We’ve left our homes for good and all. God’s on our side, one won’t harm us. We’re sons of yours, our dads and moms, But we’re unruly, prodigal sons. On your old track, we’ve done our stint, It makes no sense to wait for us - We won’t come back under your wings, Nor sorry be about the past. A lie is your eternal warmth! A lie is your uncurved life course! Corrupted are your hearts and souls! We lack for no one thing of yours! Don’t tell us of good and bad, All the bonds have been torn off: Now a mom hasn’t her fat lad, Nor has his little one a dad, There are no your state and law. How many townships have been trashed, How many lives have been broken off With the assist of yours, our dads, Who taught us not to break God’s words, While, at odd moments, ye groped girls And, at the trials, did your jousts - Your rotten morality and codes We’ve shaken from off our feet as dust! God damn your compositions and films! God damn the things ye immolate! God damn what on your conscience is! All your god-awful tales we hate! Squeeze out money in a rage, But without us ye’re obliged To perform your buys and sales: Know that we feel a distaste Even when ye take a delight! Our home stands ’mongst the o’ergrown grounds, The sky’s its roof, the trees are walls. ’Mongst people, we’re said to be outcasts, Strange aliens from the other worlds. We’ll rather go with lack of food, Without confession, draw the last breath, Than breathe in the same air with you, Collect what ye count to be wealth. Get lost with your red-letter days! Get lost with your auspicious marks! We ought to find unbeaten ways For our posterity and us! The soothsayers and foreseers Said that we’ll come to a pickle. Well, in the junkyard we’ve lived, And with all our knack of it Put a spoke in Fortune’s wheel. So, friend, lay for us thy course, Don’t pin hopes on later on! Cast off the eternal curse, Thou’lt find here thy own bros, We’ll take thee with heart and soul!
© Akbar Muhammad. Translation, 2017
(akbarmuhammad.awardspace.co.uk)