They were called by the great Khan Changez,
And they said, ' Are there greater Khans than ourselves? '
They were told that there would be Nabobs,
‘Could you make us all Nabobs.'
The tongue twists, swallows the keys to heavens,
You can only write the wildest imagined voluptuousness,
And a refinery, that makes petty jargon ridiculous,
Clichéd ideologies worthless, and hell, an intoxicating,
Abode of beauty, freedom and expression.
-After writing a few verses in Pashto
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
June 21,2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem