During a recent online discussion, Salima Hashmi, daughter of the great Pakistani poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz, mentioned that he had written a single English poem, The Unicorn and the Dancing Girl. It was published, amended most likely by Faiz himself, in the book The Unicorn and the Dancing Girl: Poems of Faiz Ahmed Faiz with original text, edited by Khalid Hasan (1988). The original version was published as Faiz's inaugural column on March 3, 1961 for the Lahore newspaper The Civil and Military Gazette.
Below are both versions of the poem, the first from the book, the second the original in the newspaper. In addition to the new post image are a picture of the poem and the Gazette's front page that day, which announced Faiz's new column in a box at the top right. Interestingly, Faiz described it in both instances as the framework for a short documentary film (which was never made). According to Salima Hashmi, an Italian Director/Producer was in talks with Faiz to make the film at the time. She and her father actually met him in Rome in 1962; his whole family was very musical and his wife was an opera singer, but the idea faded away.
In both versions of the poem we have tried to preserve the original punctuation, capitalization and word layout. The changes are minimal, but interesting. In the earlier version key abstractions – Time, Past, Present, Timelessness, Unicorn, Dancing Girl, City of the Dead, etc. – are capitalized, in the later version they are mostly in lowercase. The biggest cut is that the earlier “ploughing through timeless sands to admit the festival march of life-giving water,” later becomes just “to admit water.” There are a few other small word changes.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about the poem is the way Faiz reads the figurine of the dancing girl as a figure who gives life. At the start, she is pure vitality; in the long middle of the poem she is imprisoned, spinning in place despite her energy, trapped by the eager eyes of others; in the end she is released and multiplied, freed in the bodies of newly liberated people. That she can evoke these sentiments in such an important poet across thousands of years is testimony to his imagination, the vigor and presence given to her by the Indus artisan who fashioned her, and – just possibly – the original woman who might have inspired that artist.
With many thanks to The Faiz Foundation Trust.
— (1988)
The Unicorn and the Dancing Girl
and Africa time past is time present
And in the past – the past
which neither man nor history remembers –
there was no time.
Only timelessness.
The timelessness of the city of dead
And the graves of nameless saints
with their tattered flags
which never rallied anyone to any cause
And their earthen lamps which shed no
light on the mysteries of human darkness.
The timelessness of the unicorn
Presiding over pots and pans
over weapons and vanities
of the city of dead
who is not even a unicorn
is not even a legend
For even a legend is a memory
And the memory is in time
But the past is timeless
like the eternal snows of
Timeless mountains
The eternal sands
of timeless deserts
And the waters
Of the timeless sea
And written within this eternity of silence
The music of time began
in the leap of a lonely spring
out of the encrusted womb of a wilderness of rocks
The joyous limbs of the dancing girl
defying the motionless unicorn
And dancing waters on their festival
march to the sea.
Thus time was born
And cities arose on the plains
attracting an unending caravan
of human feet arching in and
out of the timeless mountains
Parthians, Bactrians, Huns and Scythians,
Arabs, Tartars, Turks, and White Men.
But as time unwound its first
thread
The unicorn which is the past
grabbed it in its blind hoofs
And spun it round and imprisoned it within itself.
And time became
The endless drone of the waterwheel
The creaking of the wooden cart
The hum of the spinning wheel
The closed spectrum of light and shadow
The heat and cold of the seasons.
Although men matched their strength
against the wheel
to fight and create
much that was good and beautiful
Buildings
Gardens
Paintings
Carpets
Ornaments
Music
But everything moved within
its own remorseless orbit
Even the dance of the dancing girl
imprisoned within the circular whirl
of her own limbs
and the gaze of eager eyes in a close-set circle.
For the wheel was fate
and custom
And the will of the unknown powers
which predestined all beauty
To death and decay after its span
and mighty cities to dust.
And small men gave up
the fight
And accepted the yoke
to circumambulate their
allotted round of days
like blindfold oxen.
And the wheel was fate
And the yoke was ‘karma’
And fear and want and pain
And withering of age
And death with its mercy
And the tyrant with no mercy in his heart.
Until the present
And then the striving and the strain
The sorrows and dreams and passions and yearnings
of numberless beings
over untold centuries
snapped the yoke
and broke the wheel
to unleash an orgy of frenzied movement
The wheel clanking away on steel tracks
speeding on metalled roads
whirling on airfields
in giant factories
Explosives ripping up the timeless
mountains to release power
Earthmovers ploughing through timeless sands to
admit water
men and women
boys and girls
unyoked from fate and ‘karma’, and
Custom and the dream of an unknown will
The joyousness of the dancing girl
rippling in abandon through the young flesh
of countless limbs
And the unicorn reduced
at last to a mere design on a fabric
A mere decoration on the wall.
And yet
Time present is still time past
in faces
in places
in custom and ritual and the grave of the nameless saint
In hunger and want and pain and the withering of age
The birth of time out of timelessness
is beset like all births
with travail, and hope, and joy and apprehension.
And its birth in Pakistan as elsewhere in
the newly liberated countries of Asia
and Africa
is as yet only a small flag of freedom
raised against
The bannered and embattled host of
Fear and want and hunger and
Pain
And the death of human hearts.
—— (1961)
THE UNICORN & THE DANCING GIRL
(Framework for a film treatment)
By Faiz Ahmad Faiz
Asia and Africa, Time Past
is Time Present.
And in the Past—the Past which
neither Man nor History
remembers—
there was no Time.
Only timelessness!
The Timelessness of the City of
the Dead
And of the graves of nameless
saints
with their tattered flags
which never rallied anyone to
any cause;
And their earthen lamps which
shed no
light on the mysteries of human
darkness!
The Timelessness of the Unicorn
presiding over the pots and
pans,
over weapons and vanities
of the City of the Dead.
Who is not even a Unicorn
Is not even a legend.
For even a legend is a memory
And the memory is in time.
But the Past is timeless
like the eternal snows of
Timeless mountains,
The eternal sands
of Timeless deserts
And the waters
of the Timeless sea.
And within this eternity of
silence
The music of time began,
In the leap of a lonely spring
out of the encrusted womb of
a wilderness of rocks,
The joyous limbs of the Dancing
Girl
defying the motionless Unicorn,
And dancing waters on their
festival
march to the sea.
Thus Time was born
And cities arose on the plains
Attracting an unending caravan
of human feet marching in and
out of the timeless mountains—
Parthians, Bactrians, Huns,
and Scythians,
Arabs, Tartars, Turks, and
White Men.
But as Time unwound its first
thread
The Unicorn—which is the
Past—
Grabbed it in its blind hoofs
And spun it round and impri-
soned it within itself.
And Time became
The endless drone of the
waterwheel,
The creaking of the wooden
cart,
The hum of the spinning wheel,
The closed spectrum of light
and shadow,
The heat and cold of the
seasons.
Although men matched their
strength
against the wheel—
To fight and to create
Much that was good and beauti-
ful—
Buildings
Gardens
Paintings
Carpets
Ornaments
Music.
But everything moved within
its own remorseless orbit;
Even the dance of the Dancing
Girl
imprisoned within the circular
whirl
of her own limbs
and the gaze of eager eyes in a
close-set circle.
For the wheel was Fate
and custom
And the will of unknown
Powers
Which pre-destined all beauty
To death and decay after its
span
and mighty cities to dust.
And small men gave up
the fight
And accepted the yoke
to circumambulate their
allotted round of days
Like blindfold oxen.
And the wheel was Fate
And the yoke was “karma”
And fear and want and pain
And the withering of age
And death with its mercy
And the tyrant with no mercy
in his heart.
Until the Present!
And then the stirring and the
strain,
The sorrows and dreams and
passions and yearnings
Of numberless beings
over untold centuries
Snapped the yoke
And broke the wheel
To unleash an orgy of frenzied
movement
The wheels clanking away on
steel tracks
speeding on metalled roads
whirling on airfields
in giant factories
Explosives ripping up the time-
less
mountains to release power
Earthmovers ploughing through
timeless sands to admit the
festival march of life-giving
water.
Men and women
Boys and girls
Unyoked from Fate and
“karma”, and
Custom and the dread of an
unknown will,
The joyousness of the Dancing
Girl
rippling in abandon through
the young flesh
of countless limbs.
And the Unicorn reduced
at last to a mere design on a
fabric
A mere decoration on the wall!
And yet
Time present is still Time past—
in faces
in places
in custom and ritual and the
grave of the nameless saint.
In hunger and want and pain
and the withering of age.
The birth of Time out of Time-
lessness
is beset like all births
with travail, and hope, and joy
and apprehension.
And its birth in Pakistan as
elsewhere in
the newly liberated countries of
Asia
and Africa,
is as yet only a small flag of
freedom
raised against
The bannered and embattled
host of
Fear and want and hunger and
Pain
And the death of human hearts.
(Copyright)
— Faiz Ahmad Faiz, March 1961