It was never in my fate to meet my beloved.
Even if more years of life was to me allocated,
I would have been still awaiting the prize cherished.
If you think that I had been living on your promise, it is a lie.
For, if I had faith in you, would not of joy I would die.
Woe betide, my friendship, that the friends give pious advice and sermons they deliver.
I need someone on whose shoulders could I weep
who could allay my grief and my fears.
Whom should I tell that the night of sorrow is full of pangs.
I would not have resented the death, if it comes only once.
disgraced, as I was after my death, why didn’t I drown in a river or sea.
Neither, there would have been a funeral, nor tomb erected for me.
The marvels of ethical problems and your statements full of meanings.
I would have counted you Ghalib amongst dearest friends of God
if only, you had not been a lover of drinks.