Azadi? 

It is time again

When sons die

And Mothers cry.

When dead leaves grow,

When black and white of History books

sings in the tune of newspapers,

When bloody eyes stare at the Khwabgah,

And hunger replaces sleep,

Bars replaces degrees.

It is that time

When Sons die

And Mothers cry.

A War

On the Inside

On the Outside.

It is the Time

When Sons die

and Mothers cry.