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.

<b>Note: </b>
Azer: in the Islamic tradition, Abraham's father who manufactured and served Nimrod's idols. Known as Terah in the Judeo-Christian tradition.

[Trasnlated from Persian ]


About Mirza Ghalib


Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan (Urdu/Persian: مرزا اسد اللہ بیگ خان) was a classical Urdu and Persian poet from India during British colonial rule. His also known as 'Mirza Asadullah Khan Galib', 'Mirza Galib', 'Dabir-ul-Mulk' and 'Najm-ud-Daula'. His pen-names was Ghaliband Asad or Asad or Galib. During his lifetime the Mughals were eclipsed and displaced by the British and finally deposed following the defeat of the Indian rebellion of 1857, events that he wrote of. Most notably, he wrote several ghazals during his life, which have since been interpreted and sung in many different ways by different people. He is considered,... Read more...

Poet of the day

Isaac Rosenberg was an English poet of the First World War who was considered to be one of the greatest of all English war poets. His "Poems from the Trenches" are recognised as some of the most outstanding written during the First World War.

Isaac Rosenberg was born to Barnet...
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Poem of the day


Who will away to Athens with me? Who
Loves choral songs and maidens crown'd with flowers,
Unenvious? mount the pinnace; hoist the sail.
I promise ye, as many as are here,
Ye shall not, while ye tarry with me, taste
From unrinsed barrel the diluted...
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