From the master I learned, who from
The one who gave his head for the hunt –
To thee impart, illustrious sons of soil
Not less than a troph, cross over the torrent.
Faster the step, destiny is not far,
O the dawn is at hand, we shall see
The beloved’s face like the rising sun.
Sadiqullah Khan
Gilgit
August 28,2015.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem