The Song of Ghalib

Come, let us change the rule of heaven, let us change fate by revolving a heavy measure of wine;

Though the police-captain makes trouble, we will not worry, and if the king himself sends a present, we will reject it.

Though Moses converse with us, we will not say a word; though Abraham be our host, we will decline him.

Battling, the tribute-snatchers of the grove we will turn away from our garden’s gate with empty basket;

Peacefully, the birds that flutter their wings at dawn we will send back from the grove to their nests.

You and I are of Haidar, so no wonder would it be if we turn back the sun towards the East.