Annual of Urdu Studies, v. 3, 1983 p. 17.

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Translated by Baidar Bakht & Kathleen Grant Jaeger


I don't complain of her indifference-She never scolds me for neglect. When we meet, it is always like this:

Our eyes whisper "stay", our feet are itching

to leave. With nothing to do, she's always in a hurry;

A busy man, I've always plenty of time. Nights and days keep passing; it's been like this

for years.


Let's throw this rock-like thing into the sea. Throw all the ocean's pearls on the vastness of

the desert,

Dump all the desert's sands upon the city, And wipe all fears of next day from our hearts. Let each man plant his own flag here, So that if we ever do return To find the living sand has devoured the city, We'll see our banners flying in the wind, And under them we'll raise our forebears' monuments.


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