( 1 )

.

On this border yesterday the setting sun broke into two;

On this border yesterday the dawn of freedom was wounded;

This border of blood, tears, sighs, fire—

Where hatreds had been sown and swords harvested.

.

Here, the beloved’s eyes—stars—became restless;

Here the loved ones’ faces glittered behind tears;

Here the mother was separated from sons, from her dear sister, from her brother.

.

This border, drinking blood and spitting out flames,

Writhes upon the breast of our land like a snake,

Comes out in the field adorning herself with arms of war.

.

For how long have I been waiting at this border for tomorrow’s dawn?

.

( 2 )

.

The border of flowers, fragrance, colors, springs;

Laughing like the rainbow, meandering like the river,

Waving on the cheeks of our land like tresses,

Fragrant, lustrous, like the part in a bride’s hair

Divided in two

But with the sword of vermilion and the finger of sandalwood.

.

This border of lovers, beloveds, restless ones;

This border of friends, brothers, empathic ones;

May the bright sun come as the watchman at dawn;

May the heaven’s moon and stars stand guard at night;

May the earth be trampled with the assault of overflowing fields;

May the rows of the armies of trees invade;

May God preserve it from the eyes of the foes;

May the glances of kings trading in blood not fall on it;

May the iron feet of heavy machines not crush it;

May the mortal blow of craftsmen raid it;

May the fire flowers fly out from the heart of stone;

May the neck of the mountains bend in pick-axe arches;

May the lips’ thirst mould its own cup-bearers, its own wine cups;

May the eyes of the despondent brighten with joy;

May love be the ruler, beauty the murderer, the heart the messiah;

May fire rain down upon the garden of those with flame bodies and flower cheeks;

May the day come when hatred turns into tears and flows out from the heart;

May the day come when this border becomes the kiss of two lips.

.

( 3 )

.

This border of the eager, the passionate, the devoted,

This border of the smart writers of the land of the heart,

This border of the proud, the haughty,

This border of Lahore’s garden, Delhi’s breeze,

This border of the dreams of peace and freedom brightening the heart,

This border of setting stars, rising suns,

This border of the wounded roses of love blemished with blood.

.

How long have I been waiting at this border for tomorrow’s dawn?

      25 September 1965

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From: Pairāhan-i sharar (Garment of Fire), 1965. pp. 64 – 67

Ṣubḥ-i fardā is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970