Ten Poems
Habib Jalib
I I
What Does Pakistan Mean?
Bread, clothes and medicine
A little house to live in
Free education, as may right be seen
A Muslim, I, too, have always been
What does Pakistan mean
There is no God, but God, The Rab-al-
alameen
For American alms do not bray
Do not, the people, laugh away
With the democratic struggle do not play
Hold on to freedom, do not cave in
What does Pakistan mean
There is no God...
Confiscate the fields from the landowners
Take away the mills from the robbers
Redeem the country from its dark hours
Off with the lordly vermin
What does Pakistan mean
There is no God...
Sind, Baluchistan and Frontier
These three are to Panjab most dear
And Bengal lends them splendour
Anguished should not be their mien
What does Pakistan mean
There is no God...
This, then, is the basic thing
For the people, let freedom’s bell ring
From the rope, let the plunderer swing
Truly they speak, who the truth have seen
What does Pakistan mean
There is no God, but Allah...
II
Islam Is Not In Danger
Pakistan Ka Matlab Kya?
Roti, kapda aur dawa
Ghar rehne ko chhota sa
Muft mujhe talim dila
Mein bhi Musalmaan hoon wallah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah…
Amrika se mang na bhik
Mat kar logon ki tazhik
Rok na janhoori tehrik
Chhod na azadi ki rah
Pakistan ka matlab hai kya
La Ilaha Illalah…
Khet waderon se le lo
Milen luteron se le lo
Mulk andheron se le lo
Rahe na koi Alijah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah… 
Sarhad, Sindh, Baluchistan
Teenon hain Panjab ki jaan
Aur Bangal hai sab ki aan
Aai na un ke lab par aah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah…
Baat yehi hai bunyadi
Ghasib ki ho barbadi
Haq kehte hain haq agah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah…
II
Khatre Mein Islam Nahin
Endangered are the idle rich, bursting with
cash
Crumbling walls about to crash
All the centuries’ mish-mash
Islam is not in danger
Why do a few clans all the land rights enjoy
And those, who revere the Prophet, are
bereft of joy
Endangered are the beasts of prey
Multicoloured cars which in the streets
sashay
And for whom the American hearts sway
Islam is not in danger
Due to our slogans the palaces shake and
tremble
The towering ornate shops cannot our hopes
quell
Endangered are the robbers of the highway Choron ko makkaron ko
Western traders who make hay
Thieves and tricksters who waylay
Islam is not in danger
Holding aloft the banner of peace, loving all Aprna to manshoor hai Jalib, sare jahan se
humans, we are on the go
Loving all the world, O Jalib, is our proud
credo
Endangered are the palatial predators
The kings and their abettors
Nawabs and other such traitors
Islam is not in danger.
III
Maulana
Too long I have heard you preach and prate,
Maulana
But so far there has been no change in my
fate, Maulana
Keep to yourself your preachings of
gratefulness
My heart, like an arrow, they penetrate,
Maulana
The truth, only you know or God knows
Khatra hai zar daron ko
Girti hui diwaron ko
Sadiyon ke bimaron ko
Khatre mein Islam nahin
Sari zamin ko ghere hue hain aakhir chand
gharane kyon
Naam nabi ka lene wale ulfat se begane kyon 
Khatra hai khun khwaron ko
Rang birangi karon ko
Amrika ke pyaron ko
Khatre mein Islam nahin
Aaj hamare naaron se larza hai bapa aiwanon
mein
Bik na sakenge hasrat-o arman unchi saji
dukanon mein 
Khatra hai bat maron ko
Maghrib ke bazaron ko
Khatre mein Islam nahin
Amn ka parcham le kar utho har insane se
piyar karo
pyar karo 
Khatra hai darbaron ko
Shahon ke ghamkhwaron ko
Nawabon, ghaddaron ko
Khatre mein Islam nahin 
III
Maulana
Bahut mein ne suni hai aap ki taqreer Maulana
Magar badli nahin ab tak meri taqdeer
Maulana
Khudara Shukr ki talqeen apne pass hi rakhen
Yeh lagti hai mere seene pe ban kar teeer
Maulana
Nahin mein bol sakta jhut is darja dhitai se
Yehi hai jurm mera aur yehi taqsir Maulana
Haqeeqat ka kya hai, yeh to aap jaanen ya
They say that Jimmy Carter is your pir* Khuda jane
incarnate, Maulana Suna hai Jimmi Carter hai aap ka peer
The land to the landlords, the machine to the Maulana
despoilers Zameenen hon waderon ki, mashinen hon
This, according to you, is God’s dictate, luteron ki
Maulana Khuda ne likh ke di hai yeh tumhen terhrir
Why don’t millions fight for Palestine Maulana
Prayers alone cannot from chains liberate, Karodon kyon nahin mil kar Falastin ke liye
Maulana ladte
Dua hi se faqat kat-ti nahin zanjir Maulana
* Sufi saint
   
IV IV
Ghazal Ghazal

Hindustan belongs to me and Pakistan
belongs to me
Both of these, however, are under American Lekin in donon mulkon mein Amrika dera hai
hegemony
American aid gave us wheat, as also their
deceit
Do not ask me how long we’ve suffered their hain
conceit
And yet the bayonets are all around this
flowering valley
Hindustan belongs to me and Pakistan
belongs to me
Khan Bahadur, do not follow the English,
from them better keep away
Once again they are holding you by the
collar, you are still their prey
Macmillan was never thine, Kennedy can
never be
Hindustan belongs to me and Pakistan
belongs to me
This land in fact, my dear, belongs to
peasants and workers
Here will not run the writ of a few clannish
marauders
Hindustan bhi mera hai aur Pakistan bhi mera
hai
Aid ki gandam kha kar ham ne kitney dhokey
khai hain
Poochh na hamne Amrika ke kitne naaz uthai
 
Phir bhi ab tak wadi-e gul ko sangeenon ne
ghera hai
Hindustan bhi mera hai aur Pakistan bhi mera
hai 
Khan Bahadur chhodna hoga ab to saath
Angrezon ka
Ta bah gareban aa pahuncha hai phir se hath
Angrezon ka 
Macmilan tera na hua to Kenedy kab tera hai
Hindustan bhi mera hai aur Pakistan bhi mera
hai 
Yeh dharti hai asal mein, pyare, mazdooron
dahqanon ki
Is dharti par chal na sakegi marzi chand
gharanon ki
Zulm ki rat rahegi kab tak ab nazdik savera hai
Hindustan bhi mera hai aur Pakistan bhi mera
The dawn of freedom is heralding the end of hai
tyranny
Hindustan belongs to me and Pakistan
belongs to me.
   
V V
The Mother Maan

The children were shot dead Bachchon pe chali goli

The mother, in fury, said Maan dekh ke yeh boli
These pieces of my heart Yeh dil ke mere tukde
Should cry and I stand apart Yun royen mere hote
Looking on from afar Mein dur khadi dekhoon
This I cannot do Yeh mujh se nahin hoga 

I should look on from afar Mein Dur khadi dekhun

As the tyrants, night and day Aur ahl-e sitam khelen
With the blood of my children Holi* play Khun se mere bachchon ke
Besmirched in red Din-raat yahan holi
As the children were shot dead Bachchon pe chali goli
The mother, in fury, said Maan dekh ke yeh boli
These pieces of my heart Yeh dil ke mere tukde
Should cry and I stand apart Yun royen mere hote
Looking on from afar Mein dur khadi dekhun
This, I cannot do  Yeh mujh se nahin hoga 

* Spring festival played with coloured water Meidan mein nikal aayi
Ek barq si lehrai
She walked came down to the ground Har dast-e sitam kanpa
Like lightening flashing around Bandooq bhi tharrai
The tyrant’s hand trembled Har simt sada gunji
Full of fear the gun frowned Mein aati hun, mein aayee
Everywhere her echo did resound Mein aati hun, mein aayee
I am hereby bound, I am coming for this
round Har zulm hua batil
I am hereby bound, I am coming for this Aur seham gaye qatil
round  Jab us ne zaban kholi
Bachchon pe chali goli 
Then oppression became evil Us ne kaha khun-khwaro!
Panic-stricken were those who kill Daulat ke parastaro
When she thundered Dharti hai yeh ham sab ki
As our children were murdered  Is dharti ko naa-dano!
She said, you vampires Angrezon ke darbano!
Gold is the be all of your desires Sahab ki ata-kardah
This land belongs to us all Jagir na tum jano
This land, you Dunces Esquires Is zulm se baaz aao
Lackeys, still, to your British Sires Bairak mein chale jao
Kyon chand luteron ki
The sahib’s beneficence Phirte ho liye toli
Has not made you landlords: squires Bachchon pe chali goli
Desist from this tyranny
Back to your barracks, flee
You, who rove ahead
With a gang of plunderers you have bred
As our children were shot dead 
   
VI VI
The Garden Is A Bloody Mess  Bagiya Lahoo Luhan

This poem is about the oppression in East Haryali ko aankhen tarsen bagiya lahoo luhan
Pakistan in 1971 Pyar ke geet sunaoon kis ko shehar hue weeran
Bagiya lahoo luhan 
Our eyes yearn for greenery
The garden is a bloody mess Dasti hain suraj ki kirnen chand jalaye jaan
For whom should I sing my songs of love Pag pag maut ke gehre saye jeewan maut
The cities are all a wilderness saman
The garden is a bloody mess Charon ore hawa phirti hai le kar teer Kaman
Bagiya lahoo luhan 
The rays of the sun, they sting
Moonbeams are a killing field, no less Chhalni hain kaliyon ke seeney khoon mein lat
Deep shadows of death hover at every step paat
Life wears a skull and bone dress Aur nahjaney kab tak hogi ashkon ki barsaat
All around the air is on prowl Dunya walon kab beeteinge dukh ke yeh din
With bows and arrows, in full harness raat
The garden is a bloody mess  Khoon se holi khel rahe hain dharti ke balwan
Bagiya lahoo luhan
The battered buds are like a sieve
The leaves drenched in blood smears
Who knows, for how long
We’ll have this rain of tears
People how long do we have to bear
These days and nights of sorrow and distress
This oppressor’s blood bath is a frolicsome
play
For the mighty of the world, a mark of their
prowess
The garden is a bloody mess 
   
VII VII
God Is Ours Khuda Hamara Hai
Addressed to religious hucksters of any Khuda tumhara nahi hai khuda hamara hai
denomination and the system they defend – Use zamin pe yeh zulm kab gawara hai
translator’s note
Lahoo piyoge kahan tak hamara dhanwano
God is not yours, to Him we have access Badhao apni dukan seem-o zar ke deewano
He does not look kindly on those who Nishan kahin na rahega tumhara shaitano
oppress  Hamein yaqeen hai ke insaan usko pyara hai
Khuda tumhara nahin hai khuda hamara hai
How long, you men of pelf, will you bleed us Use zameen pe yeh zulm kab gaawara hai 
white
Get off our backs, you who in filthy lucre Nai shaoor ki hai roshni nigahon mein
take delight Ek aag si bhi hai ab apni sard aahon mein
You satans it is dust that you will soon bite Khilenge phool nazar ke sahar ki bahon mein
We believe that He treats mankind with Dukhe dilon ko isi aas ka sahara hai
loving tenderness Khuda tumhara nahin hai khuda hamara hai
He does not look kindly on those who Use zameen pe yeh zulm kab gawara hai
oppress 
Tilism-e sayah-e khauf-o hiras todenge
Light of new wisdom we are going to see Qadam bandhayenge zanjeere-e yaas todenge
A fire flares up, seeing our agony Kabhi kisi ke na ham dil ki aas todenge
In this new magical dawn will burst forth the Rahega yaad jo ehd-e sitam guzara hai
blossoming tree Use zamin pe yeh zulm kab gawara hai
He brings hopes to those who are mired in
distress
God is not yours, to Him we have access
He does not look kindly on those who
oppress

We’ll break the shadowy spell of fear and

dread
Onwards we will march, chains of despair
we will shred
We’ll not betray the hopes of the people, our
dear kindred
And long we will remember this time of
duress
He does not look kindly on those who
oppress
   
VIII VIII
To Rakhshinda Zoya Rakhshinda Zoya Se

13 April 1981, during a jail visit Keh nahin sakti par kehti hai
She cannot say it, but then Mujh se meri nanhi bachchi
My little one manages to say Abbu ghar chal
Father, come home Abbu ghar chal
Father, come home Us ki samajh mein kuchh nahin aata
She cannot comprehend Kyon zindan mein reh jaata hun
Why, in prison, I continue to stay Kyon nahin saath mein uske chalta
And not return with her, hand in hand Kaise nanhi samjhaoon
How should I explain to her Ghar bhi to zindan ki tarah hai
That home, too, is like a prison 
Kot Lakhpat Jail
   
IX IX
On Iqbal Centenary Yaum-E Iqbal Par

When we arise to wake the poor, the have Log uthte hain jab tere ghareebon ko jagane
nots Sab shehar ke zardar pahunch jaate hain
A beeline to the police station they make, thane 
these wealthy sots
Kehte hain yeh daulat hamein bakhshi hai
They say that God this wealth to them allots khuda ne
Oh these trite excuses, oh these dusty plots Farsudah bahane wahi afsaane purane 

Night and day the working men’s blood they Ai shair-e mashriq! Yehi jhute yehi bad zaat
suck, o poet of the East Peete hain laoo banda-e mazdoor ka din raat 
These congenital liars, with the vileness of a
beast
   
X X
The Government of Jack Boots Bootan Di Sarkar

If the dacoit had not had (Panjabi)

The village guard as his ally
Our feet would not be in chains Dakuan da je saath na dinda pind da pehredar
Our victory would not defeat imply Aj paireen zanjeer na hund jit na hundi har
Mourn with turbans round your necks Paggan apne gal wich pa lo turo pet de bhar
Crawling on your bellies, comply Chadh jaye te mushkil lehndi bootan di sarkar
Once the jack boot government is up
It’s hard, to make it bid good-bye

Written during Yahya Khan’s dictatorship

Translated from the Urdu and Punjabi by fowpe sharma.
Transliterated from the Urdu by Hasan Abdullah.
Prepared for publication by Amar Farooqui

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