May I be the sacrifice of your lane, O my country, where 

It has become the custom that no one should walk with head raised head; 

If any lover goes for a walk, he should walk!

As if to avoid being seen and guard his body and soul.

Now for lovers, this is the system of captivity and release: 

Stone and bricks are imprisoned, and dogs are set free.

.

Whom should they take as their advocate?

The few mad people who take your name are too much 

For tyranny’s pretext-seeking hand!

The ambitious are plaintiffs as well as judges;

Whom should we seek to plead for us?

Whom should we seek justice from?

But there are people who nonetheless pass their days

And spend their morning and evenings thus: Separated from you!

.

When the light of the prison portal was extinguished, the heart felt

That the parting of your hair must have become filled with stars;

When the chains have glittered, we thought

That the dawn must now have scattered on your cheeks.

In short, we spend our life in the thought of evenings and dawns

We live in the clutches of imagining the shadow of our four walls.

.

People have always struggled with tyranny in this manner; 

Neither is their custom new nor our ways different;

It is for this reason that we do no complaint about the heavens;

And do not make our heart bitter in separation from you.

If today we are separated from you, tomorrow we will be together; 

This separation of one night is of no consequence.

.

If today the fortunes of the rival are at their highest, so what?

This temporary godliness is of no consequence;

Those who keep firm their pledge of fidelity with you

Have the cure for the motions of night and day.

    DS, 76-79

.

From: Dast-i ṣabā (Hand of the Wind). Dihlī: Senṭral Buk Ḍipo, 1952. pp. 76 – 79

Nis̲ār main̲ terī galiyon̲ pih is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970