Ye na thee hamaree kismat

Ye na thee hamaree kismat
Mirza Ghalib

ye na thee hamaree kismat ke wisaal-e-yaar hota
agar aur jeete rehte yahee intezaar hota
tere waade par jiye ham to ye jaan jhoot jaanaa
ke khushee se mar na jaate agar ‘eitabaar hota

teree naazukee se jaana ke bandha tha ‘ehed_booda
kabhee too na tod sakta agar oostuwaar hota
koee mere dil se pooche tere teer-e-neemkash ko
ye khalish kahaan se hotee jo jigar ke paar hota

ye kahaan ki dostee hai ke bane hain dost naaseh
koi chaarasaaz hota, koi ghamgusaar hota
rag-e-sang se tapakta wo lahoo ki phir na thamta
jise gham samajh rahe ho, ye agar sharaar hota

gham agarche jaan_gulis hai, per kahaan bachain ke dil hai
gham-e-ishq gar na hota, gham-e-rozgaar hota
kahoon kis se main ke kya hai, shab-e-gham buree bala hai
mujhe kya bura tha marna agar ek baar hota

hue mar ke ham jo ruswa, hue kyon na gharq-e-dariya
na kabhee janaaza uthata, na kaheen mazaar hota
usay kaun dekh sakta ke yagaana hai wo yaktaa
jo dooee ki boo bhee hotee to kaheen do chaar hota
ye masaail-e-tasawwuf, ye tera bayaan ‘Ghalib’!
tujhe ham walee samajhate, jo na baada_khwaar hota

Translation in English

It was not in my fate to meet my lover
Had I lived longer, this would still be my only desire
To live on your promise is to make my life a lie
Would I not have died of happiness if i trusted it

From your frailty I learnt that the promise was delicate
It would not stand broken had you been determined
Someone ask me about your half-drawn arrow
Would i even feel this pain if it had pierced my heart

What kind of friendship is this, that friends are now advisers
someone should ease my pain, someone sympathize with me
from every nerve drips blood without restraint
as if that which you think is anguish is but a spark

threatening as love is, there is no deliverance from the heart
if not the torment of love, it would be the torment of life
whom shall I narrate the pangs of these evenings of sorrow
i would have not resented this death, had it come only once

that I died and was disgraced, why was I not just drowned
never was there a funeral, no where was a tomb erected
who can see him since his Oneness is without peer
even the scent of his duality would be an introduction
this mysticism, these statements of yours Ghalib
you would be a saint, if only you were not inebriated

Rubaiyat
Omar Khayyam
Before the phantom of False morning died,
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
“When all the Temple is prepared within,
Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?”

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