Main unhein chherun aur kuch na kahein

I would have teased, and she would not deny, Had wine but given me the wings to fly so high.

Come wrath, come ruin, let the heavens try, If only you, my love, were standing nigh.

If such great sorrow was my fate's supply, Why not, my Lord, more hearts with which to cry?

She would have found her way to you, O Ghalib, why Could you not wait a few more days to die?