To express thy greatness, must have those terms with a size.
Devoid of it and valor a wisher wishes, winning you and rise.
That compassion ye clasp healing yawning prongs and refine,
A whim prominent people plea, in each Mosque, each shrine.
Our paradise home doomed, drinking thee blessings so little;
All pray the Lord to amplify ye like sabers to guard all tittle.
And bless each broken heart, distressed mind and faded soul,
The dreamt liberty. Our only odyssey and the ultimate goal.
Lo! Ye are the tongue to the oppressed, their shield, and tor,
Thy teaching for oneness never takes off defending any war.
Back heaven; if anybody inhales reliably or painlessly rests,
Ye are its reason, and, to our every elite ecstasy, the nucleus.
A life of comfort ye give up for us, ye are our solitary pride,
The cruelty and the filthy might in the grave will soon glide.
In the back can’t accumulate thine given happiness in a lake
You go away; such a way guarantees heaven for your sake.
My Kashmir, my heaven still not out of torture and turmoil,
Brother’s chopping on; sisters still prey to the smutty broil.
The chests gunned, graveyard’s ground getting abbreviated,
Tulips proscribed to blossom parents fear to see them dead.
Shame! On the tyrants for making a heaven a big war game.
This is the story of the bloodguilt land; Kashmir is its name.
Devoted to ye these verses with some gears amid stout tears,
Go maul them mutually and let fall the tyranny. I am all ears
To thy call, all soul, all mind, all me, all heart from its core,
To record a winning post slaying them and letting out a firm roar.
So the flowers who sacrificed their aroma beauty and charm,
Vexed even in the heavens, could get a soft and agile alarm,
That their blood yielded fruits, their pain blessed us to reign,
The heaven endlessly, to which they’re an artery and a vein.
Let’s rise, let’s cooperate and hand oppressors a big shame
Let’s gather them and their plans to set on a colossal flame.