'

III.

 Of Dhido taking leave of his brothers:-
Against all his brothers' and their wives' pleadings,
Dhido leaves Hazara in sore distress. 
A full day's march on an empty stomach
brings him to a mosque for the night's fare. 
At midnight up he takes the flute,
and fills with melody the air. 
Women and men rush out of their homes,
and gather around him in a press. 
And, Waris, who should come there next?
None other than the keeper of the mosque, 
The mullah, a store-house of disputes,
he takes young Dhido, poor man, to task.

'Who are you to thus defy the law?'
at sight of Dhido the mullah cried. 
'For cads who do not cut their hair
to proper length we have no room. 
‘May be you claim to be God Himself,
and like Mansur11 await your doom.' 
Ah, Waris, the smell of hing* will out,
even if with camphor it is alloyed. 

(11. Mansur: A famous Muslim Sufi, of the 
eleventh century, who proclaimed in a 
mystical sense that he was 'God Himself' 
(an-ul-haq) and was crucified by the Caliph 
of Baghdad for this heresy.

*Asfoetida.)
 Of Dhido chiding the Mullah:-
“The devil is hid behind your beard
of a Sheikh to ambush passers-by. 
'You mount the dais, Koran in hand,
and snares of spurious piety throw. 
'What can you teach of good and evil
to us who know already the law? 
'The foulness that you bring in here!
Thank God for His great charity.
'A maid, a wife, a widow, a sheep,
a she-ass, none is safe from you.' 
Ah, Waris, the deeds these mullah do
in secret, and the fields they plough! 
 Of the mullah's angry retort:-
'A mosque is the house of God Himself,
and the lawless have in it no place. 
'Long locks like yours, long whiskers, too,
had best be singed, I needs must say. 
'And also a lungi that falls below
the ankle must be torn away. 
'A sinful friar, a prayerless man
and a fouling dog deserve no grace. 
'Hanged shall he be by the nearest tree
who breaks the law in Fikah* laid, 
'And foes of God from a distance must
be shooed away like dogs indeed.'

(*The Muslim book of law.)
 Of Dhido mocking at the mullah:-
'O tell me what your prayer is like,
and where indeed was she born and bred. 
'Is she a woman with ears, nose, eyes,
sent down here to the bane of man? 
'Is she tall or short? What would be her age?
and what charms does she sport or own? 
'Or is she just a weaver's web
on half a dozen pegs spread?'
 Of the mullah's solemn warning:-
'We take our stand on the writ of Fikah,
and shun the wicked who break the law. 
'Good actions, worship and prayer we preach
to help men cross the river of death.
‘By precept, practice, rule, command,
and precedent we sift the truth. 
‘And those who skip the daily prayer,
with whip and cord we beat them raw.
 Of Dhido lashing at the mullah again:-
'In the house of God you let out farts,
and vaunt of it, devoid of shame; 
'And full of sloth, like cripples and lepers,
you throw the dice of life and death. 
'You smell of the pudding and taste of carrion,
and kill the living with pious breath. 
'You shelter under the mask of law
the wicked, steeped in sin and crime. 
'Then when in the small hours of the night,
hunger wakes you up, you crow for prayer, 
'And all impatient with the lodgers
overnight, you drive them out of here.
 Of the mullah declaiming in wrath:-
'O churl, O clown,' the mullah cried,
'you may hide your arse here for the night; 
'But ere the morning spreads itself,
rise from your slumber and slink away. 
'Do not dispute in the house of God,
these devil's antics will not pay.' 
Ah, Waris, truly, on our mosques
these cursed mullahs are a blight!

IV.

 Of Dhido leaving the mosque in the morning:-
With the chirp of the sparrow and the swirl of the churn,
when the traveller sets out on his track;
When the genuine* dawn has broken at last,
and reds and pinks begin to glow; 
And ploughmen put their beasts to the yoke,
who have to break the earth to sow; 
And wives at the handmill grind the corn
for ovenfuls of loaves to bake;

 (* According to the Arabs, there are two dawns 
before the sun rises, and the later of the two is 
the genuine dawn.)

And maidens sit at the spinning-wheel,
and the world resumes its daily chores; 
While those who enjoyed their wives' embraces,
run for a bath to pond or well; 
Did Dhido set out for the river-bank,
to find the boat crammed overfull, 
Where the churlish Luddan sits at the helm,
like a butt of honey in a grocery stores.
 Of Dhido pleading with Luddan the boatman:-
“O boatman, for God's own sake, please,
take me across,' Dhido humbly prays. 
With folded hands, and bended knees,
he pleads, 'I am in utter need. 
'If you kindly let me board your boat,
I'll ply the oars and render you aid. 
For I am driven from home and hearth
by unkind brothers, the Lord God knows.'
 Of the boatman's business-like reply:-
'You slip a coin into my hand,
and I will carry you in my arms. 
'We offer our best to gentlefolk
who give us a coin or even a rag. 
'Tramps, bards and friars who have nothing to pay,
we shoo away just like a dog,
'And sons of priests like Waris Shah,
are welcome least, for all their charms.'
 Of Dhido withdrawing to the bank:-
His prayer proving of no avail.
draws Dhido away from the water's edge. 
If none will share his fire with him,
his own little faggot he will light. 
He puts the flute to his lips and breathes
into it all his sorrow's weight. 
And men and women desert the boat
and ferry both, all in a rage.
 Of the discomfiture of Luddan the boatman:-
And soon a crowd is round young Dhido,
with Luddan's wives both pressing close. 
The boatman shouts and bawls in wrath
and calls his women back to the boat, 
And warns the crowd to beware of the evil
he sees in Dhido incarnate. 
Yes, who the devil is this young guy,
who has bewitched the women thus?
 Of Dhido's attempting to swim across the river:-
At the hue and cry thus raised by Luddan
Dhido was a good deal puzzled aod moved. 
His clothes and shoes in a bundle on his head,
he made for the water to swim abreast. 
But Luddan's wives, overcome with pity,
would treat him as did the Prophet his guest.* 
'Why are you being so desperate,
We are all for you, O well-beloved ?'

(*For whom he slaughtered his pet camel as there 
was nothing else to feed the guest with. An 
ancedote from the Phophet Mobammad's life.)
 0f Luddan's wives pleading with Dhido:-
'The Chanab is a hundred fathom deep,
don't plunge in it to certain death. 
'We would lift you on our backs, indeed,
and not demur a moment's space. 
'You are the pupil of our eyes,
and must not think of shifting place. 
'Oh, we would give a world for you
who are our being's very breath.' 
 Of Dhido's being brought back to the boat:-
So arm in arm they bring him back
to the boat again, out of harm's reach. 
Like Adam, all his sin forgiven,
were carried back to heaven again, 
Or Azrael coming to one in a dream,
should take him to regions not mundane. 
And after that he is given a bath
and made to rest on Hir's own couch.*

(*According to this, Chuchak seems to have 
had a kind of houseboat on the river, where 
Hir had a couch reserved for her.)
 Of Dhido's wonder at seeing Hir's couch:-
The couch seems hardly meant for sleeping;
it is reserved for Hir of the Syals, 
Who is queen of all the maids of Jhang,
and daughter of Chuchak Khan, the chief. 
It is the couch of the fragrant-robed,
to whom all fairy-land pays fief. 
All, boatmen, ferrymen, people on the bank
are servants of Hir, her slaves and thralls.
 In praise of Luddan's boat:-
No boat this, it is a lounge, indeed,
where all like wedding-guests may meet.
And poor and rich, and young and old,
ask Dhido about his present and past. 
As moths and insects round the flame,
they gather around the young outcast; 
And as before a disciple of Khizr*
put heaps of offering at his feet. 

(*Khwaja Khizr, the legendary guardian 
saint of the river and of sailors, 
according to Muslim mythology.)
 Of Luddan's remorse and panic:-
Now Luddan who would not row him across
before, is siezed with utter remorse, 
And fearful too on account of his wives,
who cling to Dhido as by the tab. 
Thugs of Banaras are well-known, but
here is a great thug of the Chanab! 
He looks indeed a miracle man,
and for poor Luddan all the worse.
 Of the spreading of the news:-
The cowherds carry report to the village,
a handsome youth is there at the ford, 
From whose soft lips sweet music falls
like flowers, as the flute he plays. 
He adorns, indeed, the couch of Hir,
while Luddan's wives about him press. 
But the maidens of Jhang are furies, too;
they will soon be there with fire and sword.
 Of people questioning Dhido :-
Some ask him about his tribe and place,
while others bring him bread to eat. 
'You look so fine and soft of breeding,
what sets you on this arduous course? 
'Why have you forsaken your kith and kin,
on aged parents laying a curse?
'How did they let you go out of sight?
What villainy has conspired with fate?'
 Of Dhido's state of mind:-
The night being past in mirth and sleep,
the morning finds his heart full sad. 
Looking out he sees the boatmen's huts.
and goes to have some gossip there; 
And having regaled them with his flute,
comes back to languish as before. 
But news has also reached Hir's ears,
how a stranger has defiled her bed.

V.

 Of Hir's arrival on the scene:-
Followed by her sixty maids, she comes,
full of youth's pride and beauty's charm. 
Bunches of pearls hanging from her ears,
she looks a hourie of heavenly birth. 
The bright red bodice over her breasts,
makes one forget both heaven and earth. 
Her nose-ring like the pole-star dares
the fury of the summer's storm. 
O reckless one, relent, for here
so many have pitched their tents and gone! 
The squire's daughter sweeps all before,
so arrogant she, so proud and vain!
 In praise of Hir's beauty:-
What praise may one bestow on Hir!
A full moon shines indeed in her brow, 
With serpentine tresses spread round like night:
her eyes are wild like those of a fawn. 
Her cheeks pulsate like petals of rose,
and the red in them is the colour of wine.
Like arches of Lahore her brows
are arched, no end of beauty there! 
And as she marches at the head
of her fair host, she sways in the air 
Like eagle's wing-a majesty
that queens may well be proud to show. 
Inebriate, elephant-like she rocks
as ever she walks before her maids. 
Ineffable should be the state of those
who dare to have a glimpse of her. 
With kohl* sunk deep on the fringes of her eyes,
she marches like a conqueror, 
As hosts have marched ever from Panjab
to Hindustan on conquering raids. 
The winsome make-up of her face
reminds of a beautiful calligraph; 
To see her would be a pilgrimage,
indeed, to the Prophet's cenotaph! 

(*Antimony powder or some other 
such cosmetic for the eyes.)
 In further praise of Hir:-
Her lips are brilliant red like rubies,
and chin a pear-fruit from Iran. 
Her teeth a string of lilies, pearls
(for swans!) or seeds of pomegranate. 
Tall like a cypress brought from heaven
and fair as a Chinese marionette, 
Her neck is as a swan's and shoulders
marble of the purest vein. 
Her arms are rolls of kneaded butter,
thighs round and slender and camphor-white, 
On her bosom heaving like a wave,
two silken spheroids rise and fall, 
And the navel like a musk-pod floats
on the crystal of a heavenly pool!
Her loins are velvet-soft, while shins
are slim like shafts of a minarette.
A fairy from the garden of Lanka,
or the court of Indra, or the circle of the moon, 
Hir would outshine a thousand beauties,
far lovelier than the loveliest queen.

All like a row of forest deer,
the amazons come with Hir at their head, 
Who rolls like a wave or skims the skies
as a crane that flies ahead of the flock, 
And shines like a sword that is just unsheathed
to fall upon the fatal block. 
And gallants coming across her path
will surely fall upon its blade.

Throbs passion in every inch of her,
like music trembling in a guitar, 
Her peasant step falls all on a dance,
and the anklets rattle on her feet. 
Or like a Qazilbash* horseman who
has run amuck on a crowded street. 
Or is it swords that clang afar
as the host advances from Kandhar? 
Her lips are red with chewing bark,
she has slain all merchants of the town. 
Ah, Waris, in this dice of love
all come out losers, none shall win.

(*Red-cap, a militant tribe of Afghans.)
 Of Hir punishing the boatmen:-
The boatmen are all bound and whipped,
on orders from the amazon. 
You let a lout lie on my couch,
you dare commit such sacrilege!
'Dear maid, but we are innocent.
Why do you fly into such a rage? 
'We never invited this strange guest,
have fear of God, o arrogant one! 
'Great has been our reward indeed,
for being at your service day and night! 
Ah, thus does beauty humble man
and make him quake before its might!
 Of Hir bursting out in wrath:-
Proud of her youth and her father's power,
what does she care for man or God? 
'I'll pull him down my couch,' she roars,
'is he a royal prince or what? 
'Let him a hundred thousand times
crawl at my feet, I care not a jot. 
'Or is he the serpent-saint to come
to meet me, swaying, from Baghdad ?'12

(12. The Serpent saint from Baghdad : 
This Baghdad is a town in the Bahawalpur 
district of Pakistan, and is the shrine of 
Guga, a legendary Rajput prince. Guga 
means snake and for this reason he is 
transformed by legend into a snake. He 
is also regarded as a saint to whom an 
appeal against snake bite lies.)
 Of Hir waking up Dhido and rebuking him :-
'How dare you, sir, lie on my couch,
and sleep here like a log indeed? 
'Finding the couch unoccupied.
you thought of shedding here your sloth. 
'Is there a fever, an ague on you,
or does same spirit choke your breath? 
'Look how he lies asleep, unmoving,
like dead, or is he really dead?'
 Of Hir changing and growing kind:-
She shouts and shrieks, and swings the switch,
a fairy furious at a man. 
He gets up, says, 'O beautiful,'
and she breaks into smiles all soft and kind. 
Flute under his arm, rings on his ears,
and wisps of hair playing in the wind,
With thin-plucked eyebrows, kohl-lined eyes.
Dhido shows a face fair as the moon.

Like Taimus daughter* at sight of Joseph,
His is thrown off her guard a cnce. 
His wild looks pierce deep into her heart
like the point of a dagger in a thrust. 
His rustic beauty wakes her up
as from a sleep, and she is all lost. 
And nestling like a bow in the sheath,
beside him, says she, all in a trance: 
'Thank God, I did not strike you or
in some other manner misbehave! 
Ah, Waris, nothing can help when eyes
meet on the battle-field of love!

(*Zulaikha)
 Of Ranjha's soft remonstrance:-
'O youth-inebriate, all must die,
so like a dream it is to live. 
'And to ensure the traveller's comfort
is but the duty of the elite. 
'One may not be proud of one's beauty
or of one's wealth, or couch or seat, 
'But place one's trust in the Lord Almighty,
and ever be prepared to leave.'
 Of Hir's loving reply:-
'This couch, this earthly frame and all,
this life to you I dedicate. 
'How fortunate I did not swear
at you or give you other offence! 
'And now when I so crave your grace,
do not please show such indifference. 
'I would give a world for your dear sake,
live ever a beggar at your feet. 
'My spinsters' parties will be now
much of a wilderness to me.'
When God disposes, Waris, none
can ever stand in rivalry. 
 Of Ranjha's further chiding:-
'You are well conscious of your charms,
and play quite dexterously your cards, 
'But nothing of this may avail,
for youth is a sharper of the trade.' 
The honey-bee, the cobra, the friar and the lover
require great skill to be subdued. 
Yet love will slay without a sword,
just with the witchcraft of sweet words. 
 Of Hir's further reply:-
'I'll roll like a carpet on your path,
O tell me from which side you come, 
'What is your tribe, your father's home,
and after what clan are you known? 
'I would love to have you to drive and graze
my father's herds, for show alone,' 
Ah, Waris, this piece of sugar-cane,
will snatch away his flute from him. 
 Of Ranjha giving vent to his 
misgivings as well as devotion:-
'On the fringes of my eyes shall graze
your father's herds, if you are kind. 
'To look into your eyes, I'll be your slave,
and you may use me as you like. 
'But you must think of some device,
that once a day we meet to speak; 
'For I would not be a slave in chains,
out of your sight, out of your mind.' 
 Of Hir reiterating her resolve:-
'Along with all my spinster friends,
your bond-slave ever I shall stay, 
'For now that God has brought you to me
all youthful friendships back I fling.
'And here in wood and pasture-land,
our love will always have its spring. 
'By day we'll enjoy here in the wood.
at night in the homesteads romp and play.' 
 Of Ranjha's further questionings:-
'Yes, with your spinster friends you'll sit
on the spinning-wheel in pride of youth, 
'And I shall wait here in the yard,
and none may care to attend to me. 
'You'll give me food and tell me off,
adding insult to injury. 
'If you really mean to stick to the end,
come, take with me a solemn oath.' 
 Of Hir taking the oath of love :-
'I may be orphaned of my father
and mother both, should I prove false. 
'Without you food will be poison to me,
my eye shall never meet another's. 
'I would be a sow to break the oath
which I take here on this seat of Khizr's. 
‘And should I take another lover
may leprosy eat this my flesh!' 
 Of Ranjha ramming it down further:-
'At the first assault you may desert,
the way of love is the hard, strait way. 
'In truth I say, tell me the truth,
for this is the final moment of test. 
'Love is a hard task-master who
will keep the whole world in unrest. 
'And if you are false to your pledges here,
you'll pay the score on judgement-day.' 
 Of Hir's further affirmation:-
'My life is dedicate to you,
and all that here to me belongs.
'On the dice of love I stake my head,
to lose it and to see you win.'
Assured and fortified thus, Ranjha
prepares to go to Chuchak Khan, 
With Hir to sponser him, indeed,
he need endure no misgivings.

VI.

 Of Hir recommending Ranjha to her father:-
Says Hir, 'Ah, father I would give
my life in ransom for your sake. 
'For in the sunshine of your day
in Sandal Bar* here I have played. 
'On swings of silk among its trees
with friends of my heart I have swayed. 
'You are my prop, as the Ox of the earth,**
and here is a herdsman you will like.' 

(*The land between the Chanab and 
the Ravi now in Jhang and
Lyallpur districts, is so called. 

**According to Hindu mythology, the 
earth is supported on the horn of a white ox.)
 Of counsel between father and daughter :-
The father, smiling, says, 'From where
does the young man hail and who is he? 
'With a skin that a rustic touch might soil,
he is hardly fit to graze the herds. 
'Smart and clever,' says Hir, 'and wise,
he can be put at the head of our guards. 
'He will prod the cattle soft and kind,
and will not hit them churlishly. 
'It will not be serf-labour for him,
he will conduct himself so fine. 
'And a light divine shines in his face,
for with the Lord he seems in tune.'
 Of Chuckak's questioning :-
'Which squire's son he, what is his tribe?
and how do you call him clever and smart? 
'Why has he then resigned the world?
which saint affords him moral prop? 
He came here like the head of a host,
who is used to being ever on top 
'Of what Jat clan is he a scion,
and what is it that saddens his heart?'
 Of Hir's reply:-
'Son of the squire of Takht Hazara,
he is of the noble Ranjha clan. 
'With modest face and downcast eyes,
his is a figure to prepossess. 
'His forehead shines with a kind of halo,
a generous nature, clear as glass. 
'He knows how to sit in council with
the wise, to judge, to mete, to scan.'
 Of Chuchak's further questioning:-
'What knows he of Jat and Dogar* laws,
and of justice's complex calls? 
'Where comes he from, all roughing his way?
Why did he fall from his brothers' grace? 
'Or quarrelling with his sisters-in-law,
why did he leave his native place? 
'Is it because of the urge to see
the beautiful faces of the daughters of the Syals?'

(*Dogar, a tribe akin to the Jats, somewhat 
lower in the scale, being mainly cattle-breeders.)
 Hir's further reply:-
'As advocate he will plead a case,
as judge he will listen to complaints; 
'Oblige a robber to yield his booty,
and put an end to every brawl :
‘And rally together the strayed and the lost,
keeping them in sight as sentinel. 
'He is indeed a tiger swift
to track the quarry to its haunts.' 
 Of Chuchak's consent to employ Ranjha:-
'I do agree to your request,
and give the herds all in his charge, 
'But he should do the job with care,
for there are dangers in the wood. 
'He may not get mixed up with thieves,
he lacks experience, I am afraid. 
'Absorbed in playing his flute he may
not let the cattle roam at large.' 
 Of Hir speaking to her mother:-
And then Hir goes and speaks to her mother,
'I have engaged for our herds a man. 
'The herds all unattended, roamed,
and often strayed out of the wood. 
'Daily it was discussed in the village,
the matter is settled now for good. 
'To the great good of our herds, O mother,
this herdsman comes of a noble clan.' 
 Of Hir counselling Ranjha:-
'You'll feed on milk and butter and cake,
attend to the herds, seek grace of the Lord, 
‘And pass your days in merriment,
needing no more than a jug of milk, 
'Live under the providence of the Lord,
and do not mind if people talk. 
‘My maiden friends and I shall watch
over every single breath you take. 
'Being with you always in my thoughts,
I'll keep a keen eye on your track. 
'Just drive the cattle to the river-side,
and sit apart, only be on guard,'

VII.

 Of Ranjha's meeting with the five saints:-
Ranjha went to the wood, but the gruelling heat 
unnerved him, and he called on God. 
and lo! to his great good luck appeared
the five kind saints* out on their tour. 
Feed on bread-pudding and buffaloe's milk.'
they cheer him, never be heartsore; 
'For God has granted you the love of Hir.
And think of us in your hour of need.'

(*They are enumerated later in the text. 
Of course, here their spirits are meant.)
 Of Hir following after Ranjha in the wood:-
The morning meal, milk, butter and pudding,
Hir takes to Ranjha into the wood. 
Finding him after a weary search,
she plaintively tells of the hours thus spent. 
While Kaido**, the lame, is after her,
a dog pursuing a sumptuous scent. 
Ah, Waris, the limping fellow will raise
mischief worthy of the devil, indeed.

(**He is mentioned as an uncle of Hir, 
but is presumably a poor kinsman.)
 Of Kaido begging food of Ranjha:-
Hir going for water to the river,
Kaido comes to where Ranjha waits for her. 
And pleading that he is dying with hunger,
he begs for good in the name of God. 
Ranjha gives him a portion of the pudding,
and he makes for the village with the utmost speed. 
As Hir returns, Ranjha asks of her
from where and who was this Fakir.
 Of Hir's loving remonstrance:-
'O dear, you have made a blunder,' says Hir.
'This limping fakir is such a cad. 
'Given day and night to evil, he
will go and tell against us both. 
'He sows disunion everywhere,
works for breach of all pledged faith. 
'Now will be traduce me in the village,
and carry report to mum and dad.'
 Of Ranjha's pleading ignorance :-
'I did not know he was a spy,
when he came and begged for something to eat. 
'And then as soon as he gets the alms,
he turns on me his filthy back. 
'He cannot have gone very far, O Hir,
go catch the cad and bring him to book, 
'And give him a kick or two in the stomach,
to make him belch his secret out.'
 Of Hir catching hold of Kaido :-
Hir overtook Kaido on the way,
pretending at first to speak in mirth. 
But coming near she roared like a tiger,
shedding tears of wounded pride. 
Snatching away his cap and stole
she threw him down with a violent thud. 
The devil must have been thrown from heaven
thus by the angels, Waris, on earth.
 Of Hir's threats to Kaido :-
Throwing him down, Hir said, 'sir uncle,
return my pudding if you care for your life. 
'Otherwise I'll beat the breath out of you.
and none will save you here from me. 
'You dare pick quarrels with us girls,
I'll dangle you from the nearest tree.
'Now if you have an iota of shame,
give back the pudding, or come to grief.'
 Of Kaido's plaint to the villagers :-
Still Kaido was able to carry a portion
to show it to the village folk. 
And on this proof he rated them
for not believing him before. 
'Will no one here put Chuchak wise,
and make him beat some sense into her? 
'She goes to the herdsman in the wood,
who does not care if people talk.'
 Of Chuchak's answer :-
'He is carrying tales in vain,' says Chuchak,
'Hir goes to the river but with her friends. 
'She swings on trees but with her friends,
or in the homesteads with them spins. 
'This Kaido is just a bearer of tales,
his friarship is all a farce. 
'Sometimes with jugglers takes he hemp,
or else with mediums he will dance. 
'How can a scavenger be a priest,
how can a sheep turn into a horse ? 
'And peasants', cobblers', oilmens' sons,
can never indeed be reverends.'
 Of women of the village 
complaining to Hir's mother:-
Women come to Maliki and complain,
'Your daughter has taken to evil ways. 
'We, aunts and cousins, are dying for shame,
our hearts are all aroast within us. 
'Qazi Shams-ud-din has always said,
marry off a wayward daughter at once. 
'When girls go out with servants alone,
it is a slap in the parents' face. 
'Your daughter is proud as a countess, indeed,
and the herdsman goes about as a count.
'And people are so scandalised,
at Hir's misconduct that they rant.' 
 Of Kaido's remonstrances with Maliki:-
'O Maliki, marry off your girl!
O witch, for the fear of God, take heed! 
'Or cut her to pieces and with brands
burn up the corpse, to avoid the taint. 
'You laugh at the antics of your daughter,
a heartless wanton, you will repent. 
'Or throw her into a cellar in
an earthen urn and put on the lid.' 
 Of Maliki's anger:-
Going red with anger, Maliki cries
to Mithi, the barber-woman, to run 
And find out Hir and bring her home,
telling the witch her mother calls; 
'That witch with a tail, that meek-looking doe,
a wanderer of woods and dales. 
'A lost creature, like Waris Shah,
'who takes delight in causing pain.' 
 Of how Maliki rebukes Hir:-
Hir comes to Maliki, smiles and says,
'Look, mother, I have come at a run.' 
But Maliki angrily retorts,
'You'll ruin us, Oherdsman's maid. 
'I'll have you thrown deep into a well,
you prattler, who were better dead! 
'What passion has taken hold of you,
that you so badly need a man? 
'If a grown-up daughter misbehaves,
it is best to quietly finish her off. 
'A woman should care for the honour of her house,
and not with servants flirt, or laugh.' 
 She threatens her with dire consequences:-
'Your brother Sultan, should he come to know,
will put an end to all your whims.
'You have sullied the good name of your father:
what prompts you thus to give us pain? 
'You have cut our nose, disgraced the house.
and all our love has been in vain. 
'I'll tell the herdsman off tonight,
we do not want him any more. 
'And take off all your jewelry,
no good to you these trinkets are. 
'Indeed, I think, you much deserve
a thrashing that should warm your limbs.'
 Of Hir's challanging reply:-
'This herdsman is a gift of God,
O mother you are so fortunate, 
'That a man like him should come to hand,
the whole world would bend low in prayer. 
'As God has willed, so has it happened,
your blaming me is most unjust. 
'The men of God should not be teased,
who have dyed their robes in ash and dust.' 
That is why, O Waris, the wise have said:
woman, sword and love should not go bare. 
For those who carry the burden of love,
will not demur to force or fate.
 Of Maliki taking counsel with Chuchak :-
'Hard luck, O husband,' Maliki grieves,
'this girl has brought disgrace all round. 
'The neighbours taunt, the whole world mocks,
and laughter greets us everywhere. 
‘She has taken as lover the cowherd Ranjha,
and all the Syals are put to shame. 
'And when I try to counsel her,
she challenges, hurls back the blame. 
'O we have had enough of him,
take back the herds, pack off the man,
'Or let us drown the girl in a pool,
even if the Book makes it a sin. 
'Best were to marry her off at once,
this scapegrace has made grace so rare.' 
Ah, Waris has, too, been ruined by love,
though God made him of noble kind.
 Of Chuchak's regret:-
O wife, we should have strangled to death
this daughter of ours at her birth. 
'You ought to have given her a draught of poison
which is now offered us to quaff; 
'Or thrown her into a violent stream,
or drowned her in a sewage trough; 
'Or buried her, shedding fear of God,
like Croesus' treasures under the earth.'
 Of Chuchak's displeasure:-
At eve when the herds came back to fold,
there was a frown on Chuchak's brow. 
'Your ways do not seem to be of the best,
please let us be, make for your home. 
'Tell him, O wife, he is needed not,
let him return from where he came. 
'In public places they laugh at us;
we are pursued by neighbours' taunts. 
'We did not want him for a bull
to lead our daughters to pasture-haunts.' 
Fortify yourselves against the evil,
Waris, the word of God is so.
 Of some things of wisdom:-
Thank God for bread when you spread the cover,
it is not nice to revel like mad. 
All is made for man to eat and drink,
but do so wisely, says the Lord.*
In heaven and earth, and also in water
this is indeed the holiest word. 
But God's is the providence, Chuchak may
take back his cattle for all he would.

(*A quotation from the Kuran.)
 Of Ranjha leaving Chuchak's house:-
Full sick at heart of the land and its people,
as if he heard ghost voices there, 
Ranjha goes off, leaving the herds behind,
throwing off his crook and blanket of wool, 
As a thief when he hears footsteps in the street,
will run from where he has broken the wall. 
'I do not care a straw for your herds,
only Hir's insistence kept me here.

'Now may your buffaloes go to the thieves
and the calves be likewise lifted away! 
'I will not now care even for Hir,
overvalue her much as you may. 
'Just for your cattle at dead of night
I have faced much peril in the wood. 
'The herds entire now follow me,
please fold them safely in their pen. 
'My wages even you will not pay,
you think I am so craven and mean. 
'For twelve long years I have tended your cows,
and now for you I am no good.

‘Like a usurer, master of his books,
you make your debts look mountain-large. 
'You keep your daughter under your roof
and throw me out stripped to the skin; 
'And like a peddlar, plundered and robbed,
shiftless I go, in sun and rain.' 
Man makes a rent coming into this world,
then cannot, Waris, fulfil his charge.
 Of Chuchak's sorrow over the condition of the herds:-
The herds were running frantic now,
and the other herdsmen all had failed. 
Many heads were lost, drowned in the river,
or killed by beasts, or just strayed off. 
The Syals themselves, their dignity lost,
went after the herds, with crook and staff. 
And Chuchak, indeed, was much aggrieved,
for the herds were not to be controlled.
 Of Hir protesting to her mother:-
'The herdsman driven away at last,
you are mighty glad, mother, I am sure. 
'But God's alone is providence,
and you indeed are no one's God. 
'The cattle have been clogged down in bogs.
or gone astray in the midst of the wood. 
'Being robbed of one's reward, you know,
is not a pleasant thing to feel; 
'And you should know, too, that the wrath
of God most certainly will fall 
'On herds and sons of those like you
who are oppressors of the poor.' 
 Of Maliki counselling Chuchak to bring Ranjha back:-
Maliki reports to Chuchak thus:
'People all around curse us and swear. 
'"He had grazed your cattle for twelve long years,
and never complained even once,''' they say. 
'"And now, not paying his dues, you tell
him haughtily to go his way.'" 
'Go after him to bring him back,
for a poor man's curse is hard to bear.'
 Of Chuchak's reply:-
Says Chuchak, 'You may bring him round
to stay till the girl is married away.
'When she is put in the palanquin as bride.
we shall turn him out should he protest. 
'What harm indeed can he do to the girl?
We shall make him serve as may be best. 
'We Jats are known as shrewd and sly,
for once a Jat's trick let us play.'
 Of Maliki seeking Ranjha out:-
Maliki goes about to seek him out
in the place of assembly of Chuchak's peers. 
'In a fit of gloom our Ranjha has left,
has anybody seen him here or there? 
'My daughter Hir has sent for him
to wash the paint on the legs of her couch.' 
Ranjha yawns up from the floor where he slept,
'Chief of the homeless, here I crouch.' 
Like a novitiate to a yogi sect,
he'd shaved off clean his locks of hair; 
Full of regrets, he yawned and sobbed,
feeling like a thief caught by pursuers.
 Of Maliki bidding Ranjha be of good cheer:-
'The Khan was harsh with you,' says Maliki,
but do not take his words to heart. 
'What quarrel can be between fathers and sons?
you are to earn for us to dine. 
'Go after the herds, and with my blessing,
and safe and sound return at dusk. 
'To milk the cows, put the milk to sour,
and make Hir's bed is all your task. 
‘The girl is cross from yesterday,
come soothe her as alone you can. 
'The herds, the lands, Hir, all are yours,
enjoy yourself as the lord of lords.' 
But Ranjha all obdurate, replies,
'I care not for your daughter or your herds.
'What do I own in this alien land?
For Takht Hazara I must depart.'
 Of word between Ranjha and Hir:-
'Why does your mother now cling to me
ever since last night?' Ranjha flings at Hir. 
'Dear, do her bidding,' she pleads with him,
'she is my mother, and I am all yours. 
'Who knows what way the wind may blow?
And we may have to wait for years.' 
Ah, Waris, in this business of love
none ever has profited, it is clear.
 Of Ranjha agreeing to Maliki's request:-
Thus bowing down to the wishes of Hir,
Ranjha takes the cattle out into the wood. 
And as it scatters over the pasture,
he plunges into the river to cool, 
And Hir like providence follows him,
with curds and cakes and barley-meal; 
When, lo! the five kind saints appear
and beckon to them both, man and maid. 
 Of the advice of the five saints to Hir and Ranjha:-
With folded hands the lovers stand
and the saints address the two as thus: 
'Pray to the Lord, O children, you,
let not your love suffer ever a blot. 
'To keep our good will, you should know,
you must not waver in deed or thought. 
'Keep in your thoughts day and night the Lord,
render Him nothing but thanks and praise.'

VIII.

 Of the Kazi's advice to Hir:-
As Hir comes home back from the wood,
she finds the Kazi waiting for her.
Her father and mother around him, he
asks her to come And listen to them.
And in words all soft and honey sweet, 
he tenders advice that is ever the same. 
'It will not do to be free with servants; 
What do we know where they belong? 
'At home among friends of the spinning-wheel, 
good girls beguile themselves with song, 
'In a spinning match on a brand new wheel, 
how sweet the songs of the Chanab are!

'You know, O Hir, your father, Chuchak
is head and chief of village and tribe. 
'Give due regard to their honour, your people
bear among the Jats a name. 
'It's not for maidens to roam about;
one of these days messengers may come. 
'Move modestly, with downcast looks,
for that is what the wise prescribe. 
'We are making arrangements for your troth
and elsewhere there is equal stir.' 
Ah, Waris, in a few days now
the Kheras will come with fan and flare.
 Of Hir's reply:-
Hir says, 'O mother, never can
an addict give up opium. 
'I cannot live without this Ranjha,
inveterate habits know no cure. 
'The tiger cannot live without flesh
with a tearing blow he earns his fare. 
'Like taint of mango-juice or steel
the taint of love for ever remains. 
'Heads may be felled, the love-diseas
does not admit of remedy. 
'I will respect your every wish.
but one wish I cannot obey.
'So is it willed by fate, indeed,
none can undo what fate ordains. 
'For I got my Ranjha from the court of heaven,
God himself made me a gift of him.' 
 Of Chuchak declaiming in anger to Maliki:-
'Shear off her tresses, pull out her hair,
then wring her neck and bury her deep-
'Yes, batter her skull with the churn, I say,
and break her back with a wooden splice. 
'Rip out her bowels with a sickle,
stick needles into the balls of her eyes. 
'For you may plead with her as you might,
she will not agree to give him up.' 
 Of Maliki's warning to Hir:-
'She will get her head chopped off her trunk,
should a daughter arouse her father's wrath. 
'And the severed head is thrown in a stream,
and the trunk is left to dogs and crows, 
'As Sasi13 was thrown in the river by her father,
the Jam, you know how the story goes. 
'A father needs must kill a daughter
that goes astray from virtue's path. 
'Indeed with injured pride, a father
may cast his daughter in a burning pit. 
'For if we make short work of the wicked,
we do not have to answer for it.' 

(13. Sasi: Heroine of another love legend of 
Sind and Panjab.Misled by astrologers that 
the daughter newly born to him would bring 
disgrace to the royal house, the Jam, ruler of 
Bhambor, got the infant enclosed in a casket, 
and put it to float on the current of the river. 
He had enough precious stones put in it to 
serve to bring her up, should anybody pick 
up the casket downstream. This actually 
happened and the picker-up, a washerman 
named Ata, brought Sasi up as almost a 
princess. When the girl grew up she fell in 
love with a travelling merchant-prince, 
Punnu. This love did not fare well. Punnu 
was snatched away from her side by 
Punnu's kinsmen and Sasi set out in pursuit 
of him through waste-land and sandy desert, 
where she died of heat and thirst.)
 Of Hir's reply:-
'O mother, he who kills his daughter
shall be charged at doom of a cardinal sin. 
'He shall have to eat what he had killed,
to make a meal of the daughter's flesh. 
'I am a humble slave of yours,
and will respect your every wish. 
'But as for Ranjha, his I am
by sacred oath, why bring him in?'
 Of Hir's brother Sultan remonstrating with his mother:-
All in a rage comes brother Sultan.
'Give this last warning, mother, to Hir. 
'Not a moment will I let her be,
if I see her ever again in the wood. 
'Henceforth she must seclude herself.
otherwise she shall not keep her head. 
'And the cowherd must never enter her quarters.
else he'll be cut and quartered the same. 
'You have not kept her in control,
and she has put us all to shame. 
'The right thing to do by a shameless daughter
is to throw her deep in the bottomless river.'
 Of Hir's protest to her brother:-
I'll give my life for you, dear brother,
but there is a point of no return. 
'For no amount of effort can
divert a river from its bed. 
'When it is given a dagger thrust,
the heart, poor thing, cannot but bleed. 
'The fruit of love will ripen on
a severed head. It is not wise 
'All of a sudden to stop the bowels,
so do the books of physic advise.'
Such is the tragic path of love
that admonitions serve no turn.
 Of the Kazi's protests to Hir:-
O Hir, why are you courting death?
Fear God's own wrath,' the Kazi cries. 
'Your tongue needs pulling out from your throat,
I am afraid of your blood being shed. 
'The moment I pronounce the law, 
off from your shoulders flies your head.
'Not heeding your mother, you invite God's wrath
and daggers to tear your shameless eyes.'

IX.

 Of Ranjha invoking the aid of the five saints:-
'Mother, father, and Kazi all went for me,
but I have failed not in my part.'
Says Hir, and Ranjha invokes the saints
as he hears from her to this effect. 
He prays to them with folded hands
and the flow of tears is not checked. 
'My Hir is brought to bay, the Kazi
and all her people threatening worse. 
'Help me for the sake of God, O saints,
my love will go to ruin else.' 
'What trouble besets you, child,' they ask,
'that puts such tremors in your heart?'

The saints bid him be of good cheer,
and put the lover quite at ease. 
'To help your Hir is now the charge
of the most revered Jahania, 
Who as you know is one of us.
And let us have some music now.' 
And the peasant plays the flute, so well
that the saints are moved to lend him grace. 
 Of the pleasure of the saints concerning Ranjha :-
Well pleased, the saints say, 'You shall have
whatever be your heart's desire. 
'To you we give this day this girl,
so steeped in love's celestial hue. 
'But we will not give you the beggar's sack,
nor make her a begger to tramp with you, 
'Not a beggar-miad at her father's house,
elopement is not best for her.
'But nevertheless we are pleased with you
and grant your prayer. Hir shall be yours. 
'And you shall have whatever you wish,
for we will be your providence. 
'Go, play your flute to your herds and make
the wood resound with music, and dance.'
Ah, Waris, in this way the saints
bestow on man unlimited favours.
 Of Ranjha and Hir making plans:-
'Come, sit with me, O Hir,' says Ranjha,
let us devise some secret plans, 
'Unknown to your father and mother and others
who are, you know, so over-wrought. 
'I must not be seen in the homes of the Syals;
they will, I am sure, forgive me not. 
'But Mithi, the barber-woman, must
be taken into our confidence. 
'By day or by night her house shall be
our meeting-place, if she will oblige.' 
Hir goes to Mithi and puts five mohurs
in her hand, 'Give us a rendezvous 
'In your house. None of the girls may know
This secret which we share with you.' 
Even though we feast on our own, Waris,
It must be hidden from public gaze.
 Of the barbers' house and the goings-on there :-
Close to the pen of the cattle for the night,
there the house of the barbers stood. 
The wife did the chores in peasant homes
and the husband would ran errands for them. 
And like a youth at his father-in-law's
Ranjha played the lord in the barber's home. 
And as the night settled on the lanes
and it was time to go to bed,
Mithi made the bed, strewing flowers on it,
where the lovers like angels would alight, 
And the cattle sleeping at their owner's risk,
they passed the night in double bliss. 
Ere it was dawn she came to her chamber
and he would go into fields of rice; 
And each would engage in their daily tasks
and the barber's house was left in quiet.
 Of the pleasures of the riverside :-
And as the day arrived at noon
Ranjha would repair to the riverside, 
Where he brought his cattle for a dip
and she her maids for water sports. 
Standing in the stream, he would play the flute,
and they would sing in chorus or parts. 
If one would wring her braids in his face,
another would leap right on his head. 
And yet another of fragrant limbs
cling to his waist, rub cheek on cheek. 
And still another would throw a challenge.
and run and, as he chased her, dive. 
Another would shout, 'Herdsman, beware,
beware, your cow is going to calve.' 
If one would roll like a log in the water,
another would float corpselike on her back. 
And another pretend the melons of her uncle
were sour and bitter and swill it out. 
Another would dive deep down to the bottom
and bring out silt or mud for a bet.

They would assume a water-hen's shape,
of a red wag-tail or a water-thrush, 
Or a daddy long-legs, or a long-bill heron;
or like a wood-pecker peck and cluck, 
Or squeal like a water-mole or float
above the water heifer-like;
While Hir herself cuts circles round Ranjha
or swims like a rainbow-coloured fish. 
To catch this beau of Takht Hazara
in many shapes she casts her nets, 
And so this peasant girl displays
of coquetry full diverse feats.

X.

 Of Kaido coming again to 
remonstrate with Maliki:-
Says Kaido, 'O fool of a Maliki, your daughter
has set the village again to talk. 
'She goes to the river to cuddle the man,
breaking all rules of genteel birth. 
'She has not changed, you, Chuchak, the Kazi,
Sultan, her brother, have wasted breath.' 
Ah, Waris Shah, this limping knave
will never stop from raking muck.
 Of Maliki sending for Hir:-
'Look sharp, you, Alia, barber, man,
and bring Hir home at once to me. 
'And you, O cobbler Alafi, and
you cowherd Muazzam and fisherman Dau, 
'She has been out since early morn,
and it is close on sunset now. 
'Already the first of the herds are home,
but the girl is nowhere near to see.'
 Of the menials' warnings to Hir and Ranjha:-
Jhangar, the Dum,* and Fattu, the Kalal,**
and Bhulla, the sweeper, and the cowherd Jhanda 
Go to Hir and utter dire warning, 'Child,
what have you raised this storm about?
'Your mother is exceeding wroth with you.
and your father's fury will blow you out. 
'And you, O Ranjha, your life is in danger,
the Syals will surely kill you one day. 
‘They will throw you down into a well,
though you think yourself a clever chap. 
‘Like a parrot you enjoy pecking at the mango,
but the catapult ball will peck at your life. 
'Cold are the hearths of the Syals today,
the entire clan is drowned in grief.' 
To kill the orphan Ranjha, Waris,
conspiracy is brewing in the land of the Chanab!

(*The bard caste.
**The water-drawer or wine-seller caste.)
 Of Hir being reprimanded by her mother:-
Hir comes and curtsies to her mother,
but is received with liberal abuse. 
'Adultress, slave, devoid of shame,
all riddled with evil, black of face! 
'O run-away, bird of ill-omen,
to have turned your back on Allah's grace! 
'Midstream I will drown you tonight, O girl,
it seems your doom is drawing close.

'You have exhausted my patience, indeed,
it only remains to slaughter you now! 
'I warn you again to mend your ways,
Why must you be the cowherd's bride? 
'All like a cow in heat that goes
and rubs against the bull her hide! 
'You ought to be beaten like clothes being washed,
to have your skin striped red and blue.' 
 Of Hir's reply:-
'O mother, we go to swing and play
in the wood, and you rail like the devil at me. 
'The liar's soft mouth is filled with dirt,
why should you indulge in monstrous lies?
'And foul with falsehood's onion smell
the costly fragrance of the rose? 
'What sin have I committed, indeed,
for you to carp and cavil at me?'
 Of Maliki's railings again :-
'For ill-luck, you have earned no grace;
you have got your lovely shape defiled. 
'Daily you sin and daily repent,
much like a common hypocrite. 
'We have tried our best to show you the right,
but a dreadful curse is on you yet. 
'You are fed on milk and cream and butter,
and still you look so pale and wild.'
 Of Hir's reply again:-
'Enough, o mother, stop this swearing,
to swear, you know, is the devil's wont. 
'You slay a daughter to invite a curse,
for woman is the source divine. 
'O may some plague descend from heaven
and carry me from this place of sin! 
'But Ranjha I will never forsake,
though father, grandfather, great-grand-father rant.
 Of Hir's playmates inciting Hir:-
At once the playmates find out Hir
and whisper this into her ear: 
‘Kaido, the lame, denounces you,
indeed he is making too great a noise, 
'With the beat of a drum in the open street,
as those damned dancing players do. 
'You would not be true to your name, indeed,
unpunished if this were to go. 
'In such a manner we should deal with him
that all should say he reaps as he sows.'
Waris, how these fair sinners are provoked!
And all the worse for the lame old bear.
 Of Hir speaking to her playmates:-
Says Hir, 'Lead him into the close, and catch
him by the neck and gag his mouth; 
'Lift him by the waist, drag him by the leg,
and throw him down in a stinking pool. 
'Take up the fishermen's oars and cudgels
and beat into pulp this nosy fool; 
'Rob him of his rags, set fire to his hut,
he much deserves all that, in sooth.'
 Of Hir and her playmates beating Kaido :-
Breaking up into groups, Hir and the girls
deployed themselves in alley and lane, 
And as he entered the village close.
report at once was brought to Hir. 
Hemmed in like a potter's ass, poor Kaido
was stripped of his cape and beads of prayer 
By the amazons who, sticks in hands,
rushed at him like the Devil's own train. 
Snatching off his cap and coverlets,
they fastened his rosaries round his neck. 
They broke his bowl and flailed his legs
and dragged and threw him into the slush; 
They pulled his beard and battered his head,
and tore his clothes in a furious rush. 
They gave him kicks, or cuts with the switch,
or blows with cudgel, oar and stick. 
Like paddy they pounded the lame old rogue
or as the smiths beat brass or bronze. 
Come, saints, witness a thief's chastisement,
as the law of the royal Hir commands. 
 Of Kaido's resistance :-
Screaming like a savage, with tooth and nail
Kaido tore at their bodies, skirts and shawls.
Like stars acluster around the moon
or peacocks under a cloudy sky. 
Or pickets at a Lahore post,
the girls had gathered for the fray:
Kaido looked all dazed like the pheasant at the moon, 
and the furies burnt red and white like coals.
 Of the girls setting Kaido's hut on fire:-
Having beaten him into pulp, the girls
gather reeds and sedge for brands of fire. 
And set his hut aflame and burn
to ash its mats and coverlets; 
And drive away his dogs and fowls,
break pots and pans into shards and bits, 
And then return, as the royal hosts did
after sack of Mathura to Lahore.
 Of Kaido's plaint before the Syals:-
Wailing aloud, Kaido comes to the village,
besmeared with blood, bespattered with mud; 
Complains to the elders, asks for justice
against the violence done to him. 
'I suffer this for my love of truth,
as Farihad did for his love of a dame. 
'In sack-cloth I shall go to the king,
and get this village razed to the ground. 
'Or you may take me to the Kazi;
this wrong must not go unavenged.' 
O Waris, these fools react to love
only this way, to be battered and bled.
 Of Chuchak's reply:-
Hence, hence, O limping rogue,' says Chuchak,
‘you are so deft at kicking up rows. 
'You are the chief of thieves and robbers,
a noted agent of the thugs.
'You start it and then you go about crying,
as is the way of knaves and rogues.' 
This Kaido is a shape of the Devil, Waris.
source of all evil, of all woes.
 Of Kaido describing his sad plight:-
'I have been beaten into pulp with cudgels,
and into the fire my hut has gone. 
'The girls have broken my pestle and mortar,
and torn my quilts and mats into rags; 
'Ruined my beds of hemp and poppy,
and driven away my fowls and dogs. 
'Robbers and bandits do rob the rich,
these wantons have robbed my humble demesne.'
 Of the Syals' annoyance with Kaido:-
'You graft your lies so well on truth
and discord is the crop you sow. 
'Part son from father, and daughter from mother,
alienating friend from friend. 
'You are addicted so to evil,
your machinations know no end: 
'Go hence, O churl, leave us alone,
we are quite annoyed and done with you.' 
 Of Kaido repeating his plaint:-
'For fear of God, give me justice, elders,
in public I have been assailed. 
'The bowl of my preceptor broken,
I am uprooted like weeds and grass. 
‘My bones all broken into splinters,
I have been beaten like an ass. 
'They have done me terrible wrong, indeed;
I have lost my all,' still Kaido wailed.
 Of the elders summoning and questioning the girls:-
The elders summon the girls and ask,
'Why did you assault this lame fakir?
'How could you be so thoughtless all 
or did you first determine his guilt? 
'No doubt you've been most cruel to him.
he weeps and wails without a halt. 
'Tell us for what misdeed of his
you beat him like a pilferer.'
 Of the girls' reply:-
They bite their fingers in mock-surprise;
'O he will stop at nothing at all. 
'He pinches our cheeks and pulls our breasts,
and sniffs at our behinds for smells. 
Strips off his loin-cloth and then bares
in front of us his genitals; 
'Goes searching where we relieve ourselves,
and sniffs the place for a menstrual fall.'
 Of Kaido's wailings again:-
'O fathers of daughters, this will not do,
poor Kaido, wailing, cries again. 
'It is true I am nobody with you,
I live upon the crumbs you throw. 
'But parrots spoil the fruit in your orchards
and you hang for it the poor crow. 
'When the chief among you are also the robbers.
whom, indeed, can I arraign?'
 Of the Syals consoling Kaido :-
'Have patience, Kaido,' the elders say,
'It is foolish of them to tease you so.' 
But still he complains they side their daughters,
and still they make light of his pleas. 
They wipe his tears to give him comfort,
and seek to decieve him into peace. 
Blind rulers of a benighted city,*
they put him off with little ado.

(*A Panjabi saying.)
 Of Chuchak's reply to Kaido :-
'Bring me once upon them,' Chuchak says,
'I will behead both maid and man. 
'Or send him packing once for all,
there is for the wicked here no place. 
'Yes, blood shall flow, for we are not
a pack of cripples all of us.' 
'O you will catch them in the act,
the sinners are human after all. 
'If after that you do not kill,
you are a craven imbecile.' 
Ah, Waris, so we see a war
between the old and the young is on. 
 Of Kaido consulting with himself:-
Kaido says to himself, planning thus;
they go to the wood and make love, sure. 
But on my evidence alone,
he will not wring his daughter's neck. 
They will not hang a village entire
for killing but one sheep of a flock. 
And yet to warm himself the devil
will set all village huts afire! 
 Of Kaido concealing himsef in the wood:-
Like a dog on a hearth on a wintry night
Kaido goes and hides himself in the wood. 
At breakfast time to meet her lover,
Hir comes afrisking with her maids. 
They tread the bushes, bringing down
red-berries on the ground in loads, 
Till the wood is made a carpet of red;
but Kaido keeps all mum like dead. 
 Of Hir and Ranjha coming together :-
When after reddening sod and turf,
the girls make exit from the stage, 
Come the lovers to their meeting-place
and the cattle roam to the river-side.
And as they lie in love's embrace.
old Kaido quickens his limping stride. 
And at the feet of the village elders.
flings down his turban for a gage.
 Of Chuchak's going after Hir and Ranjha:-
So utterly defamed and humbled,
poor Chuchak feels stabbed at the heart, 
Soon is he on his way to the wood,
his scimitar flashing lightning-like. 
When a gentleman would sink within,
old Kaido wears a triumphant look. 
And at the clang of the horse's hoofs,
Hir hears the warning with a start.
'Oh, get up, Dhido, father comes,
withdrawing from his side, she says. 
'Forgive me, father, never again
shall I be here alone,' she pleads. 
'They have hid somewhere or gone their ways,
they have played a trick with me, these maids.' 
She makes pretence as the stalking cat
will hold his breath to catch the mouse.
 Of Chuchak's reaction:-
As he sees the two alone together,
in anger Chuchak flashes red. 
With downcast eyes, Hir slinks away,
with cups and plates tucked under her arm. 
And Chuchak retorts, 'I assure you, child,
of broken limbs and further harm. 
'Indeed, what an enormity
that a maid should roam thus in the wood !'
 Of Hir's explanation:-
'This Dhido goes after the herds
and no one cares to bring him food.
'In future I shall care not, either,
forget now, father, what is past is past.'
Like one all numb and drowsy with hemp
or hemlock, Chuchak stands aghast, 
And then decides he with himself,
the girl must soon be made to wed.

XI.

 Of Ranjha's brothers in Takht Hazara 
coming to know his whereabouts:-
When Ranjha came to the Syals, and took
charge of their cattle as a herd, 
In time they heard in Takht Hazara
and Ranjha's brothers felt mortified. 
They sent a letter to the Syals,
full of the pride of birth and blood. 
'You have kept for cowherd Mauju's son,
Oh, such has been the will of the Lord. 
'He left us in a huff and we
have searched for him throughout the land. 
'All these past years we have tilled and improved
the fields which he had then disowned.

'He lives for ever in our thoughts,
our women weep to think of him. 
'Let him come and take his share from us
of all the harvests we could raise. 
'As a grazier he has shamed us all,
we have thousands of cattle at home to graze. 
'And if one day he leaves your herds
to robbers, we must bear no blame.

'Please do oblige us, send him back,
or we shall come in a body to you. 
'Most humbly we beg pardon of him,
whatever our sins, all seven of us.
'We send this letter to ensure
that you are left with no excuse. 
'Or we shall come, his brothers and their wives
and the elders of the village, too.'
 Of Chuchak's reply:-
'He is my daughter's serving-man,'
thus Chuchak to the Ranjhas wrote. 
'He holds all people here in awe,
the herdsmen all accept his lead. 
'I have kept him here for being a Jat,
would throw him out else for a cad. 
'Why did you send him away from home?
He is not a cripple, nor a sot. 
'He has so fine a head of hair,
the rings on his ears look passing fine. 
'He does not care for anyone else,
waits day and night on Hir alone.'
 Of the sisters-in-law writing to Hir:-
In dudgeon, too, the sisters-in-law
wrote thus to Hir in stinging terms: 
'We own you are prettier than us all,
but why indulge in passion thus? 
'Our brother-in-law is a gallant youth,
he left home after a row with us. 
'Please send him back, do us a favour,
as you would give a beggar alms.

'O do not rob us of our wealth,
we fear the sharp steel of your eyes. 
'Why should you covet our precious lad?
One gets what is sent him from above. 
'Look out for an older, worth-while fellow
our boy is yet too young for love.' 
And Waris runs with this to Hir,
the job of an errand-boy he knows.
 Of Hir's reaction to this letter :-
And when this letter was brought to Hir,
so full of bitter complaints and taunts, 
She got the scribe to read it out
and pondered over each word enough. 
In brief it read, 'Send, back our boy,
he parted from us all in a huff. 
Hir sends for Ranjha and conveys
to him the letter's full contents.
 Of Ranjha's reply to his sisters-in-law:-
Writes back he, 'Brothers and sisters-in-law,
you made me leave what was my home. 
'You robbed me of my heritage,
my lands, and cast me then aside. 
'You gave me nothing except sharp words,
and never fulfilled any promise you made. 
'And, brothers refusing me my share,
you ploughed my land by naked force. 
'Both men and women, you humbled me,
you killed my hopes, you deadened my cheers. 
'You challenged me to seek Hir of the Syals,
and drove me out to wander and roam. 
'Here I am in the service of Hir,
who has with kindness won my heart. 
'And now you ask for my return,
I suppose, to try afresh your art.'
 Of Hir's reply:-
Consulting Ranjha, Hir calls the scribe
and answers back the challenge thus: 
'I understand your feelings well
but it has grieved me all the same. 
'I have kept him here to graze my herds,
and never mean to part with him. 
'Never shall the leaf go back to the stalk,
nor can you repair broken glass.
'Nor ashes ever return from the Ganga.
nor can you ever bring back the past. 
'Nor ever do dice return to the hand,
and I will hold him ever and fast.'
 Of the sisters-in-law's counter-challenge:-
'If you think yourself more fair than we.
you do not know what beauties we are. 
'God knows we are slaves of our brother-in-law.
all seven of us as long as we live. 
'We are mad about him all of us,
for good or bad, you may believe. 
'He shall be the moon in the midst of us,
and we around him each a star. 
'He may abuse us, beat us even,
we shall be glad to be quartered and cut. 
'Ever since he left us we are shedding
tears of blood and cursing our fate.

'We shall give you another in his place,
and shall be much obliged indeed. 
'As Yogis shave their disciples' heads,
so are we shorn maid-slaves of love. 
'We beg of him with folded hands
not to roast us in the fire alive. 
'We are utterly lost without our Dhido,
like a flock of cranes without the lead.'
 Of Hir's second reply:-
Unknown to her father Hir writes to the women,
hoping to find them in good cheer, 
And as is the way of writing in letters,
wishing them health, affirms her own. 
'But what you say about Ranjha my love
is not quite proper, you will agree. 
'Why are you after him so much ?
He is in truth in love with me.
'And I love him, with the Kuran to witness,
I have taken an oath in the mosque. 
'And when we sit at the spinning-wheels
our songs are songs of him alone. 
'In the moning he leads out the herds
to the wood, and that is his daily task; 
'And back at eve he repairs to the mosque
to join with Warish Shah in prayer.'
 Of another letter of Hir's:-
'I would give my life to see his face,
his diet is a glass of milk with bread. 
'He cries all day : 'There is none but God;'
reciting : 'He is deathless, living for ever.' 
'The herds are left to the care of the prophets
like Khizr and Lot, and the saints of God. 
'You seem to have nothing to do with him
but quarrel, at which you are so clever. 
'When he was of you, you railed at him,
and called him a fool born of a fool. 
'I, body and soul, belong to him,
and yet he is one whom flesh cannot soil.'
 Of the second letter from Ranjha's sisters-in-law:-
'What should be ours belongs to you.
strange are the ways of the world, indeed. 
'You gave him birth, you have brought him up.
he is nothing at all to his brothers and to us. 
'Having robbed the owners of their wealth,
you set up as a banker, that is fine. 
'You came for fire, became housewife,
and swept him of his heritage clean. 
'A cad has fallen for a slut,
as the husk of rice falls to a mouse, 
'May the curse of the Lord fall on you, Hir,
you have estranged him from his blood.'
 Of Hir's reply to the above:-
'O don't be after him so much.
there is no profit in this trade. 
'I will not live away from him,
to him my life is dedicate. 
'He roams in wood and moor and risks
his life for me, 'mid beast and brute. 
'He toils and moils on my behalf,
and with my love shall be repaid.

'You did not care to be his sisters,
and cast him off as a worthless load; 
'His brothers drove him out of home,
for the sake of some few acres of land. 
'And now he says he will not come
even if you bring the law's remand, 
'He left his home bereft of hope,
as a bead slips off a silken thread.'
 Of the poet's observations:-
However much it is whetted on stone,
a sword will better shine in use. 
The blot will never never be wiped
off the name of the chief of the Syal. 
For the sake of her paramour, they'll say,
their daughter thwarted one and all. 
And as for Waris, let women know
he can be purchased at no price.

XII.

 Of Chuchak taking counsel with his kinsmen:-
Chuchak tells a council of his kin,
his daughter should be married away. 
'We may give her to Ranjha if you approve, 
or she may be wedded to someone else.
'We should so plan it that the coin
of our clan's honour ring not false.' 
'To be sure, O Chuchak, let us call
some man of the law, the kinsmen say.
'We never allied ourselves with the Ranjhas,
their sons could never marry our girls. 
'To add to it, he is a servant.
and she the daughter of the best of us. 
'Let us give her to a youth of the Kheras,14
with whom our clan has age-old ties.' 
Look, Waris, how they are trying to bury
beneath gun-powder burning coals.

(14. A Jat clan)
 Of the Kheras' barber having come with the proposal:-
'The barber of the Kheras has come
to say they will deem it such a favour. 
'It is noble of them to knock at our door,
and we may also prove not mean. 
'It is our well-considered advice
that you should gladly say amen. 
'This life is a highly precarious possession,
one should not be proud of self and power. 
'With faith in God give this girl to the Kheras,
do not for a moment hesitate. 
'For, Chuchak, pride will prosper never,
we may not forget the Pharaoh's fate.'
 Of Chuchak calling the elders together :-
Now Chuchak's word went round to call
together the elders of the clan. 
With a mohur of gold and weight of sugar,
they pledged their virgin daughter's troth, 
Retainers remark it is, indeed,
a union of two pillars of the faith. 
The drum is beaten and peasant wives
and daughters come with bowls of grain
Full to the brim, and sugar-cakes
for wedding gifts, and sing and dance. 
Only Hir and Ranjha are sick at heart
and bitter against the elders' plans.
 Of the messages of congratulations to the Kheras :-
As the Kheras receive the cheerful news
they sing and dance in utmost joy; 
Collect in groups for frolic and fun
and flaunt their good luck all around. 
Delighted at union with a house
well-known and honoured throughout the land, 
They dole out sweets and milk and rice
cooked in big cauldrons for the day.
 Of Hir's quarrel with her mother:-
Hir quarrels with and scolds her mother
for pledging her troth against her will, 
'When did I ask you for a groom?
You have acted as from an ancient grudge. 
'Unwise are they, O mother, who lay
bricks meant for a tower in a drain of sewage. 
'Why do you now distort the facts?
Like thieves you have carried out this deal. 
'You have joined the swan to an owl, indeed,
to a satyr given a fairy maid. 
'You are eager to suck a cane of sugar
all at once, not node by node.'
 Of Hir holding counsel with Ranjha:-
The dreadful has happened, O Ranjha,' says Hir,
'make haste and hie from here if you can. 
'Let us take a long long road together,
to live we do not need much space. 
'You may never expect me back again,
if once I go to the Kheras' place.
'When my people decide to pack me off,
they will not listen to what I say. 
'Having entered the lists of love, for us
it is cowardly now to turn away. 
'When love is followed by the parting of ways,
dire is, indeed, the fate of man.' 
 Of Ranjha's chiding reply:-
‘There is no honour in love, O Hir,
if but elopement is the end. 
'I gather from your counsels now
that you would have me blacken my face. 
'You have kept me all along in the dark,
so full of deceit are woman's ways. 
'I was warned of woman destroying whole hosts,
when foolishly I forsook my land. 
'But I will not save my skin this way,
for I am not a bondman's son.' 
A goldsmith knows, indeed, O Waris,
the sound of a base and broken coin.
 Of the preparations for Hir's marriage:-
Mehr* Chuchak forgetting all promises made,
the wedding rites are put under way. 
Other daughters of the Syals approach
the jilted lover, all in a crowd. 
'They are preparing for her wedding,
invitations have gone abroad. 
'How will it go with you, O Ranjha,
who tended her herds for years if a day?

(*The title of a squire in West Panjab.)

'Why do you not collar the wench, O fool?
She has given you really such a raw deal. 
'How dreadful she chooses to go with them,
the Kheras are being feted and fed :
'Dishonouring all her pledges of love,
she is making her toilet of a bride. 
'If she were to fail you thus in the end,
why did she put you to all this toil ?

'Having made you climb the tower of her love
she has withdrawn the ladder from under your feet. 
'Put distance between yourself and her.
obey the writ of fate, be gone, 
'She has played you false and beaten you hollow,
perhaps you are reaping what you had sown. 
'The devil can say well done to her.
breaking all her vows, she has turned you out.'
 Of Ranjha's confident reply:-
'Why should I have to utter a word?
In silence will I suffer it all. 
'If God rewards my patience, Hir's
stay with the Kheras must be brief. 
'One day the heavens will tear apart
and the world will all be plunged in grief. 
'The patience of my suffering heart
will dig up the earth for my reward. 
'You are ignorant of the ways of love,
it will drink the cup of bitterness.' 
Where loud laments may not avail,
says Waris, silence brings success.
 Of the maids reproaching Hir:-
From Ranjha they go to Hir and say,
'Your lover, O Hir, sends us to you. 
'Throwing off his hook and rug and flute,
he is making for some unknown place. 
'Why did you infest his heart with love,
if in the end you would back out thus? 
'We have come to this conclusion indeed
that you have prepared to break your vow.
'And when we contemplate his fate,
we hardly can hold back our tears. 
'We have found out what is in your heart,
your faith in love begins to fail, 
'You are closing the fist of faith, O Hir,
and sending him off with an empty bowl. 
'He has got from love a fat reward,
and his journey's end will be hell or worse!'
 Of Hir's reply:-
Says Hir, ‘Disguise him as a girl,
and bring him here as one of you. 
'And keep it a secret from my father
and mother and from everyone else. 
'He must speak out in front of me,
and you will judge me true or false. 
'And I shall gladly then accept
whatever punishment is my due. 
'I have tired myself with telling him,
let us flee, there is no time to lose, 
'But he paid no heed then to my word,
and now the blubbers and sobs and cries.'
 Of Ranjha's being brought into Hir's presence:-
In such disguise at night the girls
bring Ranjha to face the challenge of Hir. 
Says Hir in joy, 'O God be praised,
my love has walked into my yard.' 
And Ranjha retorts, 'You are going to wed,
I come to watch the festive scene. 
'And the best that a sinner like me can do
is to repent of my life of sin. 
'The herds I tended along with the maid
are all now under the Khera's guard. 
'And when those thieves drive both away,
the lover will be given the boot. 
'These friends and relativities add,
your aunts from mother's and father's side 
'Are gathered now to sing and dance, 
and to the hour's festivities add. 
'The sun will now rise from the west 
as it will on the day of doom. 
'You wanted indeed to be a bride, 
quite lost to honour or to shame.
'What hope is there for the likes of me, 
before the Khera's wealth and might? 
'I can only trust you now to God, 
for you have given your heart elsewhere.'
 On the fixing of the day of wedding:-
The Kheras consult astrologers
abou auspicious day and hour. 
And Thursday night, the ninth of sawan.*
is fixed by the Brahmins** as the day. 
Third quarter of the night is the time,
appointed for the ceremony. 
There is joy and feast and revelry,
on both the Syal's and the Khera's part; 
And as the bridegroom's train arrives
deep curses rise from Ranjha's heart. 
Yes, Waris was the bridegroom's man,
with bow and arrows, all the quiver.

(*A month of the rainy season, 
third of the Indian solar calender.

**It is clear that in those early days 
of Islam in India the Hindus Islam still 
in part observed Hindu customs and rites.)
 Of Ranjha's plight:-
The weaker cannot even protest
as the stronger takes away his troth. 
'Devoid of all resource or help,
like a wounded snake he turns and twists. 
Writhing in body and in soul,
he may moot best were to kill or die.
The good in him remains unknown,
and none gives ear to his anguished cry. 
The poor are always given the lie,
the word of the rich no one contests. 
Even when he is robbed of house and home,
the weaker cannot open his mouth.
 Of the guests from the bride's side :-
Come beauties row on row such as
the houries of heaven would faint to see. 
And peasant women, lotus-faced,
and fragrance-laden adorn the yard. 
Of all twelve creeds and seven traditions,
they are all of fair figure and face. 
They sing and scoff and win applause
they chide, revile and even abuse. 
With gossamer shawls they cover their heads,
and silken lungies skirt their waists, 
They twist their necks to watch the show,
open their shawls to show their breasts. 
With mirror-attested looks they come
into the arena of romance. 
Wild peri-like village girls, they sing
in sweet, full-throated voices and dance. 
Like peddlars they display their breasts
and musk-pod navels thinly veiled. 
They clap theit hands and sway and sing,
of high romance, knight-errantry. 
They whirl about in ecstasy
and come and go in an endless line. 
Till the koel-sweet turn raven-hoarse
and some indeed fall out of tune.
 Of the priest's arrival and Hir's protest:-
The priest is called to do the rites,
but Hir is stubborn and over-wrought.
'I have pledged my troth to Ranjha, O Kazi,
why does my mother indulge in lies? 
'My faith I have bestowed on Ranjha.
she may give the Khera all else there is, 
'She is churning only butter-milk,
'Like the devil she pours poison in my throat.
while my poor life spills over the brim. 
'She looks for fish in a puddle of urine.
like a fisherman bereft of sight.' 
 Of the Kazi's advice:-
'If you care to live, submit to the law,'
the Kazi pronounces, sharp and grim. 
'Keep true to the faith that after death
you may be admitted to paradiise. 
'Then you will quaff in the garden of Eden
the sherbet of love of the sweetest relish. 
'Put on the veil of modesty.
why should you wear the sack of shame?'
 Of Hir's reply:-
Says Hir, 'To live is good, Sir Kazi,
but only if one lives in the truth.
'"All things are mortal, only God
is deathless," is the holy word. 
'My mother has broken the pledge she gave,
I will complain in the court of the Lord. 
'''All things I have created in pairs,"*
does He not say in the hoby Kuran? 
'The primal ox that carries the earth,
and the serpent bearing him in turn, 
'And earth and heaven, all fourteen worlds
bear witness to my dauntless faith. 
'For all the riches of this world
I will not cast on another an eye.
'Waris, I will keep my word with Ranjha,
for after all we have to die.'

(*A verse from the Kuran.)
 Of the Kazi's warning again:-
'Stray not from the path marked by Islam,
and from your heart root evil out. 
'Lay no store by this beauty and youth,
like spicy wine they go to the head. 
'The Lord's command, O peasant girl,
to man and woman is to wed. 
'So take the Khera as your spouse
by law, do not be obstinate.'
 Of Hir's reply again :-
'The believer's heart is the seat of God,
O Kazi, do not demolish His throne. 
'Where the love of Ranjha has lodged itself,
the Khera cannot hold his sway. 
'A ball in the catapult of love,
I will not fall, swing hard as you may. 
'Why I should sell my faith indeed
for life that must fall a prey to death?' 
Overcome with tears, she gets, up to say,
'O listen to my plea of faith. 
'My father and mother may break their pledge,
but I am Ranjha's troth, in fine. 
'Where does, O Sir, the book allow,
that one may break one's promised word? 
'I have given up all other support
and rest my hope in the Merciful Lord.'
 Of the Kazi's dire threats:-
'I'll have you flayed by the Sharaa's command,
as Umar Khitab's15 own son was flayed. 
'Or get you thrown on the blazing pyre
for all the world to see and learn.
'If you value your life, accept the Khera
and never breathe of Ranjha again. 
'Shut fast your eyes to the world's temptations,
no more than the shadow of a cloud.'

(15. Umar Khattab: Umar, son of Khattab, 
the second Caliph after Mohmamad, 
mentioned as the Prophet's friend, at 
beginning. He passed the sentence of 
flogging on his son for fornication. who 
died after receiving sixty cuts, and the 
remaining forty were struck on his grave.) 
 Of Hir's retort:-
The wicked must ever be planning to put
asunder hearts made one in love. 
'That they should be bribed to sell their faith.
even Kazis like you, learned and wise! 
'God wants them, maybe, to feed the fires
of Hell, so sinners even have a use. 
'I find myself caught in a trap
and hardly know what to believe.
 Of the Kazi's threat again:-
'They shall be lost who deviate from
the path of right to stray into sin. 
'Indeed they shall be threshed in the grave,
to separate the grain from the 'chaff 
'On the day of reckoning, and found
for the pit of hell not good enough.' 
Ah, Waris, these scarlet pawns of life
shall lose the game, and death shall win.
 Of Hir's affirmation of her resolve:-
‘My mother and father had promised indeed
to marry me to the man of my choice. 
'And I gave my word to Ranjha in turn,
which I will keep to the brink of the grave. 
'Hir shall at last be joined to Ranjha.
no power can defeat this love.' 
But the simple maid knows not the feed
of the tiger shall be thrown to the ass!
 Of the Kazi's remonstrances again:-
'Those who are wedded to the truth
are welcome in the court of God.
'And as they share their love with Him,
they are coveted guests in all the heavens. 
'But those who disobey the law
become the food of crows and ravens. 
'And having gone all stiff with pride,
are slaughtered like a goat at Id.*
'And those who cherish the flesh shall be
on the day of doom thrown into the fire. 
‘And those too clever iike the crow,
shall one day fall in the devil's snare.'

(*The Muslim festival.)
 Of Hir's further defiance:-
'Sir Kazi, I care for or fear
no other, being absorbed in one. 
'For those who are steadfast in faith
find favour with the Lord above. 
'They shall attain both honour and rank
who chant the magic word of love.' 
Waris, you have put in this your verse
the meaning of the Holy Kuran.
 Of the Kazi's advice to Chuchak:-
‘Hard nut to crack.' the Kazi remarks,
‘she will not yield to law or reason. 
'Before she causes more ado,
let us gag her and perform the rites. 
'She has left the mosque for the public place,
she values pigs more high than goats.' 
But, Waris, Hir has really churned
out butter from the curds of passion.
 of the Kazi sending for the elders of the Syal clan:-
He sends for the elders of the clan,
who come and settle on carpets and rugs. 
And the witnesses are summoned, too;
they also gather there and then.
This marriage makes a noise that'll ring
long in the assemblies of men. 
In dudgeon Hir protests, 'May God's
and the Prophet's curse be on you, thugs. 
'I won't put henna to my palms.
I'd rather be rolled and buried in dust.' 
The guests all slink away at this
as deer at sight of the tiger must.

 Of the marriage being performed against Hir's will:-
At last the marriage is solemnised,
and Hir pushed into the palanquin. 
With a wealth of jewelry and costly dresses,
and many other luxuries of a spouse; 
And gold and silver and precious stones
and horses and camels, buffaloes and cows. 
But Hir's refusal to go with the Khera
is shameful for the entire clan. 
The Kheras, adept at lifting cattle,
will carry the wench away by force. 
Thus torn apart by fate, poor Hir
and her love are left with little resource.
 Of the buffaloes refusing to move without Ranjha:-
The buffaloes, breathing fire and fury,
would not without Ranjha move a foot. 
They kick up dust and noise and rush
at passers-by, break pots and pans. 
And the Syals are obliged to go to Ranjha
who is feigning sleep or a mystic trance. 
They touch their brows with the dust of his feet
as worshippers do to propitiate 
A saint. They gather round the man
like pilgrims at a holy shrine. 
They offer him pudding as if he were
Lord Shiva, all pearless and divine.
 Of the wedding-party's return to Rangpur Khera:-
They coax him enough to drive the cattle
and make him carry the trousseau on top. 
By day and night the Kheras march
and sunrise sees them back at home. 
At Rangpur the maidens with song and dance
of joy receive both bride and groom. 
Seven morsels of pudding they give them to eat
and place a male child in her lap.
 Of Hir's expressing her helplessness to Ranjha :-
'Dear Ranjha?' says Hir, 'I have tried my best;
but matters have gone now out of hand. 
'The Kazi and my parents have acted as tyrants
and given me into the Khera's control. 
'But I will never accept the Khera,
disharmony shall ever prevail. 
'Good-bye, God willing we shall meet again,
for the present our love has come to an end.' 
 Of Ranjha's bitter reply:-
'Whatever has been ordained by God,
shali come to pass; why should we wnine? 
'You have kept me out of everything,
such an ill-omened bird you are! 
'To save your skin in the battle of love
you will poison me without demur. 
'You have roused the sleeping dragon and
without a charm for the hornet's sting. 
'You had rather dismissed me from the first
than thus to wound me in the wing. 
'Ah, Waris, if you are not athirst,
why should you clink glasses of wine?'
 Of Hir's solicitous reply:-
'You can return to me, if you care;
I cannot come to you alive.
'As soon, therefore, as  I write to you.
show yourself there in a friar's robes. 
'Go to a yogi, be his disciple,
put ear-rings in your cleft ear-lobes. 
'Shave off your head, remove all marks
of birth and creed, for the sake of love.'
 Of Ranjha's cursing the Syals:-
'The Syals have proved all rotten and mean.
and Hir on the truth has turned her back. 
'When the matter was brought to the council of elders.
for shame Mehr Chuchak's head was bowed. 
'They break their word, and sell their daughters.
and yet go stiff-necked and arch-eyed. 
'You talk of the beards of the Syals? They are
but the husk of the lentil from the bog. 
'Fine outside, they are foul within,
and know only to boast and brag. 
'Ah, Waris, they will hang a stone
around a good-looking daughter's neck.'
 Of the poet's comments:-
The Jat is a liar and his word is not
to be trusted, it is a camel's fart. 
He is of the brotherhood only if
he is a score of times disgraced. 
They come to their senses only when
they roll in dust like a Brahmin's ass. 
Taking off the turban they put it under
the seat, what sense of cleanliness! 
They are pleased to see themselves being mocked
by mimics* or by the Mughal abused. 
To a stranger they will pledge a daughter,
betraying the rightful husband's part.

(*customary practice at weddings.)
 Of Ranjha's plaintive cry:-
'The elders have discarded truth,
and the Kazis have been suborned, it seems. 
'One is driven out for siding the right
and thieves and thugs are aldermen. 
'The word of a man is honoured not,
while tramps and pimps play the leading part. 
'Ravens take their delight of orchards and,
peacocks have to peck at dirt. 
'The Kheras have snatched from me my love,
and I have wept and wailed in vain. 
'In graveyards dwell the men of faith,
for having been turned out of their homes.'
 Of the poet's comments:-
The Syals are thugs without a doubt,
they teach their daughters to cheat and rob. 
Sweet-tongued, they made a cowherd of
one who was scion of a noble house. 
They eat their word, they break their vows,
and graft their daughters on other stalks. 
The Jats are breakers of houses, thieves,
waylayers and adulterers. 
Hiding under the beard of a saint the knife
of a butcher, they sit as councillors. 
All jats are thugs, but the chief of them all
are, Waris, these Jats of the Chanab.

Dogars and Jats will desecrate
temples, breaking all their vows. 
Their women are like them, too, and lead
their sons and daughters into sin. 
They have great admiration for
outlaws and thieves and highwaymen. 
They ridicule the man of prayer
and honesty and penance and faith.
Against their plighted word, they break
betrothels, challenging God and death.
They lead their daughters into bigamy even,
and prove in this their greatest foes.
 Of the wrist-band ceremony:-
Arrives the day of the wrist-band rite.
and the ring match between groom and bride.* 
Great is the noise about these things.
all are beside themselves with joy. 
Sits on the red stool Saida the groom
and the girls around the bride deploy. 
They push her hands into the pan
but her arms lie limp and loose like dead.

(*These rites have now fallen into disuse 
more or less. The bands red thread tied 
round the wrists of both bride and groom 
some days fore the wedding are untied by 
each other. Then a gold ring is thrown into 
a pan of water to see who, the groom or 
the bride can fish it out first. This is repeated 
seven times.)

Word has gone round, the peasant wives
and girls have come in flock and herd, 
Adorned with jewelry of all sorts,
nose-tops, ear-rings, bracelets, and wreaths 
Of jasmine, lily and rose in their hair
and scent and attar on their clothes. 
On this occasion, Waris, a feast
of fragrance overflows the yard.

Sitting on the walls the women shine
like rows of flames in chandeliars. 
In clothes just out from the washing-still
they shine in beauty, bright and pure.
And Saida flaunts himself among
them like the subedar* of Lahore. 
The house is all alive with colour
like flower-beds in the Shalamars.**

(*Governor of a suba or province 
under the Mughals. Faujdar,
similarly an officer of a lower rank. 

**The royal gardens in Lahore, laid 
by Jahangir, the Mughal emperor)

They group round Hir and place the pan
of milkwash right in front of her. 
And throwing the wedding-ring in it,
with coquetry they turn and swagger. 
At Saida's side Hir blanches pale
like the goat at the butcher's lifted dagger. 
And as the wives grow forward and pert,
she trembles in disgust and fear.

While the others shine like lotus blooms,
paleness spreads on Hir's wan cheek. 
She cannot find the ring in the water,
beacause her heart is not engaged. 
And when she is asked to loosen the thread
on Saida's wrist, she glowers enraged. 
She does not tackle at all the knot,
though they pull her arms to make them ache.

Bedevilled and humbled, the peasant-women
take sadly away the ring and pan. 
'We were looking for a welcome shower,' they grumble,
'and God has sent a hailstorm here. 
None has the heart to hold them back,
they leave in anger and despair. 
They guess Hir does not like the Khera,
for whom her heart is filled with scorn.