Respect these hands. 

Honour these hands. 

They move the world; 

Respect these hands.

,.

They put in motion the wheels of history and machines; 

They write the story of the world, the narrative of humankind; 

They bring forth the full-bloomed youth of both culture and civilisation.

Respect these hands.

.

They have passed across centuries; they know good and bad;

They are the whole world’s friend, but they recognise their enemy;

They are the avatars of strength; when do they acknowledge the strength of a foreigner?

Respect these hands.

.

These flowers in the vases are the wounds of our hands; 

The wine glasses in the tavern are now dry, thirsty cupped hands;

The palace arches are hundreds of frozen arcs, hands and arms stretching after sleep; 

Respect these hands.

.

The golden lights of the road spread upon the gown of electricity,

Palace candelabras, the harvest of colour, of light

Are our hands burning up, our hands lit up;

Respect these hands.

.

They are silent in silence; they make multitudes of lutes, harps;

They make melody sleep in the strings; they hide bols in the tabla;

When there is a stir in the strings, our hands sing;

Respect these hands. 

.

Miraculous hands; if they touch silk, it becomes a veil;

If stone, it becomes a statue; if blackness, it becomes mascara;

If earth, it becomes gold; if silver, it becomes ankle bells; 

Respect these hands.

.

The flowing wave of electricity, the gathered currents of the Ganges,

Masters of earth’s destiny, planets on the horizon of toil—

These healers of the world’s pain, but themselves helpless for centuries;

Respect these hands.

.

They are the creation of the churning of toil, the masterpiece of Nature,

In the field of action, they are the creators and builders; 

They are a branch laden with flowers, and a sword in action;

Respect these hands.

.

~~~

If these hands are not there, all writings and speeches are foolish; 

If these hands are not there, the destinies of mankind are meaningless; 

All wisdom, learning, knowledge, and art are the commentaries of these hands;

Respect these hands.

.

How delicate and graceful are these! Well-shaped, beautiful!

They are masters in cunning, children in innocence; 

In this filthy world of falsehood, only our hands are true;

Respect these hands.

.

They join at every frontier and go forth to every country;

They join arm in arm, hearts with hearts;

Then they become the heavy chain on the feet of the tyranny and oppression;

Respect these hands.

.

To build is their nature; let there be a new building;

Let there be a new plan, a new destiny;

Let there be more cheerful, beautiful dreams; let there be more cheerful,

Beautiful interpretations [of these dreams].

Respect these hands. 

.

Honour these hands. 

They move the world; 

Respect these hands.

.

From:  Ek k̲h̲vāb aur (One More Dream), 1965. pp. 19 – 22

Hāthon̲ kā tarānah is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970