Ghalib
The following is a selection of verses from Divan-e-Ghalib with Frances Pritchett’s literal translation. For a profound and edifying encounter with Ghalib’s poetry, please visit A Desertful of Roses.
kahte hai;N jiite hai;N ummiid pah log
hum ko jiine kii bhii ummiid nahii;N
they say people live on hope
we have no hope even of living
qafas me;N mujh se ruudaad-e chaman kahte nah ;Dar hamdam
girii hai jis pah kal bijlii vuh meraa aashiyaa;N kyuu;N ho
telling me, in the cage, the events of the garden, don’t be afraid, friend
the one on which lightning has fallen yesterday– why would it be my nest?
kyaa tang ham sitam-zadagaa;N kaa jahaan hai
jis me;N kih ek bai.zah-e mor aasmaan hai
how narrow is the world of us oppressed ones!
in which one ant’s egg is the sky
har-chand subuk-dast hu))e but-shikanii me;N
ham hai;N to abhii raah me;N hai sang-e giraa;N aur
although we became {light/quick-handed / deft} in idol-breaking
while we are, then still in the road is a different/additional heavy stone
yih masaa))il-e ta.savvuf yih tiraa bayaan ;Gaalib
tujhe ham valii samajhte jo nah baadah-;xvaar hotaa
these problems of mysticism! this discourse of yours, Ghalib!
we would consider you a saint– if you weren’t a wine-drinker
sab kahaa;N kuchh laalah-o-gul me;N numaayaa;N ho ga))ii;N
;xaak me;N kyaa .suurate;N ho;Ngii kih pinhaa;N ho ga))ii;N
not by any means all! some became manifest in tulip and rose
what faces/aspects there will be, that became hidden in the dust!
;zaahir hai kih ghabraa ke nah bhaage;Nge nakiire;N
haa;N mu;Nh se magar baadah-e doshiinah kii bo a))e
it’s obvious– won’t the Recording Angels become anxious and run away?
perhaps from my mouth, indeed, might come the smell of last night’s wine
ay taazah-vaaridaan-e bisaa:t-e havaa-e dil
zinhaar agar tumhe;N havas-e nai-o-nosh hai
oh fresh-arrivers at the ’spread’ of the desire/affection of the heart
beware, if you have a desire/lust for flute and drink
kaav-kaav-e sa;xt-jaaniihaa-e tanhaa))ii nah puuchh
.sub;h karnaa shaam kaa laanaa hai juu-e shiir kaa
don’t ask about digging through the tough-lifednesses of solitude!
to make daybreak from night is the bringing of the river of milk
aagahii daam-e shuniidan jis qadar chaahe bichhaa))e
mudda((aa ((anqaa hai apne ((aalam-e taqriir kaa
let intelligence spread the net of hearing to whatever extent it might wish
the intention of my world of speech is the phoenix
fikr-e dunyaa me;N sar khapaataa huu;N
mai;N kahaa;N aur yih vabaal kahaa;N
in worry about the world I wrack/ruin my brains
I am– where? and this curse/ruin– where?
nahii;N kih mujh ko qiyaamat kaa i((tiqaad nahii;N
shab-e firaaq se roz-e jazaa ziyaad nahii;N
it’s not that I don’t have a belief in Doomsday
the Day of Requital is not more than the night of separation
qaid-e ;hayaat-o-band-e ;Gam a.sl me;N dono;N ek hai;N
maut se pahle aadmii ;Gam se nijaat paa))e kyuu;N
the prison of life and the bondage of grief– in essence/origin both are one
before death, why/how would a man find escape/release from grief?
maut kaa ek din mu((ayyan hai
nii;Nd kyuu;N raat bhar nahii;N aatii
one day of death is decreed
why does sleep not come, the whole night?
ho chukii;N ;Gaalib balaa))e;N sab tamaam
ek marg-e naagahaanii aur hai
all the disasters, Ghalib, have already become completed
there is one sudden-misfortune death more
phir kuchh ik dil ko beqaraarii hai
siinah juuyaa-e za;xm-e kaarii hai
again the heart feels something of restlessness
the breast is in search of an effective/mortal wound
phir usii be-vafaa pah marte hai;N
phir vuhii zindagii hamaarii hai
again we die over that same faithless one
again that same life is ours
laaf-e tamkii;N fareb-e saadah-dilii
ham hai;N aur raaz’haa-e siinah-gudaaz
a boast of dignity, a trick/deceit of simple-heartedness
we are, and breast-melting secrets
((umr har-chand kih hai barq-;xiraam
dil ke ;xuu;N karne kii fur.sat hii sahii
although the lifetime is lightning-paced
leisure to turn the heart to blood– so be it
paate nahii;N jab raah to cha;Rh jaate hai;N naale
ruktii hai mirii :tab((a to hotii hai ravaa;N aur
when [they] don’t find a path, then streams/laments rise
[when/if] my temperament halts, then [it] moves along more/differently
((ishq se :tabii((at ne ziist kaa mazaa paayaa
dard kii davaa paa))ii dard-e be-davaa paayaa
through passion, the temperament found the relish of life
it found a cure for pain, it found a pain without cure
;Gunchah phir lagaa khilne aaj ham ne apnaa dil
;xuu;N kiyaa hu))aa dekhaa gum kiyaa hu))aa paayaa
the bud again/then began to bloom, today our heart we
saw [having been] turned to blood, found lost
;haal-e dil nahii;N ma((luum lekin is qadar ya((nii
ham ne baarhaa ;Dhuu;N;Dhaa tum ne baarhaa paayaa
the state of the heart is not known– except to this extent, that is,
many times we sought it, many times you found it
ham kahaa;N ke daanaa the kis hunar me;N yaktaa the
be-sabab hu))aa ;Gaalib dushman aasmaa;N apnaa
what kind of a knower were we? in what skill were we unique?
without reason/cause, Ghalib, the sky became our enemy
saraapaa rahn-e ((ishq-o-naa-guziir-e ulfat-e hastii
((ibaadat barq kii kartaa huu;N aur afsos ;haa.sil kaa
entirely/head-to-foot pledged to passion and not renouncing the love of life
I worship lightning– and grieve for the [burnt-up] harvest
ma;hram nahii;N hai tuu hii navaahaa-e raaz kaa
yaa;N varnah jo ;hijaab hai pardah hai saaz kaa
you alone are not intimate with voices of mystery
otherwise, that which here is a veil, is the string/note of an instrument
taaraaj-e kaavish-e ;Gam-e hijraa;N hu))aa asad
siinah kih thaa dafiinah guharhaa-e raaz kaa
it was plundered by the digging/investigation of the grief of separation, Asad
the breast that was a buried treasure of pearls of mystery
baskih dushvaar hai har kaam kaa aasaa;N honaa
aadmii ko bhii muyassar nahii;N insaa;N honaa
it’s difficult to such an extent for every task to be easy
man doesn’t even manage to become human/humane
naazish-e ayyaam-e ;xaakastar-nashiinii kyaa kahuu;N
pahluu-e andeshah vaqf-e bistar-e sanjaab thaa
the pride of the days of sitting in ashes– what can I say!
the side/flank of Thought was tranquility upon a bedding of ermine
hai ab is ma((muure me;N qa;h:t-e ;Gam-e ulfat asad
ham ne yih maanaa kih dillii me;N rahe khaave;Nge kyaa
there is now in this town a famine of the grief of love, Asad
we’ve agreed that we would remain in Delhi– what will we eat?
havas ko hai nishaa:t-e kaar kyaa kyaa
nah ho marnaa to jiine kaa mazaa kyaa
what various joys of action Desire has!
if [we] are not [destined] to die, then does life have any relish?
balaa-e jaa;N hai ;Gaalib us kii har baat
((ibaarat kyaa ishaarat kyaa adaa kyaa
it’s a mortal disaster, Ghalib– her every word/speech/idea
whether speech/expression, or gestures, or style
naam kaa mere hai jo dukh kih kisii ko nah milaa
kaam me;N mere hai jo fitnah kih barpaa nah hu))aa
[assigned] to my name is that sorrow that no one [else] received
in my work/desire is that affliction that did not [ever before] arise
qa:tre me;N dijlah dikhaa))ii nah de aur juzv me;N kul
khel la;Rko;N kaa hu))aa diidah-e biinaa nah hu))aa
[if] the Tigris isn’t visible in a drop, and in a part, the whole
[then] a boys’ game occurred, [it] was not a seeing eye
thii ;xabar garm kih ;Gaalib ke u;Re;Nge purze
dekhne ham bhii gaye the pah tamaashaa nah hu))aa
there was a hot rumor/report that Ghalib would be torn to pieces
we too went to see, but the/a show/spectacle did not take place
zakaat-e ;husn de ay jalvah-e biinish kih mihr-aasaa
chiraa;G-e ;xaanah-e darvesh ho kaasah gadaa))ii kaa
give alms of beauty, oh glory/radiance of sight, so that like the sun
a begging bowl may be the lamp of the Darvesh’s house
vuhii ik baat hai jo yaa;N nafas vaa;N nak’hat-e gul hai
chaman kaa jalvah baa((i;s hai mirii rangii;N-navaa))ii kaa
it is the same one thing that here is breath/self/desire, there is the scent of the rose
the glory/appearance of the garden is the cause of my colorful melodiousness
faa))idah kyaa soch aa;xir tuu bhii daanaa hai asad
dostii naadaa;N kii hai jii kaa ziyaa;N ho jaa))egaa
what gain is there? Think! after all, you too are wise, Asad
it is friendship with a fool; it will be a loss to your (inner) self
gilah hai shauq ko dil me;N bhii tangii-e jaa kaa
guhar me;N ma;hv hu))aa i.z:tiraab daryaa kaa
Ardor complains, even in the heart, of narrowness of space
in a pearl became absorbed the restlessness of the ocean
tangii-e dil kaa gilah kyaa yih vuh kaafir dil hai
kih agar tang nah hotaa to pareshaa;N hotaa
about the narrowness/distress of the heart, as if there could be a complaint! this is such an infidel heart
that if it were not narrow/distressed, then it would be scattered/anxious
ba((d-e yak ((umr-e vara(( baar to detaa baare
kaash ri.zvaa;N hii dar-e yaar kaa darbaa;N hotaa
after a lifetime of abstinence, he would have granted admission at last
if only Rizvan alone/himself were the Doorkeeper of the beloved’s door!
nah thaa kuchh to ;xudaa thaa kuchh nah hotaa to ;xudaa hotaa
;Duboyaa mujh ko hone ne nah hotaa mai;N to kyaa hotaa
when there was nothing, then God was; if nothing existed, then God would exist
‘being’ drowned me; if I did not exist, then what would exist?
hu))aa jab ;Gam se yuu;N be-;his to ;Gam kyaa sar ke ka;Tne kaa
nah hotaa gar judaa tan se to zaanuu par dharaa hotaa
when it became senseless like this with grief, then {what’s the harm / what grief} if the head is cut off?
if it were not separated from the body, then it would rest on the knees
hu))ii muddat kih ;Gaalib mar gayaa par yaad aataa hai
vuh har ik baat par kahnaa kih yuu;N hotaa to kyaa hotaa
it’s been quite a while since Ghalib died, but [I] remember
his saying about every single thing, If it were so, then what would be/happen?
bulbul ke kaarobaar pah hai;N ;xandah’haa-e gul
kahte hai;N jis ko ((ishq ;xalal hai dimaa;G kaa
at the doings of the Nightingale are the smiles of the rose
what they call passion is a defect of the mind
sau baar band-e ((ishq se aazaad ham hu))e
par kyaa kare;N kih dil hii ((aduu hai faraa;G kaa
a hundred times we became free from the bonds of passion
but what can [we] do? for the heart itself is an enemy of rest
baa;G-e shuguftah teraa bisaa:t-e nishaa:t-e dil
abr-e bahaar ;xum-kadah kis ke dimaa;G kaa
the garden in bloom– your carpet/spread of joy of the heart
the spring raincloud– the cask-house of whose mind?
safar-e ((ishq me;N kii .zu((f ne raa;hat-:talabii
har qadam saa))e ko mai;N apne shabistaa;N samjhaa
in the journey of passion, weakness sought rest
at every step I considered my shadow to be a bedchamber
dam liyaa thaa nah qiyaamat ne hanuuz
phir tiraa vaqt-e safar yaad aayaa
Doomsday had not yet/still taken a breath
again/then the time of your journey came to mind
kyaa hii ri.zvaa;N se la;Raa))ii hogii
ghar tiraa ;xuld me;N gar yaad aayaa
what a fight there’ll be with Rizvan!
if in Paradise your house would come to mind
pak;Re jaate hai;N farishto;N ke likhe par naa;haq
aadmii ko))ii hamaaraa dam-e ta;hriir bhii thaa
we are seized on the Angels’ written [accounts] unjustly
was any man of ours even there at the moment of writing?
raat din gardish me;N hai;N saat aasmaa;N
ho rahegaa kuchh nah kuchh ghabraa))e;N kyaa
night and day the seven heavens are revolving
something or other will happen– why be anxious?
((ishrat-e qa:trah hai daryaa me;N fanaa ho jaanaa
dard kaa ;had se guzarnaa hai davaa ho jaanaa
the ecstasy of the drop is to become obliterated in the ocean
pain’s passing beyond the limit is [its] becoming a medicine
tujh se qismat me;N mirii .suurat-e qufl-e abjad
thaa likhaa baat ke bante hii judaa ho jaanaa
from you, in my destiny, like a combination lock
was written– at the moment of ‘clicking’, to become separated
ba;xshe hai jalvah-e gul ;zauq-e tamaashaa ;Gaalib
chashm ko chaahiye har rang me;N vaa ho jaanaa
the glory/appearance of the rose gives a relish for spectacle, Ghalib
the eye should, in every color/mood, become open
taa kih tujh par khule i((jaaz-e havaa-e .saiqal
dekh barsaat me;N sabz aa))ine kaa ho jaanaa
so that the miracle of the cleansing air would be revealed to you
look at how, during the rainy season, green/verdigris develops on the mirror
niind us kii hai dimaa;G us kaa hai raate;N us kii hai;N
terii zulfe;N jis ke baazuu par pareshaa;N ho ga))ii;N
sleep is his, pride is his, the nights are his
on whose shoulder your curls became scattered/tangled
ranj se ;xuugar hu))aa insaa;N to mi;T jaataa hai ranj
mushkile;N mujh par pa;Rii;N itnii kih aasaa;N ho ga))ii;N
when/if a person becomes accustomed to grief, then grief is erased
so many difficulties fell upon me, that they became easy
;Gam nahii;N hotaa hai aazaado;N ko besh az yak nafas
barq se karte hai;N raushan sham((a-e maatam-;xaanah ham
grief is not, for free ones, more than one breath/life
with lightning we light the candle of the mourning-chamber
ma;hfile;N barham kare hai ganjifah-baaz-e ;xiyaal
hai;N varaq-gardaanii-e nairang-e yak but-;xaanah ham
the card-player of Thought confuses/mingles gatherings
we are the page-turning of the wonder of a single idol-house
baavajuud-e yak-jahaa;N hangaamah paidaa))ii nahii;N
hai;N chiraa;Gaan-e shabistaan-e dil-e parvaanah ham
despite [the presence of] a world, there’s no creation of commotion
we are the lamp-display of the bedchamber of the heart of the Moth
.zu((f se hai ne qanaa((at se yih tark-e justujuu
hai;N vabaal-e takyah-gaah-e himmat-e mardaanah ham
from weakness, not contentment, is this abandonment of searching
we are a blight/burden on the resting-place of manly courage
baskih hai;N ham ik bahaar-e naaz ke maare hu))e
jalvah-e gul ke sivaa gard apne madfan me;N nahii;N
we are slain to such an extent by a single flourishing/springtime of coquetry
beyond the glory/appearance of the rose, no dust is in our grave
nuq.saa;N nahii;N junuu;N me;N balaa se ho ghar ;xaraab
sau gaz zamii;N ke badle bayaabaa;N giraa;N nahii;N
there’s no harm in madness– so what if the house would be wrecked!
in exchange for a hundred yards of ground, is the desert not [more] valuable?
kahte ho kyaa likhaa hai tirii sar-navisht me;N
goyaa jabii;N pah sijdah-e but kaa nishaa;N nahii;N
you say, ‘What is written in your {destiny / ‘forehead-written’}?’
as if on my forehead there is not the mark of idol-prostration!
ulfat-e gul se ;Gala:t hai da((v;aa-e vaarastagii
sarv hai baa-va.sf-e aazaadii giriftaar-e chaman
the claim of liberation from affection for/from the rose is mistaken
The cypress is, despite [its] freedom, held captive by the garden
;Gaalib va:ziifah-;xvaar ho do shaah ko du((aa
vuh din ga))e kih kahte the naukar nahii;N huu;N mai;N
Ghalib, you’re a pension-{receiver/’eater’}, give blessings to the King!
those days are gone when you used to say, ‘I am not a servant’
dekhaa asad ko ;xalvat-o-jalvat me;N baarhaa
diivaanah gar nahii;N hai to hushyaar bhii nahii;N
[I/we] saw Asad in private and public a number of times
if [he] is not mad, then [he is] also not sane
nashv-o-numaa hai a.sl se ;Gaalib furuu(( ko
;xaamoshii hii se nikle hai jo baat chaahiye
growth and nurture is from the root/origin, Ghalib, for the branches/derivatives
from silence alone comes the speech that is needed
hai rang-e laalah-o-gul-o-nasrii;N judaa judaa
har rang me;N bahaar kaa i;sbaat chaahiye
the color of tulip and rose and eglantine is each one separate
in every mood/aspect/’color’, a demonstration/proof of spring is needed
ya((nii bah-;hasb-e gardish-e paimaanah-e .sifaat
((aarif hameshah mast-e mai-e ;zaat chaahiye
that is, in conformity/proportion to the going-around of the {wine-glass / measure} of qualities,
a mystical-knower always intoxicated with the wine of Being is needed
;xiyaal-e marg kab taskii;N dil-e aazurdah ko ba;xshe
mire daam-e tamannaa me;N hai ik .said-e zabuu;N vuh bhii
when would the thought of death bestow comfort on the sorrowful/vexed heart?
in my net of longing, {even that / that too} is one weak/inferior/unworthy prey
har ik makaan ko hai makii;N se sharaf asad
majnuu;N jo mar gayaa hai to jangal udaas hai
every single dwelling has nobility/dignity through its dweller, Asad
because Majnun has died, the wilderness is indifferent/solitary/sad
hastii ke mat fareb me;N aa jaa))iyo asad
((aalam tamaam ;halqah-e daam-e ;xiyaal hai
don’t be taken in by the trick/deceit of existence/life, Asad
the whole world is a link of the net of thought
apnii hastii hii se ho jo kuchh ho
aagahii gar nahii;N ;Gaflat hii sahii
let it be from one’s own existence, whatever it might be
if not awareness, then heedlessness– so be it
ham ko))ii tark-e vafaa karte hai;N
nah sahii ((ishq mu.siibat hii sahii
as if we ever renounce faithfulness!
if not indeed passion, then difficulty indeed
((ishq mujh ko nahii;N va;hshat hii sahii
merii va;hshat tirii shuhrat hii sahii
it’s not passion in me, it’s madness– so be it
my madness– your fame, indeed
;Dhuu;N;De hai us mu;Gannii-e aatish-nafas ko jii
jis kii .sadaa ho jalvah-e barq-e fanaa mujhe
the self searches for that fire-{breath/spirit}-possessing {singer / independence-maker}
whose echo/voice/call would be the glory/appearance of the lightning of oblivion to me
mastaanah :tay karuu;N huu;N rah-e vaadii-e ;xiyaal
taa baaz-gasht se nah rahe mudda((aa mujhe
intoxicated(ly), I traverse the road of the valley of thought
so that no intention/meaning of turning back would remain to me
khultaa kisii pah kyuu;N mire dil kaa mu((aamilah
shi((ro;N ke inti;xaab ne rusvaa kiyaa mujhe
why would the affair of my heart have become open/apparent to anybody?!
the anthology/selection of verses disgraced/revealed me
be-.sarfah hii guzartii hai ho garchih ((umr-e ;xi.zr
;ha.zrat bhii kal kahe;Nge kih ham kyaa kiyaa kiye
it passes only/surely unprofitably, although it might be the lifetime of Khizr
even/also Hazrat [Khizr] will say tomorrow, ‘what deed did we accomplish?’
maqduur ho to ;xaak se puuchhuu;N kih ay la))iim
tuu ne vuh ganj’haa-e giraa;Nmaayah kyaa kiye
if there would be the power/ability, then I would ask the dust: oh wretch/miser!
what did you do to/with those precious treasures/hoards?
naqsh ko us ke mu.savvir par bhii kyaa kyaa naaz hai;N
khe;Nchtaa hai jis qadar utnaa hii khi;Nchtaa jaa))e hai
what kinds of coquetry the image/drawing uses even/also on its painter!
to the extent that he/it ‘draws’, to that same extent he/it is ‘drawn’
saayah meraa mujh se mi;sl-e duud bhaage hai asad
paas mujh aatish-bajaa;N ke kis se ;Thahraa jaa))e hai
my shadow, like smoke, flees from me, Asad
near ‘fire-lifed’ me, who can bear to remain?
ho ke ((aashiq vuh parii-ru;x aur naazuk ban gayaa
rang khultaa jaa))e hai jitnaa kih u;Rtaa jaa))e hai
having become a lover, that Pari-faced one became more delicate
[her] color goes on showing/’opening out’, as much as it goes on fading/’flying away’
ug rahaa hai dar-o-diivaar se sabzah ;Gaalib
ham biyaabaa;N me;N hai;N aur ghar me;N bahaar aa))ii hai
greenery is sprouting from door and walls, Ghalib
we are in the desert, and {at home / in the house} spring has come!
kaar-gaah-e hastii me;N laalah daa;G-saamaa;N hai
barq-e ;xirman-e raa;hat ;xuun-e garm-e dihqaa;N hai
in the {work/tillage/strife}-place of existence, the tulip is {wound/scar}-equipped
the lightning of the harvest of comfort/rest is the hot blood of the farmer
jalvah-zaar-e aatish-e doza;x hamaaraa dil sahii
fitnah-e shor-e qiyaamat kis kii aab-o-gil me;N hai
a {glory/appearance}-garden of the fire of Hell– our heart, indeed
the mischief of the tumult of Doomsday– in whose {constitution / water-and-earth} is it?
laazim nahii;N kih ;xi.zr kii ham pairavii kare;N
jaanaa kih ik buzurg hame;N ham-safar mile
it’s not necessary that we would follow in Khizr’s footsteps
we considered that we had acquired one venerable-elder as a fellow-traveler
jaantaa huu;N ;savaab-e :taa((at-o-zuhd
par :tabii((at idhar nahii;N aatii
I know the religious merit of obedience and piety
but my temperament doesn’t incline this way
daa;Gh-e dil gar na:zar nahii;N aataa
buu bhii ay chaarah-gar nahii;N aatii
if the wound in the heart doesn’t come into view
doesn’t, oh healer, at least the smell come?
aage aatii thii ;haal-e dil pah ha;Nsii
ab kisii baat par nahii;N aatii
before, laughter used to come at the state of the heart
now it doesn’t come at anything
jab kih tujh bin nahii;N ko))ii maujuud
phir yih hangaamah ay ;xudaa kyaa hai
since without You, no one is present
then, this commotion, oh Lord– what is it?
jallaad se ;Darte hai;N nah vaa((i:z se jhaga;Rte
ham samjhe hu))e hai;N use jis bhes me;N jo aa))e
we neither fear the Executioner, nor quarrel with the Preacher
whoever comes, in whatever guise– we’ve understood him
apnaa nahii;N vuh shevah kih aaraam se bai;The;N
us dar pah nahii;N baar to ka((be hii ko ho aa))e
that’s not our practice/habit, that we’d sit at ease
when there was no {admission / formal ‘court’} at that door, then we stopped by the Ka’bah
be-;xvudii be-sabab nahii;N ;Gaalib
kuchh to hai jis kii pardah-daarii hai
self-lessness is not without cause, Ghalib
there is something, of which it is the veiling
be-i((tidaaliyo;N se subuk sab me;N ham hu))e
jitne ziyaadah ho ga))e utne hii kam hu))e
through ‘imbalances’, we became the ‘lightest’ of all
the more we/they became great/large, so much less/small we/they were
lu:tf-e ;xiraam-e saaqii-o-;zauq-e .sadaa-e chang
yih jannat-e nigaah vuh firdaus-e gosh hai
the grace/elegance of the gait of the Cupbearer, and the relish of the voice of the lute
this is a heaven of the eye; that, a paradise of the ear
aate hai;N ;Gaib se yih ma.zaamii;N ;xiyaal me;N
;Gaalib .sariir-e ;xaamah navaa-e sarosh hai
these themes come into the mind from the ‘hidden’
Ghalib, the scratching of the pen is the voice of an angel
dete hai;N jinnat ;hayaat-e dahr ke badle
nashah bah andaazah-e ;xumaar nahii;N hai
they give us Heaven in exchange for the life of the world
the intoxication/wine is not {according / in proportion} to the intoxication/hangover
dekhiye paate hai;N ((ushshaaq buto;N se kyaa fai.z
ik barahman ne kahaa hai kih yih saal achchhaa hai
let’s see what grace/favor lovers find from idols
a Brahman has said that this year is good
ham ko ma((luum hai jannat kii ;haqiiqat lekin
dil ke ;xvush rakhne ko ;Gaalib yih ;xiyaal achchhaa hai
we know the reality/truth of Paradise, but
to keep the heart happy, Ghalib, this idea is good
ganjiinah-e ma((nii kaa :tilism us ko samajhye
jo laf:z kih ;Gaalib mire ash((aar me;N aave
please consider it to be an enchantment/talisman of the treasury of meaning
that word which, Ghalib, would come into my verses
((ishq ne ;Gaalib nikammaa kar diyaa
varnah ham bhii aadmii the kaam ke
passion, Ghalib, made us useless/worthless
otherwise, we too were a person of use/capability/desire/passion
rahaa aabaad ((aalam ahl-e himmat ke nah hone se
bhare hai;N jis qadar jaam-o-subuu mai-;xaanah ;xaalii hai
the world remained populated/inhabited, from/with the nonexistence of people of courage,
to the extent that the glass and flagon are filled, the wine-house is empty
qadr-e sang-e sar-e rah rakhtaa huu;N
sa;xt arzaa;N hai giraanii merii
I possess the worth of a stone beside the road
my heaviness/expensiveness is harshly/severely abundant/cheap
gird-baad-e rah-e betaabii huu;N
.sar.sar-e shauq hai baanii merii
I am a whirlwind/demon of the road of restlessness
a wind of ardor is my quality/voice
hai va.sl hijr ((aalam-e tamkiin-o-.zab:t me;N
ma((shuuq-e sho;x-o-((aashiq-e diivaanah chaahiye
{union is separation / separation is union} in a state/world of dignity and restraint
a mischievous beloved and a mad lover are needed
us lab se mil hii jaa))egaa bosah kabhii to haa;N
shauq-e fu.zuul o jur))at-e rindaanah chaahiye
if sometime a kiss from that lip will be obtained– then, indeed
{an excessive/extravagant ardor / an ardor for excess/extravagance} and a rakish/profligate courage are needed
chaahiye achchho;N ko jitnaa chaahiye
yih agar chaahe;N to phir kyaa chaahiye
please desire good/beautiful ones as much as you may please/desire
if these/this would want [something or someone], then what else is needed?
har qadam duurii-e manzil hai numaayaa;N mujh se
merii raftaar se bhaage hai biyaabaa;N mujh se
at every footstep, the distance of the {destination / halting-place} is apparent/manifest through/from me
with/through/from my pace/movement, the desert flees from/through me
va;hshat-e aatish-e dil se shab-e tanhaa))ii me;N
.suurat-e duud rahaa saayah gurezaa;N mujh se
through/from/with the wildness/fear/madness of the fire of the heart, in the night of solitude
{like / in the form of} smoke, the shadow remained in flight from/through me
be-;xvudii bistar-e tamhiid-e faraa;Gat huujo
pur hai saa))e kii :tara;h meraa shabistaa;N mujh se
may/might/would self-lessness be the bedding of the introduction/arrangement of completion/rest/ease
my bedchamber/’night’chamber is filled, like (a) shadow/shade, with me
gardish-e saa;Gar-e .sad-jalvah-e rangii;N tujh se
aa))inah-daarii-e yak diidah-e ;hairaa;N mujh se
the going-around of a colorful hundred-{gloried/appearanced} flagon, from/through you
the mirror-possessing of one stupefied eye, from/through me
thii nau-aamoz-e fanaa himmat-e dushvaar-pasand
sa;xt mushkil hai kih yih kaam bhii aasaa;N niklaa
difficulty-loving Courage was a {novice / new arrival} in oblivion
it is a severe difficulty that this task too turned out to be easy
dhamkii me;N mar gayaa jo nah baab-e nabard thaa
((ishq-e nabard-peshah :talabgaar-e mard thaa
he who was not an encyclopedia/gate of battle died in the [initial] threatening
Passion, a professional at battle, was a seeker of men
yih laash-e be-kafan asad-e ;xastah-jaa;N kii hai
;haq ma;Gfarat kare ((ajab aazaad mard thaa
this corpse without a shroud is that of the broken-down Asad
God have mercy on him, he was a strangely free man!
shumaar-e sub;hah mar;Guub-e but-e mushkil-pasand aayaa
tamaashaa-e bah yak-kaf burdan-e .sad dil pasand aayaa
the counting of the prayer-beads was enjoyable to the difficulty-loving idol
the spectacle of the holding of a hundred hearts in one hand pleased her
sataayishgar hai zaahid is qadar jis baa;G-e ri.zvaa;N kaa
vuh ik guldastah hai ham be-;xvudo;N ke :taaq-e nisyaa;N kaa
the Garden of Rizvan that the Ascetic praises to such an extent–
it is one bouquet in the niche of forgetfulness of us self-less ones
na:zar me;N hai hamaarii jaadah-e raah-e fanaa ;Gaalib
kih yih shiiraazah hai ((aalam ke ajzaa-e pareshaa;N kaa
in our sight/gaze is the path of the road of oblivion, Ghalib
for this is the stitched-binding of the scattered parts/signatures of the world
nah hogaa yak-biyaabaa;N maa;Ndagii se ;zauq kam meraa
;habaab-e maujah-e raftaar hai naqsh-e qadam meraa
from a desertful of fatigue my relish won’t become less
my footprint is a bubble of a wave of movement
mu;habbat thii chaman se lekin ab yih be-dimaa;Gii hai
kih mauj-e buu-e gul se naak me;N aataa hai dam meraa
I loved the garden– but now, this [degree of] irritation exists
that the breath comes into my nose with a wave of rose-scent
shab hu))ii phir anjum-e ra;xshindah kaa man:zar khulaa
is takalluf se kih goyaa butkade kaa dar khulaa
night came, again/then the scene of shining stars opened
with such ceremony, as if the door of an idol-temple opened
hai ;xiyaal-e ;husn me;N ;husn-e ((amal kaa saa ;xiyaal
;xuld kaa ik dar hai merii gor ke andar khulaa
in the contemplation of beauty, is the contemplation of something like beauty of action
one door to heaven, inside my grave, {opened / became revealed}
rang-e shikastah .sub;h-e bahaar-e na:zaarah hai
yih vaqt hai shuguftan-e gulhaa-e naaz kaa
a defeated/sickly color is the morning of the springtime of sight
this is the time of the blooming of the roses of coquetry
kuchh nah kii apnii junuun-e naarasaa ne varnah yaa;N
;zarrah ;zarrah ruu-kash-e ;xvurshiid-e ((aalam-taab thaa
my incapable madness did nothing, otherwise here
every sand-grain was a rival/equal of the world-warming sun
;Gam agarchih jaa;N-gusil hai pah kahaa;N bache;N kih dil hai
;Gam-e ((ishq agar nah hotaa ;Gam-e rozgaar hotaa
although grief is life-destroying, how would we escape, since/while there is a heart?
if there were not the grief of passion, there would be the grief of {livelihood / the whole world}
kahuu;N kis se mai;N kih kyaa hai shab-e ;Gam burii balaa hai
mujhe kyaa buraa thaa marnaa agar ek baar hotaa
to whom might I say what/how it is– the night of grief is a bad disaster!
why would I have minded dying, if it took place one time?
daam-e har mauj me;N hai ;halqah-e .sad kaam-e nihang
dekhe;N kyaa guzre hai qa:tre pah guhar hote tak
in the net of every wave is a circle of a hundred crocodile-mouths
let [us] see what happens to the drop until it becomes a pearl
gar tujh ko hai yaqiin-e ijaabat du((aa nah maa;Ng
ya((nii ba;Gair-e yak dil-e be-mudda((aa nah maa;Ng
if you are confident of [God’s] acceptance [of your prayer], don’t ask in prayer
that is, except for a single heart with no intention/motive, don’t ask [for anything else] in prayer
likhtaa huu;N asad sozish-e dil se su;xan-e garm
taa rakh nah sake ko))ii mire ;harf par angusht
[I] write, Asad, out of the burning of the heart, ‘hot’/enthusiastic poetry
so that no one would be able to {’put a finger on’ / criticize } my letters
sham((a bujhtii hai to us me;N se dhuvaa;N u;Thtaa hai
shu((lah-e ((ishq siyah-posh hu))aa mere ba((d
[when] a candle goes out, then from within it smoke arises
the fire of passion became black-robed, after me
nah puuchh be-;xvudii-e ((aish-e maqdam-e sailaab
kih naachte hai;N pa;Re sar bah sar dar-o-diivaar
don’t ask about the self-lessness of the enjoyment of the coming of the flood
for [they] dance, fallen, end to end– doors and walls
:taa((at me;N taa rahe nah mai-o-angabii;N kii laag
doza;x me;N ;Daal do ko))ii le kar bihisht ko
so that, in obedience, the attachment/desire of wine and honey would not remain
let someone take Paradise, and cast it into Hell
huu;N mun;harif nah kyuu;N rah-o-rasm-e ;savaab se
;Te;Rhaa lagaa hai qa:t qalam-e sarnavisht ko
why would I not be turned aside from the path and custom of religious merit?
the nib has been cut/attached crooked, to the pen of destiny
hai aadmii bajaa-e ;xvud ik ma;hshar-e ;xiyaal
ham anjuman samajhte hai;N ;xalvat hii kyuu;N nah ho
a man is, {in his own right / instead of himself}, a single assembly/doomsday of thought
we consider it a gathering, even if it be solitude
vafaadaarii bah shar:t-e ustuvaarii a.sl-e iimaa;N hai
mare but-;xaane me;N to ka((be me;N gaa;Rho barahman ko
faithfulness, on the condition of firmness, is the root/principle/origin of faith/religion
if he died in the idol-house, then bury the Brahmin in the Ka’bah
nah lu;Ttaa din ko to kab raat ko yuu;N be;xabar sotaa
rahaa kha;Tkaa nah chorii kaa du((aa detaa huu;N rahzan ko
if I hadn’t been looted in the day, how/when would I have slept carelessly/ignorantly like this at night?
there remained no alarm/knock of theft– I bless the highway-robber!
hai kuchh aisii hii baat jo chup huu;N
varnah kyaa baat kar nahii;N aatii
it’s somewhat of a certain kind of matter, such that I’m silent
otherwise– don’t I know how to talk?
ham vahaa;N hai;N jahaa;N se ham ko bhii
kuchh hamaarii ;xabar nahii;N aatii
we are there, from where even/also to us
no information about us comes
haa;N bhalaa kar tiraa bhalaa hogaa
aur darvesh kii .sadaa kyaa hai
indeed, do good– then good will happen to you
what else is the call of the Darvesh?
jaan tum par ni;saar kartaa huu;N
mai;N nahii;N jaantaa du((aa kyaa hai
I offer/sacrifice my life for you
I don’t know what a ‘prayer/blessing’ is
mai;N ne maanaa kih kuchh nahii;N ;Gaalib
muft haath aa))e to buraa kyaa hai
I agree that Ghalib is nothing
if you’d get him for free, then what’s {the harm / so bad}?
rau me;N hai ra;xsh-e ((umr kahaa;N dekhiye thame
ne haath baag par hai nah paa hai rakaab me;N
the steed of lifetime/age is in motion– let’s see– where might he halt?
neither is the hand on the reins, nor is the foot in the stirrup
nigah-e garm se ik aag ;Tapaktii hai asad
hai chiraa;Gaa;N ;xas-o-;xaashaak-e gulistaa;N mujh se
from a hot/warm gaze/glance a single/special fire drips, Asad
the dried-grass-and-woodchips of the garden is a {lamp-display /light-show}, {through / because of} me
baaziichah-e a:tfaal hai dunyaa mire aage
hotaa hai shab-o-roz tamaashaa mire aage
the world is a toy for children, before me
night-and-day is [habitually] a spectacle, before me
ik khel hai aurang-e sulaimaa;N mire nazdiik
ik baat hai i((jaaz-e masii;haa mire aage
the throne of Solomon is one pastime/amusement/game, in my view
the miracle of the Messiah is {all one / one utterance}, before me
juz naam nahii;N .suurat-e ((aalam mujhe man:zuur
juz vahm nahii;N hastii-e ashyaa mire aage
except as a name, the aspect of the world is not {accepted/’seen’} by me
except as an illusion, there’s no existence of substances {in my view / before me}
phir dekhiye andaaz-e gul-afshaanii-e guftaar
rakh de ko))ii paimaanah-e s.ahbaa mire aage
then look at the style of rose-scattering of speech–
let someone place the flagon of wine before me
;xvush hote hai;N par va.sl me;N yuu;N mar nahii;N jaate
aa))ii shab-e ;hijraa;N kii tamannaa mire aage
[they(?)] are happy, but [they(?)] don’t die {like this / gratuitously}, in union
the longing of the night of separation came before me
hai mauj-zan ik qulzum-e ;xuu;N kaash yihii ho
aataa hai abhii dekhiye kyaa kyaa mire aage
a single {’Red Sea’ / sea} of blood is rippling/roiling– if only this would be it!
let’s see what-all now comes before me
ham-peshah-o-ham-mashrab-o-ham-raaz hai meraa
;Gaalib ko buraa kyuu;N kaho achchhaa mire aage
he’s a practice-sharer and drink-sharer and secret-sharer of mine
why would you vilify/’badmouth’ Ghalib? He’s fine/’good’, in my view!
