My translation of a thousands of desires, each one I could die for...

...hazaaron khwahishen aisi ke har khwahish pe dum nikle
bahot nikle mere armaan, lekin phir bhi kam nikle...

Thousands of desires, each one I could die for. Many of them I have fulfilled, but I still yearn for more. I died at the hands of a lover (my killer), why should he be afraid? No one will hold him responsible for my fate. Or for these bloody tears which will continuously flow through my eyes all of my life. Haven't we all heard of Adam disgraced out of Heaven? It is with more humiliation that I am leaving the streets of my lover. You killed me, but no one will know, unless I accidentally let my hair slip out of my scarf. Because things slip out sometimes, and we can not hide the truth from all people for all of time. Though the truth is complicated, and no one will believe it. 
And if ever someone wants to write you a letter, tell them to ask me to write it to you. 
I've been carrying my pen with me everywhere now, because there is still so much I have to say to you, so much I left unsaid.
When it was all over, I sang many whiskey lullabies to myself, until my whole universe was floating inside one big intoxication. I expected you to help me when I was weak, when I was in such a bad state; but then I realized: you are perhaps more injured than I. 
Love is so cruel? 
Life and death feel the same in love, there is nothing different, because we stay alive by looking for the traitor for whom we are willing to die. You should try to put a hand on your heart and pull the arrow out... fast. But remember, with this arrow your heart will come out too... and with your heart gone, your life will be no more. 
So, control yourself when you want to scream to the world and announce your secrets: traitors are not supposed be lovers. Just like the preacher and the addict have different doors, but I can see him enter the bar just as I leave it. 

Thousands of desires, each one I could die for. Many of them I have fulfilled, but I still yearn for more.


Dear readers,


This is my translation of the beautiful poetry of Ghalib. 
I doubt I have been able to do proper poetic justice... the words are best understood in the language they were written in. The first two lines are perhaps the most profound and famous in literary circles around the world - they capture the essence of man's desires, and how desire, like passion, all-consuming, and has no end. 


I look forward to reading your comments.


- JB