Khatar hai rishta-e-ulfat rag-e-gardan na ho jaave

I fear this bond of love, a life-constricting thread lest it become, For friendship’s pride is ruin, you, a source of dread lest it become.

In this harsh season, Ghalib, understand all growth is stunted, If on the cypress' height, the rose as robes is spread lest it become.