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

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