bis baras se khade the jo is gati nahr ke dwar
jhumte kheton ki sarhad par banke pahre-dar

ghane suhane chhanw chhidakte bor lade chhatnar
bis hazar mein bik gae sare hare bhare ashjar

urban expansion
jin ki sans ka har jhonka tha ek ajib tilism

qatil teshe chir gae un sawanton ke jism
they who have stood at the gate of this singing stream for twenty years

elegant sentinels at the borders of rolling fields
agreeably dark, shade-sprinkling, fruit laden, tall

for twenty thousand were sold away all the verdurous trees
they whose every gusty breath was strange magic

murderous axes came and split the bodies of those heroes
down with a thud fell the blue wall of wounded trees

huge bodies being sawn, falling skeletons, leaf and fruit being cut away
heaps of dead bodies in the pale shroud of trembling sunlight

today standing beside the gate of this singing stream i think
in this shambles my thought is the only flowering branch

now, o children of adam, a mortal blow for me too.
giri dhadam se ghayal pedon ki nili diwar

katte haikal jhadte pinjar chhatte barg-o-bar
sahi dhup ke zard kafan mein lashon ke ambar

aaj khada main sochta hun is gati nahr ke dwar
is maqtal mein sirf ek meri soch lahakti dal

mujh par bhi ab kari zarb ek ai aadam ki aal