Aaj aakhaN Waris Shah nuuN
aaj aakhaN Waris Shah nuuN, kitoN kabraaN vichchoN bol,
te aaj kitab-e ishq daa koii aglaa varkaa phol
ik roii sii dhii punjaab dii, tuuN likh likh maare vaen,
aaj lakhaaN dhiiaaN rondiaa, tainuN waris shah nuN kahen
uTh dardmandaaN diaa dardiaa, uth takk apnaa Punjaab
aaj bele lashaaN bichhiaaN te lahu dii bharii chenab
kise ne panjaN paniaN vichch dittii zahar ralaa
te unhaaN paniiaaN dharat nuuN dittaa paanii laa
is zarkhez zamiin de luun luun phuttia zaher
gitth gitth charhiaaN laaliaN fuuT fuuT charhiaa kaher
veh valliissii vha pher, van van vaggii jaa,
ohne har ik vans di vanjhalii ditti naag banaa
pehlaa dang madaariaN, mantar gaye guaach,
dooje dang di lagg gayii, jane khane nuN laag
laagaaN kiile lok muNh, bus phir dang hi dang,
palo palii punjaab de, neele pae gaye ang
gale`oN tutt`e geet phir, takaleon tuttii tand,
trinjanoN tuttiaaN saheliaaN, chaRakhRre ghuukar band
sane sej de beriaaN, luddaN dittiaaN rohr,
sane daliaan peengh aj, piplaaN dittii toR
jitthe vajdii sii phuuk pyaar dii, ve oh vanjhalii gayii guaach
raanjhe de sab veer aaj, bhul gaye uhadii jaach
dhartii te lahoo varsiyaa, kabraaN paiaaN choan,
preet diaaN shaahzaadiaaN, aaj vichch mazaaraaN roan
aaj sabbhe `Qaido` ban gaye, husn ishq de chor
aaj kitthoN liaaiye labbh ke waris shah ik hor
aaj aakhaN waris shah nuuN, kitoN kabraan vichchoN bol,
te aaj kitaab-e ishq daa, koii aglaa varkaa phol
Translation
Today, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave”
And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate page
Once, one daughter of Punjab cried; you wrote a wailing saga
Today, a million daughters, cry to you, Waris Shah
Rise! O’ narrator of the grieving; rise! look at your Punjab
Today, fields are lined with corpses, and blood fills the Chenab
Someone has mixed poison in the five rivers’ flow
Their deadly water is, now, irrigating our lands galore
This fertile land is sprouting, venom from every pore
The sky is turning red from endless cries of gore
The toxic forest wind, screams from inside its wake
Turning each flute’s bamboo-shoot, into a deadly snake
With the first snake-bite; charmers lost their spell
The second bite turned all and sundry, into snakes, as well
Drinking from this deadly stream, filling the land with bane
Slowly, Punjab’s limbs have turned black and blue, with pain
The street-songs have been silenced; cotton threads are snapped
Girls have left their playgroups; the spinning wheels are cracked
Our wedding beds are boats, their logs have cast away
Our hanging swing, the Pipal tree has broken in disarray
Lost is the flute, which once, blew sounds of the heart
Ranjha’s brothers, today, no longer know this art
Blood rained on our shrines; drenching them to the core
Damsels of amour, today, sit crying at their door
Today everyone is, ‘Qaido;’ thieves of beauty and ardor
Where can we find, today, another Warish Shah, once more
Today, I call Waris Shah, “Speak from inside your grave”
And turn, today, the book of love’s next affectionate page.
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