Even envy, I find it hard to bear,
Even envy, I find it hard to bear,
Though death may come, their wish I will not share.
Though death may come, their wish I will not share.
Behind the veil, with others, blood they spill,
Behind the veil, with others, blood they spill,
Is this a curtain, or a hidden ill?
Is this a curtain, or a hidden ill?
Though death may come, their wish I will not share.
These whispers of "no" and "yes" in vain,
These whispers of "no" and "yes" in vain,
You speak ill of Ghalib, it's a stain.
You speak ill of Ghalib, it's a stain.
You speak ill of Ghalib, it's a stain.
You speak ill of Ghalib, it's a stain.
Even envy, I find it hard to bear.
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