Oh, the beautiful city of Kabul wears a rugged mountain skirt, And The rose is jealous of its lash-like thorns. The dust of Kabul's blowing soil smarts lightly in my eyes, But I love her, for knowledge and love both come from her dust.
I sing bright praises to her colourful tulips, The beauty of her trees makes me blush. How sparkling the water flows from Pul-i-Mastaan! May Allah protect such beauty from the evil eye of man!
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