Nazir was born in Delhi in 1732 (though some chroniclers place his birth in 1739 or 1740). 

When, after the raids of Ahmed Shah Abdali, living in Delhi became an ordeal, Nazir migrated to Agra (Akbarabad), where he lived for the rest of his life. 

Nazir was a liberal humanist, with a broad nationalist vision. No wonder he could celebrate with equal zest the festivals of both the communities — Diwali, Eid, Holi, Basant, etc. 

Both in his subject and style, Nazir can be called a poet of the common people. 

His diction is free from the superficial elegance of the Lucknow school, as also from the Persianized grandeur of Ghalib. 

He is a poet of the nazm rather than of the ghazal. Another distinguishing mark of Nazir lies in the didactic and patriotic flavor of his poetry. 

Moreover, he displays a knack for humor which enhances his appeal to the reader. 

Besides, he is a loving observer and a successful delineator of the scenes of nature, and a celebrator of her many moods. 

He is a master of the popular poetic measures and smooth singing rhythms. Nazir died at the ripe old age of 98.

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Nazir Akbarabadi

Joys of the Rainy Season (Barsaat ki Baharein)

What wondrous joys the rainy season presents,
Waving green grasses, gardens scattering scents;

Dulcet sounding drizzle, raindrops agleam,
Everything attractive, winsome every scene,

Ah! the rainy season gladdening in extreme.
The clouds drunk with joy are flirting with the breeze,

And with thunder blasts fill the land and lea;
“Water, water, everywhere,” the land looks a lake,

Gardens stand drenched, verdure water-bathed,
All, the rainy season, how it exhilarates!

Undulating grasses, drunken clouds on high,
 The sky specked with cloudlets, mosses red and white;

Everything is getting drenched, from the moon to the minnows lithe,
Who but you, O God, can such colors provide!

Ah, the rainy season, bursting with delight!
Hain is Hawa main kya kya barsaat ki bahaaren,

Sabzon ki lahlahahat, baghaat ki bahanren,
Boondon ki jhamjhamahat, qatraat ki bahaaren,

Har baat ke tamashe, har ghaat ki bnhaaren,
Kya kya machi hain yaaro, barsaat ki bahaaren!

Badal hawa ke oopar ho mast Chha rahe hain,
Jharion ki mastion se dhoomen macha rahe hain,

Parte hain paani har ja, jal thal bana rahe hain,
Gulzaar bheegte hain, sabze naha rahe hain,

Kya kya machi hain yaaro, barsaat ki bilhnaren!
Sabzon ki lahlahahat, kuchh abar ki seaahi,

Aur Chha rahi ghataaen, surkh aur safed kaahi,
Sab bheegte hain ghar ghar, Ie maah ta ba maahi,

Yeh rang kaun range tere Siwa Ilahi,
Kya kya machi hain yaaro barsaat ki bahaaren!

Nazir Akbarabadi

Joys of the Rainy Season

Nature, God-nurtured, is a mine of rich resource,
Ah, it changes many colours, dons many a robe,

Your mysterious power God, intoxicates us all,
 Lo, the partridge also sings: “glory be to God!”

Ah, the wonder-working season, leaving us enthralled!
Those happy and contented find the night a boon,

But dreary seems the night to those sundered from their ‘moon’;
Those enjoying the union sweet, find the night a bliss,

But heavily hangs the night for them who have no mate to kiss;
Wonders of the rainy season, who would want to miss!

Someone complains aloud, 10! the roof doth leak,
Oh, it comes crumbling, the awnings break apiece,

The attic develops cracks, the ceiling looks a sieve,
The upper storey, our sole support, cannot help but yield,

Ah, the rainy season, and its tricks and freaks!

Kya kya rakhe hai yaarab samaan teri qudrat,
Badle hai rang kya kya har aan teri qudrat,

Sab mast ho rahe hain pahchaan teri qudrat,
Teetar pukaarte hain: “Subhan teri qudrat”.

Kya kya machi hain yaarab barsaat ki bahaaren!
Jo khush hain woh khushi mein kaate hain raat saari,

Jo ghum mein hain unhon par guzre hai raat bhaari,
Seenon se lag rahi hain jo hain piya ki payaari,

Chhati phate hain unki jo hain birah ki maari,
Kya kya machi hain yaaro barsaat ki bahaaren!

Koi pukarta hai, lo, yeh makaan tapka,
Girti hai Chhat ki mitti aur saaebaan tapka,

 Chhalni hui atari, kotha nadaan tapka,
Baaqi tha ik usaara so woh bhi aan tapka.

Kya kya machi hain yaaro, barsaat ki bahaaren!

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Nazir Akbarabadi

Joys of the Rainy Season

Some are swinging on the swings, some the strings manipulate,
Some with their feet stretched are vying with their mates,

The sky is overcast with clouds, a light drizzle falls,
The red and pink dresses are getting drenched with drops,

Wondrous is the rainy season, gladdening every heart.
Where the the ground is slippery, with slush and mud splashed,

It is indeed a problem to wade through that patch,
If the shoe gets trapped, it cannot be retrieved,

If you trip, your turban tumbles at your feet,
What wondrous ways have nature to tickle us and tease!

Rainy season presents a sight gladdening one and all,
Kings and cobblers, princes, paupers, all feel enthralled.

Happy are the lovers enslaved, happy are the sweetie-pies,
Everyone, O Nazir, is bubbling with delight,

Wondrous are indeed, the season’s sounds and sights!
Koi tau jhoolne mein jhoole ki dor chhore,

Ya saatheon mein apne paaon se paaon jore,
Badal khare hain sar par, barse hain thore thore,

Boondon se bheegte hain laal aur gulabi jore,
Kya kya machi hain yaaro barsaat ki bahaaren!

Keechar se ho rahi hai jis ja zameen phisalni,
 Mushkil hui hai waan se har ik ko rah chalni,

Phisla jo paaon, pagri mushkil hai phir sambhalni,
Jooti giri tau waan se kya taab phir nikalni,

Kya kya machi hain yaaro, barsaat ki bahaaren.
Ye rut woh hai jismein khurd-o-kabir khush hain,

Adna, gharib, muflish, shah-O-gada khush hain,
Maashooq shad-o-khurram, aashiq aseer khush hain,

Jitne hain ab jahan mein sab, ai Nazir, khush Itain,
Kya kya machi hain yaaro barsaat ki bahaaren!

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