|Come out of the monastery and play the role of Shabbir,|
for monastery’s faqr is but grief and affliction.
Thy religion and literature both smell of renunciation:
symbol of old age of dying nations.
Imperialism has myriads of Satans with eyes full of magic charms
that evoke among the prey an irresistible urge to be its victim.
How carelessly they passed by, with no ear to my lamentations,
The Kashmiri’s black eyes, so lacking in lustre and life, who made them so dead and mute?