Carrying the tales of our ancestors’ greatness in your mind,

Disappear into the vacuum of your dark toy houses.

Clasp the fairies of your marble dreams and sleep with them.

Walk on little clouds; 

—Fly with the moon and stars.

That is what you have received 

As an inheritance from our ancestors.

Darkness has ended; the red rays have spread;

Songs of the masses’ victory, of justice, of freedom 

Have echoed in the openness far in the West.

Gaseous smoke has started to pass over and 

Spread on the coast of the East;

The mouths of foreign guns 

Have begun to rain fire;

The roofs of the bedrooms have begun to fall.

Get up from your bed!

Show respect to your new lords,

And—then lose yourself in the vastness of your toy houses.

You’ve been sleeping for a long time—for a long time.

.

From: Talk̲h̲iyān̲ (Bitternesses). Dihlī: Panjābī Pustak Bhanḍār, 1963. pp. 94 – 97

Shahzāde is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970