Dekhna Kismat Ki - Mirza Ghalib

New Recording

20157 - Ghalib's Dekhna Kismat Ki Aap Apne 

F# major, 7/8 78bpm

Inspiration: A random violin sample and a random ghazal from Mirza Ghalib's book

- Mirza Ghalib

Dekhna Kismat Ki Aap Apne Pe Rashk Aa Jaaye Hai

Main Use Dekhoon Bhala Kab Mujhse Dekha Jaaye Hai

Haath Dho Dil Se Yahi Garmi Gar Andeshe Main Hai
Aabgina Tundi-E-Sahbaa Se Pigla Jaaye Hai

Ghai Ko Yaarab Wo Kyun Kar Manaa-E-Gustaakhi Kare
Gar Hayaa Bhi Usko Aati Hai To Sharma Jaaye Hai

Shauq Ko Ye Lat Ke Hardam Naala Khenche Jaaiye
Dil Ki Wo Haalat Ki Dam Lene Se Gabra Jaaye Hai

Dur Chashm-E-Bad Teri Bazm-E-Taraab Se Waah Waah
Nagma Ho Jaata Hai Waan Gar Naala Mera Jaaye Hai

Garche Hai Tarz-E-Tagaaful Pardadaar-E-Raaz-E-Ishq
Par Ham Aise Khoye Jaate Hain Ki Wo Paa Jaaye Hai

Uski Bazmaraaiyaan Sunkar Dil-E-Ranjuur Yaan
Misl-E-Naqsh-E-Mudda-E-Ghai Baitha Jaaye Hai

Hoke Aashiq Wo Pari Rukh Aur Naazuk Ban Gaya
Rang Khulta Jaaye Hai Jitna Ki Udtaa Jaaye Hai

Naqsh Ko Uske Musawwir Par Bhi Kya Kya Naaz Hai
Khenchta Hai Jis Qadar Utna Hi Khinchta Jaaye Hai

Saaya Mera Mujhse Misl-E-Dud Bhaage Hai ‘Asad’
Paas Mujh Aatishba-Jaan Ke Kis Se Thahra Jaaye Hai

Give up your heart

if such ardor is in your consciousness

for the glass is melting with the wine's heat

Translation from https://urdupoet.net/dekhna-qismat-ki-aap-apne-pe-rashk-aa-jae-hai/

just see my fate, that of myself, how envious I be
that even I may look at her, when can I bear to see

write off your heart if there within heat of suspicion be
the crystal flask will melt due to the wine’s strong potency

my rival, how can she restrain, from taking liberty
as when she gets abashed she is, struck by timidity

desires are addicted to sighing with each intake
but at the thought of drawing breath my heart begins to quake

far, may the evil eye be from your joy-filled company
for, when my plaintive cry goes there, becomes a melody

forgetfulness might serve to screen, secrets of love somehow
but I get lost in such a way, that she then gets to know

news of her gilded gathering, here makes this mourful heart
sink, just the way, into her heart, as sinks my rival’s dart

herself in love, the fairy face, more delicate does seem
the more her colour drains more so, does her complexion gleam

what games of coyness does her painting with the painter play
as much as he attemtps to draw, it draws further away

from me my shadow just like smoke, seems now to fly away
for near a flaming soul as me, who could then bear to stay