Mirza Ghalib

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The world is as children's playful fun to me;
Night and day this show is performed before me.
The throne of Solomon is but a pastime for me;
The Miracle of the Messiah is a valuless trifle before me.
The appearance of the world is only a name;
The existence of things is but a fancy before me.

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Laid in the dust forever to rest.
Is it some of these lost faces
Are in the poppy and rose manifest?

Once life's pageant I too knew
Of beauty rare, of glorious hue.
Now like pictures on a painted alcove: lifeless, still,
Its dead images, the alcoves of my memory fill.

O brilliant constellation of stars seven,
Seven daughters of the sky 
That all day veiled lie,
What sudden emotion in your heart, sweet, uncertain 
Prompts you ail 
When night doth fall
To rent the curtain?

It is the night of parting
Let blood tears flow...
I will think, with day's departing, 
I've set two candle flames aglow.

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His are love's delights,
By whose adoring side 
You sit; on whose arm your lovely hair scatters... 
This is all that matters.

Eyes, that my lacking fate has turned into a keen-edged Sword
To pierce and rent my heart...Why O Lord?
Should still sink into my soul, 
Possessing all.

Were man to suffer pangs of pain,
Again, and still again,
Even grief would lose its sting. 
Of sorrows I've had so full a share,
That now they are almost easy to bear.

If Ghalib still will sorrow thus,
He cannot long remain with us...
Good friends, good fellow creatures, hearken ye,
How poorer far, deserted and denied, this world will be.

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Ye that once lived, and now lost are whose traces,
His are peace and rest of nights,
His ALL the pride.
The grief no longer needed 'its remedy; 
I got no better, better still not to be..

Why should you gather my rivals? 
It will be fun, not my trial.

If you don't want to test your dagger's lust,
Where else might I find someone to try my luck?

How sweet your lips happened to be,
Even insults did not upset my enemy.

She will be coming over - a rumour is hot in the air.
Just today in my house not a piece of mat is there.

I was not Nimrod, one who proclaimed God to be.
I was your servant, but what good was it to me?

I gave my life, but it was His gift. 
To be- fair, I did no justice to it.

The wound though healed, blood did not stop to drain. 
Work once hindered, would not get back on track again.

A robbery or breaking of a heart - What is it?
The heart-breaker snatched and got away with it.

Read something at least, for people say, 
"Ghalib is not singing his lyrics today."

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That sigh from the heart
Has not the importance of a straw,
Although it can cause
A crack in the sun.

That magic is of no avail
For the fulfilment of one's desires,
That magic by which 
The boat floats on the mirage.

Ghalib, I have for some time
Given up drinking wine; I drink only
When it is a cloudy day, 
Or a moonlit night.

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With the thought of tomorrow,
Be not niggardly today, O Saqi;
This would be disrespectful 
To the Saqi of Paradise.

Why have we become so contemptible
Today, when till yesterday , 
Our honour did not tolerate
The impudence of the angel.

Listening to sweet music, why does it seem 
That one's life is draining away? 
Is it because we hear His voice 
In the notes of the lute and the rebeck?

The steed of age is galloping;
Let us see where it will stop; 
The hand does not hold the rein
And the foot is not in the stirrup.

I am as far removed 
From my own reality 
As my twisting and turning
Stems from the thought of the other.

The reality of the sight of God, 
The one who sees, and what is seen, 
All in effect are one; I am amazed 
Then, what is all this witnessing? 

The sea's substance consists of 
The shifting appearance of forms; 
What then is in the drop, 
And the bubble, and the wave?

Coyness, even with oneself
Is but a form of dalliance; 
How many unveiled ones 
Go about covered by a veil?

The adorning of her beauty 
Leaves no time for ease; 
Even beneath the veil, her mirror 
Constantly confronts her.

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Come, so we may change
The laws of the heavens; 
Let us alter the decree of destiny 
By the circulation of the heavy goblet.

Let us enjoy the spectacle 
With our eyes and heart; 
With the humility of our heart and soul.
Let us transform our loss.

We will sit in the corner
And open the door; 
We will turn the guard into the street 
And throw him on the footpath.

If there is any seizing and holding
By the officer of the police, -we care not; 
If we receive a present from the king 
We shall return it to him.

If the sage speaks the same language 
As ours, we would not talk to him; 
If Khalil is our guest, 
We would ask him to go away.

We would dismiss the boon companion,
The minstrel and the saqi from the assembly, 
And turnout the experienced lady 
Who manages our affairs?

Sometimes, with a show of courtesy 
We will mingle our speech with grace, 
And sometimes while snatching a kiss 
We would turn our tongue in the mouth.

With the ardour of our breast 
We will stop the breath of morning; 
We will safeguard .the world from the affliction 
Of the heat of the day.
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