Huzoor-e-shah mein ahl-e-sukhan ki aazmaish hai

Before the king, the poet’s verbal might is put to the test; In garden groves, the songbird’s sweet flight is put to the test.

By her form and hair, the lover’s very sight is put to the test; Where we now stand, the gallows’ dreadful height is put to the test.

We’ll test the will of Koh-kan in his final fight; For now, this broken body’s fading might is put to the test.

What does the breeze from Egypt owe to Jacob’s sight? Its task to carry Yusuf’s scent, so pure and light, is put to the test.

He’s in the room, so watch with all your might; The gathered crowd’s composure in his light is put to the test.

The arrow in the heart is good; pierced liver, a better sight; The archer-idol’s perfect aim, so true and right, is put to the test.

The rosary and sacred thread hold nothing tight; The Sheikh and Brahmin’s faith, their inner light, is put to the test.

O restless heart, be still, what use is this your plight? And yet your strength against her tangled curls tonight is put to the test.

When sorrow’s poison fills each vein with endless night, For now, just bitter taste, a minor blight, is put to the test.

She’ll come to me? What promise? Ghalib, watch this fight! With this new turmoil, heaven’s ancient might is put to the test.