Yaad hai shaadi mein bhi hangama-e-ya-rab mujhe

At celebrations, I recall my anguished plea, The holy man's devotion seems a secret smirk to me.

My knotted heart's release is mortgaged to the art of rhyme; The classroom was a cryptic, bolted alphabet for me.

My God, for this wild torment, where can justice ever be? I've come to envy prisoners their placid misery for me.

My nature craves the pleasure that from hopeless longing grows; From deep desire, I only want desire itself to close for me.

By falling into love, you, Ghalib, have become this very me; Though Mirza, your own sober self, forbade this love to me.