It is long since the cry of Mansoor has dimmed,

I have brought glory to the gallows anew,

For time immemorial throughout the ages

We have drunk poison

We have sung our songs.

We bleed on the altar of life, We barter away everything For love’s ecstasy,

Proud of our poverty

We walk our chosen way.

The rich stare at us, amazed,

But we are indifferent to their taunts.

Their hatred cannot harm us. Truth is our talisman. We endure.

We weep for those

Who have no more tears to shed,

For the destitute, the forlorn. And for them we endure

The courtier’s rack, the hangman’s rope.

We are the bloodstained mirror.

Of a bloodstained world Humanity’s eternal suffering heart,

We are the undaunted warriors The riders of dawn Keen sensibility.

Article extracted from this publication >> December 19, 1986