by Nachoem M. Wijnberg
Ghalib announces in the newspaper that he is too weak to answer letters.
If someone comes to visit, he asks him to answer a letter for him.
Don’t complain that the letter is not in his handwriting.
He can still say things, but he can no longer listen, that’s something he was never any good at.
If someone comes to visit he asks him to write down what he wants to say,
Like in a letter, but he gets an answer right away.
One day I thought I knew exactly what I needed to do to be allowed to enter paradise.
I went to visit Ghalib and wrote a long letter to convince him to do just the same.
Every time I remember that I am so ashamed I cry out for help.
Ghalib said that he was almost dead and that he had done everything wrong his whole life.
When he is dead, his friends can tie a rope around his ankles
And drag him behind them as they stroll through the streets of the city.
The way I think about Ghalib does not have anything to do with whether or not he keeps to the rules
Thought up by someone else, perhaps his best friend.
A friend comes to tell me how I could have done something better, someone should console me.
I have always known that he could get drunk, but not so drunk that he no longer knows what he is doing,
And hopes to get rich by striking it lucky for once, something he doesn’t manage.
He always loses, but I want to do what he says when it comes to beginnings and ends.
Ghalib is happy with letters that only contain insults,
At least he doesn’t have to answer them before he is dead,
From now on he only answers letters of love.
Last updated November 13, 2022