Hairaan hoon dil ko roun ke peetun jigar ko main

Should I now mourn my heart, or my own soul now tear? If I had means, I’d keep a hired mourner near me.

Such envy stops my tongue from naming your street's door; I ask each passerby which way I should explore.

A thousand times I've knocked upon my rival's door; I wish I'd never known the path I suffer for.

Why cinch it? Even my despair would be afraid; Don't I know all about the waist you haven't made?

And now she says I am a man of shameless ways; Had I but known, I'd not have squandered all my days.

I walk a while with anyone who swiftly goes, but which one is my guide, my own heart never knows.

The fools mistake this burning wish for pious prayer; Do you believe I worship that cruel idol there?

Lost in a trance, I lost the path that leads to you; Or else I would have gone to find my lost self, too.

I judge the world by standards that are all my own; I find that art's a treasure for the heart alone.

O Ghalib, God grant that my own two eyes may view Ali Bahadur, pearl of most exalted hue, as on his steed of grace he comes riding through me.