Humse khul jaao ba-waqt-e-mai-parasti ek din

Let wine persuade your heart to gently sway one day, Or I'll feign drunkenness and have my sway one day.

Let not the pride of worldly heights hold sway one day, For every peak is destined to decay one day.

We drank on credit, knowing our own way one day, This cheerful poverty would richly pay one day.

O heart, let sorrow's anthems also play one day, This fragile instrument of life won't play one day.

That graceful form would never act that way one day; Poor Ghalib, I alone had lost my way one day.