Poem – What Cannot Be Said – Mirza Ghalib 

There’s one who took my heart away. But does she own it? I can’t say. 
See her as unjust though I may, 

Is she a tyrant? I can’t say. 
She strides a bloodless battlefield 

Where there’s no battle-axe to wield. 
She keeps a wineless banquet-hall 

Where there’s no bowl to raise at all. 
Although she serves wine ceaselessly, 

Her fingers bring no cup to me. 
Her idol-carving hand is sure, 

But you cannot call her Azer 
When riots quiet down, why must 

You brag of ousting the unjust? 
There will be nothing you can say 

Of the unjust on Judgment Day. 
Within the breast the secret lies 

Which none can ever sermonize. 
How strange a thing it is that throws 

The mind askew till no one knows 
How I Ghalib am no believer 

But can’t be called unfaithful either. 

Poem – Heart It Is, Not A Brick Or Stone – Mirza Ghalib 

Heart it is, not a brick or stone 
Why shouldn’t it feel the pain? 

Let none tyrannize this heart 

Or I shall cry again and again 

Neither the temple, nor the mosque 

Nor on someone’s door or porch 

I await on the path where He will tread 

Why others should compel me to go? 

The illumined grace that lights up the heart 

And glows like the midday sun 

That Self that annihilates all sights 

When then it hides in the mysterious net? 

The amorous glance is the deadly dagger 

And the arrows of emotions are fatal 

Your image may be equally powerful 

Why should it appear before you? 

The rules of life and bonds of sorrow 

In reality are the one manifestation 

Before realizing the ultimate truth 

How can then one attain liberation? 

Love is laden with noble thoughts 

Yet what remains is the carnal shame 

Trust conscience the still little voice 

Why do you want test the rival? 

There the pride of modesty resides 

Here dwells the social morality 

How shall we meet, on which road 

Why should he invite me to the abode? 

True he is an atheist 

Unfaithful and unchaste 

Dear to who is faith and heart 

Why should he then venture there? 

Without the wretched ‘Ghalib’ 

Has any activity come to a halt? 

What then is the need to cry? 

What then is the need to brood?

Poem – Come That My Soul Has No Repose – Mirza Ghalib 

Come that my soul has no repose 
Has no strength to bear the injustice of waiting 
Heaven is given in return for the life of this world 

But that high is not in proportion to this intoxication 
Such longing has come from your company 

That there is no control over my tears 
Suspecting torment, you are indifferent to me 

So no love resides in these clouds of dust 
From my heart has lifted the meaning of pleasure 

Without blossoms, there is no spring in life 
You have pledged to kill me at last 

But there is no determination in your promise 
You have sworn by the wine, Ghalib 

There is no faith in your avowal