It was not my fate
It was not my fate that my love be returned.
If I'd lived longer I would still be waiting.
If I lived by your vows my life would be a lie.
I would gladly die if I could only believe.
Your weakness taught me that our bond was weak.
Could you have broken it if it had been strong?
Question my heart about your half-hearted arrow:
Would it hurt this much if the shaft had gone through?
What friends are these, who tell me what to do?
Will no one heal me, no one share my pain?
If this thing I call my sorrow had even a spark
The stones would drip blood, would open their veins.
Pain spends our lives away - why save the heart?
If it isn't spent on love, it's spent in making do.
To whom shall I complain that the night is dark?
Death wouldn't be so bad, if it only happened once.
Better a swift drowning, than death's endless disgrace.
No procession of mourners, no grave to return to.
All these riddles, Ghalib, this testimony of yours -
We'd think you a prophet, if you weren't always drunk.
- Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib
The original here and other recent translations here.
P.S. Going over the Seshadri translation again, the one phrase from it I really love (and envy) is "this grave anyone can visit". I'm not sure that's what Ghalib meant, but it's a brilliant line anyway.