My heart is no longer attached here,

In this desolate garden where evil conspires,

Has any true soul ever found true peace,

In a place of inconstancy, doubt and fear?

Tell my desires to seek a new abode,

For the heart is ablaze in a scorching fire,

The realm where forlorn souls found joy,

Has now been burnt down by flaming spears.

How unkind has fate been to poor Zafar* --

The king who ruled over a great empire --

He has been finally found dead in a distant land,

And deprived of a grave near his dear and near.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Translation of a famous ghazal by Mughal Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar. He was overthrown by the British after the 1857 revolt by Indians against the Englishmen who had come to India as merchants but connived and plotted against its own people. The evil of the British at that time can be gauged by the fact that they sent Bahadur Shah Zafar into exile in the Andaman Islands (A place where only convicts and prisoners of the state were deported) and his family was massacred. Ghalib, who was a contemporary of the Mughul Emperor has written about this in his letters. Here the King, a poet himself, has lamented about how the heart and mind feel when struck by misfortune.

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