hazāroñ ḳhvāhisheñ aisī ki har ḳhvāhish pe dam nikle
bahut nikle mire armān lekin phir bhī kam nikle
I have a thousand yearnings , each one afflicts me so
Many were fulfilled for sure, not enough although
Dare kyuuñ merā qātil kyā rahegā us kī gardan par
vo ḳhuuñ jo chashm-e-tar se umr bhar yuuñ dam-ba-dam nikle
Why is my murderer afraid would she have to account
For blood that ceaselessly, from these eyes does flow
nikalnā ḳhuld se aadam kā sunte aa.e haiñ lekin
bahut be-ābrū ho kar tire kūche se ham nikle
From Eden, of Adam’s exile, I am familiar, though
Greatly humiliated from your street didI have to go
bharam khul jaa.e zālim tere qāmat kī darāzī kā
agar is turra-e-pur-pech-o-ḳham kā pech-o-ḳham nikle
O cruel one, illusions of your stature all will know
If those devious curls of yours could straighten arow
magar likhvā.e koī us ko ḳhat to ham se likhvā.e
huī sub.h aur ghar se kaan par rakh kar qalam nikle
If someone wants to write to her, on me this task bestow
Since morning I am roaming with a pen upon my brow
huī is daur meñ mansūb mujh se bāda-ashāmī
phir aayā vo zamāna jo jahāñ meñ jām-e-jam nikle
The rites of drinking at this time with me associate
Days are here now again when Jamshed’s wine does flow
huī jin se tavaqqo ḳhastagī kī daad paane kī
vo ham se bhī ziyāda ḳhasta-e-teġh-e-sitam nikle
For my injuries, from those that, praise I did expect
They too turned out to be wounded, actually more so
mohabbat meñ nahīñ hai farq jiine aur marne kā
usī ko dekh kar jiite haiñ jis kāfir pe dam nikle
In love there is no difference ‘tween life and death do know
The very one for whom I die, life too does bestow
kahāñ mai-ḳhāne kā darvāza ‘ġhālib’ aur kahāñ vaa.iz
par itnā jānte haiñ kal vo jaatā thā ki ham nikle
Wherefrom the ‘saintly’ priest, and where the tavern’s door
But as I entered he was leaving, this much I do know