
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