roz khuun hote hain do-char tire kuche men
ek hangama hai ai yaar tire kuche men
every day, some in your street are slain
my love, a furor now infests your lane
farsh-e-rah hain jo dil-afgar tire kuche men
khaak ho raunaq-e-gulzar tire kuche men
with bloodied hearts your street is littered now
your street can never have the garden’s glow
sarfarosh aate hain ai yaar tire kuche men
garm hai maut ka bazar tire kuche men
as ardent martyrs, in your street arrive
death’s marketplace begins to hum and thrive
sher bas ab na kahunga ki koi padhta tha
apne haali mire ashar tire kuche men
I’ll speak no more, as someone does repeat
as if his own, my verses, in your street
na mila ham ko kabhi teri gali men aram
na hua ham pe juz azar tire kuche men
no comfort in your street I ever found
save torture nothing else was all around
malak-ul-maut ke ghar ka tha irada apna
le gaya shauq-e-ghalat-kar tire kuche men
to go to death’s abode resolved, in vain,
but wayward wishes led me to your lane
tu hai aur ghair ke ghar jalva-tarazi ki havas
ham hain aur hasrat-e-didar tire kuche men
at my rival’s home you preen and prance
whilst in your lane I yearn for just a glance
ham bhi varasta-mizaji ke hain apni qaail
khuld men ruuh tan-e-zar tire kuche men
my love of freedom will ever remain
my soul in heaven, body in your lane
kya tajahul se ye kahta hai kahan rahte ho
tire kuche men sitamgar tire kuche men
of my address such ignorance you feign
tis in your lane, O tyrant, in your lane
‘shefta’ ek na aaya to na aaya kya hai
roz aa rahte hain do-char tire kuche men
what matters if just Sheftaa stays away?
as several come, dwell in your lane each day
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