Nahin ke mujh ko qayamat ka aiteqad nahin

It's not that faith in Judgment's Day I've mislaid, is not, This night of parting holds far more to dread, is not.

Some praise the moonlit night, but what is there to praise? To hell with it, if day lacks clouds and wind instead, is not.

When I arrive, no word of welcome do they speak, And when I leave, no kind farewell is said, is not.

If I am ever mentioned, it is only said: 'Today the hall is free of strife and dread, is not.'

Beyond the feast day, wine is always poured and free, The beggar at the tavern's door goes home unfed, is not.

Let joy and sorrow mix throughout the world; what's that to me? God gave this heart a state where joy is dead, is not.

Oh Ghalib, why remind them of the vow they made? What game is this? You speak, and they claim mem'ries fled, is not.