A black serpent lies coiled
Around the wealth of pleasure,
Yesterday's slave is King
Over the mad of tomorrow
Each Pashtun trembles in fear
Lost is the name of Pashtuns
Honour has dried in the fearless eyes
Gone is the courage from the chests. 


Oh Pashtun!
I considered you the perfection
Of the human glory
In selfless head of yours was light 
In your sword I saw the crescent
In your debauched beasthood
the power of river waves
There was Zamzam in your poison
And majesty in your rage


I thought the savagery of a lion
Was not savagery but the glory of life
I thought the eagle was beautiful
Desirous of hunting the falcon
I thought that sometimes
You become a merciless fire
For inside you rages
A blazing storm of honour and pride 


Oh Pashtun!
Each of your faults
I justified beautifully
If you were a black desert of fire
I yet saw in you nightingales
I wished for you to hold your head up high
But never did I question
Did you have a reason to hold it high
How how, why, why.


These five years I spent
In hell, dungeon and fire
My head high up for future
And yours will remain lower
Twenty shames surrounding you
Yet there you’re in silence
As though you are a shameless corpse
Lying huddled in your home 


Fear lies in the heart
Of the scion of Alexander
While in a cage does tremble
The eagle's long feather
There he sits among the falcons
With hungry eyes and a head bare
While over him rules the vulture
On his head the Huma Crown


Oh, delirium of wine
Oh, father of the Mad
Prideful head of mine was bowed down
By dishonourable Pashtuns.


-Ghani Khan