My troubled state bears no grievance of mutual jealousy. O friend, the cup of wine is your companion, while the weary yawn is mine.

Ghalib captures a profound, quiet acceptance of melancholy and emotional exhaustion here. He says his spirit is so utterly drained that it no longer even feels envy toward anyone else's happiness. While fortune grants you the brimming cup of wine and celebration, my constant companion is the weary yawn of deprivation—and I have grown completely at peace with this solitude.