"Will these fits of Frenzy's passion release us anyhow?"

“Will these fits of Frenzy’s passion release us anyhow?”

What commiserative enterprise can my so-called friends bestow upon me?

In advance of this wound’s healing,

Will not their nails be grown and groomed to scratch again?

My Lordship, for how long has your inattention transgressed?

When we avow the condition of our hearts, you utter indifferently, ‘What?’

If my Lordship comes to council, I will accept with open arms!

Whoever can explain to me what will be explained to me then?

Today, I go there to capitulate,

Surrender this sword with shroud tied around my body.

What objection will they invent in order to delay my demise now?

If communal advisors imprison us,

Let it be! Good!

Will these fits of Frenzy’s passion release us anyhow?

We are the devotees of ringlets

Why would we run away from these chains?

We are seized by genuine loyalty

Why would we be unnerved by treachery? Imprisonment?

This town is now struck by the drought of affection, ardor, Asad [addressing self by name that also means “happy, fortunate, lucky, lion”].

All right! We have assented to live in Delhi! What now shall we eat?

Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan Ghalib (27 December 1797 – 15 February 1869) translated from the Urdu by Manfred Spencer Alverston & Associates.