Lab-e-khushk dar-tishnagi-e-murdgaan ka

I am the dry lips of the thirst-slain, A sacred shrine for hearts that live in pain.

I am all hopelessness, all dark mistrust, The very heart of those who loved in vain.

A flower's bloom that hides a hunter's art, I am the dream of those in causeless pain.

The wronged exile, returned from sun and dust, I am the voice of those who break their chain.

A broken glass that shows a world of blight, The shared resolve of those who bear their strain.

A practiced grace that hides an inner blight, Asad, I am the smile of souls that wane.