Jaur se baaz aaye par baaz aayein kya

She’s quit her cruelty, but now will not explain; How can she show her face to me? What is there to say?

The heavens turn forever, bringing joy and pain; So something’s bound to happen, why should we complain? What is there to say?

If there were hate, I’d call it love’s own bitter strain; With nothing there, what falsehood can my heart sustain? What is there to say?

Why did I walk beside the messenger in vain? Must I now go and make my own intentions plain? What is there to say?

Let waves of blood wash over me, a crimson rain; From your sacred threshold, must I not remain? What is there to say?

My whole life long I looked for death, and looked again; Now I am dead, what is there left for me to gain? What is there to say?

She asks of you, “And who is Ghalib?”—so profane. Someone please tell me, what am I to now explain? What is there to say?