Ghalib

Near the Zam Zam Well
 
Others in your poetry gathering kiss the wine cup;
But we remain thirsty even for the invitation.
 
I won't complain about the way I'm being destroyed.
It must be a trick that the blue sky is playing on me.
 
I'll write this letter even though it may not have a message.
I'll send it just because I'm a lover of your name.
 
I drank wine that night near the well of Zam Zam,
And in the morning washed wine stains from my pilgrim's robe.
 
My own eyes have formed the loops in your net.
It's possible my heart had no choice but to be caught.
 
Ghalib, love has made you absolutely useless.
At one time Ghalib was useful for something.

 
Translation from Urdu © Robert Bly and Sunil Dutta

 

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