Ishrat-e-qatra hai darya mein fana ho jaana

A drop's true bliss is in the river to become; For pain to pass its limit is a cure to become.

My fate with you, a cipher-lock of destiny, was cast, for just as things came right, our fate was to become separate.

My heart was spent in struggles to relieve its pain; The rubbing wore away the knot's chance to become open.

Now I am deprived of even scorn, oh God, oh God! To such a foe of the devoted you have now become.

From weakness, weeping changed into a frozen sigh; At last I understood how water can become air.

To lose the memory of your henna-painted hand was like the nail from its own flesh becoming torn apart.

For me, a spring cloud, raining till it clears the sky, is in the grief of parting to become consumed.

If the rose-scent does not long to reach your lane, then why must it as dust on the swift breeze's path become?

The rose's vision grants the gift of sight, O Ghalib; The eye, in every color, must learn to become open.

So the wind's polishing miracle is revealed to you— just watch, in the monsoon, the mirror's turn to green.