Faiz's- 'tum naa aae'e the'

What does Ghalib's 'khoon-e-jigar' mean in the context of Faiz's poem? My guess is that Ghalib is referencing a peculiarity in Bedil's theory of color which, because of its Sufi foundation, has a chilastic meaning. Ghalib, self-effacingly, mentions his use of astrology and philosophy to tart up his ghazals. Perhaps, the fact that the Marxist Revolution lives upon the memory of its doomed 1848 tryst,  and the further eschatalogical fact that all trysts fail prior to the final conflagration, and that this interregnum is one peculiarly favorable to a hypertrophy of doomed trysts, for Faiz unites him to Ghalib and Bedil by reason of a common elision of the method of Zattali- which, after all, is what the genius of the language calls for.

'Fore flamed our tryst all was as has come to pass

Horizon's mist, Road's twist, Wine red in the glass

But now that wine cup, road and azure Sky

Are the color of my heart where blood goes to die

Like the cataract in an old shepherd's eye

Or the egg stain on a Joint Secretary's tie
 Or some such recherche list rushing out of style
 Till, to curdle our tryst, you tarry awhile

Ah! my ragged song were, in Russian, Choral

Tho' in Urdu, now, just sloppy Oral

tum jo naa aa'e the to har chiiz vahii thii kih jo hai
aasmaaN hadd-e-nazar, raahguzar raahguzar, shiishaah-e-mai,
shiishaah-e-mai

aur ab shiishaah-e-mai, raahguzar, rang-e-falak
rang hai dil kaa mere, "khoon-e-jigar hone tak"
champaa'i rang kabhii, raahat-e-diidaar kaa rang
sur'ma'ii rang kabhii, saa'at-e-bezaar kaa rang

zard pattoN kaa xas-o-xaar kaa rang
surkh phuuloN kaa, dahakte hu'e gulzaar kaa rang
zahar kaa rang, lahuu rang. shab-e-taar kaa rang

aasmaaN, rahguzar, shiishaah-e-mai
koii bhiigaa hu'aa daaman, ko'ii dukhtii hu'ii rag
ko'ii har lahzaah badaltaa hu'aa aa'iinaah hai

ab jo aa'e ho to Thahro kih koii rang, koii rut ko'ii shai
ek jagah par Thahre
phir se ik baar har ik chiiz vahii ho ke jo hai
aasmaaN hadd-e-nazar, rahguzar rahguzar, shiishaah-e-mai,
shiishaah-e-mai


English Translation by Naomi Lazard

Before you came things were just what they were:
the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed,
the limit of what could be seen,
a glass of wine was no more than a glass of wine.

With you the world took on the spectrum
radiating from my heart: your eyes gold
as they open to me, slate the color
that falls each time I lost all hope.

With your advent roses burst into flame:
you were the artist of dried-up leaves, sorceress
who flicked her wrist to change dust into soot.
You lacquered the night black.

As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine:
one was my tear-drenched shirt,
the other an aching nerve,
the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing.

Now you are here again—stay with me.
This time things will fall into place;
the road can be the road,
the sky nothing but sky;
the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine.