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نثار میں تیری گلیوں کےnishar mein teri galiyon ke
نثار تیری گلیوں پہ اے وطن جہاں چلی ہے رسم کوئی
سر اٹھا کے نہ چلے وطن کی گلیوں میں
کوئی جستجو میں عشق میں بیٹھے ہیں ہم
آنسوؤں کی یہ باتیں درد سے چھپی ہیں
وقت کی زنجیر میں تیری گلیوں کے چہرے
نکارہ بن گئے خواب بنتے رہیں
I sacrifice myself in your streets, O homeland where it has become customary for no one to walk with their head held high.
Whoever desires to perform the pilgrimage walks with their gaze averted, protecting body and soul.
For the people of heart, this is now a poem of confinement and expansion, as stones and bricks are imprisoned while dogs roam free.
There is much cruelty in the hands of those who have excuses for it, those few who are the lovers of your name.
The people of greed have become both accuser and judge, whom should we appoint as our lawyer, from whom should we seek justice?
But the days of those who endure pass by, in your separation, they spend their mornings and evenings.