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Poem

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- 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.

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