Issi Sabab Se Qalandar Ki Ankh Hai Namnaak
One hermit’s eyes grew wet with watching how you fell,
Poor Muslim, under England’s spell.
Ke In Ke Waste Tu Ne Kiya Khudi Ko Halak
God give you joy of those high offices, to taste
Whose sweets you laid your own soul waste!
Samajh Gyi Hai Isse Har Tabiat-e-Chalak
But there’s a thing you cannot, try as you will, disguise
From any knowing pair of eyes:
Khareedte Hain Faqt Un Ka Johar-e-Idraak
No slave is given a partnership in England’s reign—
She only wants to buy her brain.