The tears I shed for you today, my friend, are the pristine droplets of a fount springing from the innermost concealed source in the heart . I had the fortune to see you, and know your story. See you when you were young, fearless, rising to the blue sky to reach out to a dream. I witnessed that smooth ascent.
The dream that was not for yourself, it was for others, the most wretched, deprived, humiliated people of your land.
Jin ki pug zoorwalun key pairun taley dhajjian hugai. Aik angusht patwar ney kat li, dosri maliey key bahaney sey sarkar ney kat li. Jis key dhorun ko zalim hanka ley gayey. Jis ki baiti ko daku utha ley gayey .
For them, a youth like you, who could have won all the luxuries of life for himself so easily, chose to sleep on rough stones under the cold open sky on mountains and live like a shepherd, transformed into Chakar Khan, your very young life in danger of being snuffed out any time.
Our land and its miserable people have all the reasons in the world to be proud of you. They gave birth to such sons as you. You were a revolutionary in the land that cries for a revolution. Poets have celebrated you and singers set your life to music everywhere , in every age.
Take with you these warm, fresh tears, Asad Rahman, from a scribbler of verses in your land, tears of love and pride and also amazement that individuals like you are not a figment of the imagination, but real, of flesh and blood. They are always real, the revolutionaries.
The humiliating reality of helplessness is turned by you into something beautiful and brilliant. In all such places in our world, in Asia and Africa, and Latin America, where the rich and the powerful loathsome classes have kept the people enchained, deprived ,disgraced, people will never cease to love you, because you are what the heart always desired.