ġhair leñ mahfil meñ bose jaam ke
ham raheñ yuuñ tishna-lab paiġhām ke
rivals get to sip from goblets in her company
thirsty for even a message I’m destined to be
ḳhastagī kā tum se kyā shikva ki ye
hathkanDe haiñ charḳh-e-nīlī-fām ke
why should I complain to you for my sorry state
tis the mischief of the sky that decides my fate
ḳhat likheñge garche matlab kuchh na ho
ham to āshiq haiñ tumhāre naam ke
blank letters I will write to you, it is all the same
because I am a lover, dear, of your very name
raat pī zamzam pe mai aur sub.h-dam
dho.e dhabbe jāma-e-ehrām ke
night, at zam-zam I had wine, and then, come dawn
stains in my holy cloak I washed, till they all were gone
dil ko āñkhoñ ne phañsāyā kyā magar
ye bhī halqe haiñ tumhāre daam ke
your eyes ensnared this heart of mine, how can one forget
these eyes of yours too are the strands of your beauty’s net
shaah ke hai ġhusl-e-sehhat kī ḳhabar
dekhiye kab din phireñ hammām ke
news of the king’s restorative bath is in the air
let’s see when the fortunes of the bath-house now repair
ishq ne ‘ġhālib’ nikammā kar diyā
varna ham bhī aadmī the kaam ke
Ghalib, a worthless person, this love has made of me
otherwise a man of substance I once used to be
