A Poem by Mirza Ghalib

Mirza Ghalib was the one of greatest poet in the Indian history. I translated this back in my college days.

I look at the joys of the world, as I look at the dust. Crying used to give me peace but now even my eyes have run dried.

When I am dead, wind might take my dust to my destination. Because now I have no more willpower to keep going.

For whom are these preparations of welcome, who is this lover from the heaven? All I see is flowers, and nothing else.

My love has left me capable of nothing. Now I just wish to live quietly somewhere.

Asad, my poetry is for times past. It is useless to write, when no one understands.

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