Sargashtagi mein aalam-e-hasti se yaas hai
19th Century Mirza Ghalib UrduLost in existence, only deep despair is; Tell Solace that to die is all my prayer is.
She never asks about my wandering heart's affair, Assuming that it's still within my care is.
How can I speak of grief's ecstatic, fevered flare? Each hair upon my skin a tongue of prayer is.
A stranger to all faith, from pride in being fair, Although her heart of what is true aware is.
Drink all the wine you can in moonlit, midnight air; For this cold soul, a cure beyond compare is.
A place is honored by its dweller, this I swear, Asad; Since Majnun died, the wilderness in deep despair is.
What sorrow can he have, whose guide is one like Ali? O heaven-stricken soul, why this bewilderment and folly?