zaKHm par chhiDken kahan tiflan-e-be-parwa namak
zaḳhm par chhiḌkeñ kahāñ tiflān-e-be-parvā namak
kyā maza hotā agar patthar meñ bhī hotā namak
where, salt upon my wounds do these careless children strew
what relish would result if salt did their stones imbue
gard-e-rāh-e-yār hai sāmān-e-nāz-e-zaḳhm-e-dil
varna hotā hai jahāñ meñ kis qadar paidā namak
dust of her path, in wounds of my heart, does pride induce
for else, salt, to this extent, where could the world produce
mujh ko arzānī rahe tujh ko mubārak hojiyo
nāla-e-bulbul kā dard aur ḳhanda-e-gul kā namak
may I be blessed with pain of the nightingale's lament
may you be graced by the flower's laughter's salt content
shor-e-jaulāñ thā kanār-e-bahr par kis kā ki aaj
gard-e-sāhil hai ba-zaḳhm-e-mauja-e-dariyā namak
on ocean's edge, whose, galloping, steed raised this clamour
like salt rubbed on ocean's wound, seems the sand on shore
daad detā hai mire zaḳhm-e-jigar kī vaah vaah
yaad kartā hai mujhe dekhe hai vo jis jā namak
my liver's wounds she praises I'm glad to this degree
wherever she then salt espies, she does think of me
chhoḌ kar jaanā tan-e-majrūh-e-āshiq haif hai
dil talab kartā hai zaḳhm aur māñge haiñ a.azā namak
to leave a lover's battered frame? pity is indeed!
his heart desires wounds and salt, body parts do need
ġhair kī minnat na khīñchūñgā pai-e-taufīr-e-dard
zaḳhm misl-e-ḳhanda-e-qātil hai sar-tā-pā namak
To exacerbate my pain, to rivals I won't go
my wounds, like my killers laugh, are salt from head to toe
yaad haiñ 'ġhālib' tujhe vo din ki vajd-e-zauq meñ
zaḳhm se girtā to maiñ palkoñ se chuntā thā namak
can those days be then recalled when in desire's spell
with my lashes I would sift if from my wounds salt fell
is amal meñ aish kī lazzat nahīñ miltī 'asad'
zor nisbat mai se rakhtā hai azārā kā namak
zaKHm par chhiDken kahan tiflan-e-be-parwa namak
kya maza hota agar patthar mein bhi hota namak
where, salt upon my wounds do these careless children strew
what relish would result if salt did their stones imbue
gard-e-rah-e-yar hai saman-e-naz-e-zaKHm-e-dil
warna hota hai jahan mein kis qadar paida namak
dust of her path, in wounds of my heart, does pride induce
for else, salt, to this extent, where could the world produce
mujh ko arzani rahe tujh ko mubarak hojiyo
nala-e-bulbul ka dard aur KHanda-e-gul ka namak
may I be blessed with pain of the nightingale's lament
may you be graced by the flower's laughter's salt content
shor-e-jaulan tha kanar-e-bahr par kis ka ki aaj
gard-e-sahil hai ba-zaKHm-e-mauja-e-dariya namak
on ocean's edge, whose, galloping, steed raised this clamour
like salt rubbed on ocean's wound, seems the sand on shore
dad deta hai mere zaKHm-e-jigar ki wah wah
yaad karta hai mujhe dekhe hai wo jis ja namak
my liver's wounds she praises I'm glad to this degree
wherever she then salt espies, she does think of me
chhoD kar jaana tan-e-majruh-e-ashiq haif hai
dil talab karta hai zaKHm aur mange hain aaza namak
to leave a lover's battered frame? pity is indeed!
his heart desires wounds and salt, body parts do need
ghair ki minnat na khinchunga pai-e-taufir-e-dard
zaKHm misl-e-KHanda-e-qatil hai sar-ta-pa namak
To exacerbate my pain, to rivals I won't go
my wounds, like my killers laugh, are salt from head to toe
yaad hain 'ghaalib' tujhe wo din ki wajd-e-zauq mein
zaKHm se girta to main palkon se chunta tha namak
can those days be then recalled when in desire's spell
with my lashes I would sift if from my wounds salt fell
is amal mein aish ki lazzat nahin milti 'asad'
zor nisbat mai se rakhta hai azara ka namak
Source:
Deewan-e-Ghalib Jadeed (Pg. 241)
- Author: Mirza Ghalib
-
- Publisher: Madhya Pradesh Urdu Academy, Bhopal
- Year of Publication: 1982
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