Before the messenger arrives, another letter I shall pen,
Knowing the words they'll send, a response I can't suspend.
Since when, in this world's decay, have I been a thread?
Since when, in this world's decay, have I been a tread?
If I were to count the nights of absence, their weight would spread.
Once, in a gathering, the cup's round reached my hand,
Once, in a gathering, the cup's round reached my strand.
Has the cupbearer mixed something more in the wine's command?
Infidel, in waiting, sleep deserts me through the years,
Infidel, in waiting, sleep deserts me, filled with fears.
They promised to come, yet only in dreams they appear,
Ghalib, I've forsaken drink, but sometimes I still shed tears,
Ghalib, I've forsaken drink, but sometimes I still feel cheers,
I drink in the face of honor, on nights the moon endears.
Since when, in this world's decay, have I been held near?
If I were to count the nights of absence, their weight would appear.
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