Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Ye that once lived, and now lost are whose traces,Mirza Ghalib

His are peace and rest of nights
His ALL the pride.
The grief no longer needed 'its remedy;
I got no better, better still not to be..
Why should you gather my rivals?
It will be fun, not my trial.
If you don't want to test your dagger's lust,
Where else might I find someone to try my luck?
How sweet your lips happened to be,
Even insults did not upset my enemy.
She will be coming over - a rumour is hot in the air.
Just today in my house not a piece of mat is there.
I was not Nimrod, one who proclaimed God to be.
I was your servant, but what good was it to me?
I gave my life, but it was His gift.
To be- fair, I did no justice to it.
The wound though healed, blood did not stop to drain.
Work once hindered, would not get back on track again.
A robbery or breaking of a heart - What is it?
The heart-breaker snatched and got away with it.
Read something at least, for people say,
"Ghalib is not singing his lyrics today."

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