yahan se shahr ko dekho to halqa-dar-halqa
khinchi hai jel ki surat har ek samt fasil

har ek rahguzar gardish-e-asiran hai
na sang-e-mil na manzil na mukhlisi ki sabil

the city from here
jo koi tez chale rah to puchhta hai khayal

ki tokne koi lalkar kyun nahin aai
jo koi hath hilae to wahm ko hai sawal

koi chhanak koi jhankar kyun nahin aai
when you look at the city from here,

this is its pattern: circles within circles,
each outer one a wall imprisoning the inner,

no escape in any direction. each road,
each street seems viciously trapped, a prisoner

with no milestone, no destination,
and no occasion for fidelity.

yahan se shahr ko dekho to sari khilqat mein
na koi sahab-e-tamkin na koi wali-e-hosh

har ek mard-e-jawan mujrim-e-rasan-ba-gulu
har ek hasina-e-rana, kaniz-e-halqa-bagosh

when someone quickens his step, you think
at any moment he'll be ordered to halt.

when someone raises his arm, you wait
to hear the sudden chains of a handcuff.

jo sae dur charaghon ke gird larzan hain
na jaane mahfil-e-gham hai ki bazm-e-jam-o-subu

jo rang har dar-o-diwar par pareshan hain
yahan se kuchh nahin khulta ye phul hain ki lahu

when you look at the city from here,
among the populace you see no one

with any dignity or pride. no one is aware.
each young man walks like a criminal,

as if the scaffold's shadow were on his neck.
every beautiful woman's bracelets mark her a slave.