Ghalib Mirza Asadullah Khan

Here you will find the Poem Hai bas ki har ik unke ishaare of poet Ghalib Mirza Asadullah Khan

Hai bas ki har ik unke ishaare

hai bas_ki har ik uNke ishaare meN nishaaN aur
karte haiN mohabbat to guzarta hai gumaaN aur

Yaa_Rab!, na vo samjheN haiN na samjheNge m'ri baat
de aur dil uNko, jo na de mujhko zubaaN aur

abruu se hai kya us nigeh-e-naaz ko, paiwaNd?
hai tiir moqarrar, magar uski hai kamaaN aur

tum shehr meN ho to hameN kya gham jab uTheNge
le aayeNge bazaar se jaa_kar, dil_o_jaaN aur

har_chaNd subuk_dast huye but_shikani meN
ham haiN to abhi raah meN haiN saNg-e-giraaN aur

hai khuuN-e-jigar josh meN dil khol ke rota
hote jo kaii diida-e-khuuN ya na nishaaN aur

martaa huN us aawaaz pe har_chaNd sar aR jaaye
jallad ko lekin vo kahe jaayeN ki 'haaN aur!'

logoNko hai khurshiid-e-jahaaN_taab ka dhoka
har roz dikhaataa huN maiN ik daagh-e-nihaaN aur

haiN aur_bhi duNiyaa meN sukhan_var bahot achchhe
kahte haiN ki 'Ghalib' ka hai aNdaaz-e-bayaaN aur

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although in her every indication, the aim is something else
If she shows her affection(with me), then different suspicion arises


oh Lord, 'they' have not understood, nor will [they] understand, my speech
give 'them' another heart, if you don't give me a different tongue


does that glance of coquetry have a connection with the eyebrow?
it is certainly an arrow- perhaps it has a different bow


if you're in the city, then what grief do I have? when we get up
I will go and bring back from the bazaar a different heart and life


although [I /we] became quick-handed / deft in idol-breaking
If I am alive, then in my path there will be many heavy-stones


the blood of the liver is in turmoil?or I would have wept to my heart's content
if I had had a number of different pure-blood-scattering eyes


I will die [of love] for that voice, although my head may fly off!
but let her keep saying to the executioner,'Yes, more/another!'


people are deceived about the world-{heating/burning} sun
every day I show one different hidden scar/wound

There are many good poets in this world.
But it is said that Ghalib is in a league of his own.