Best Poem of Habib Jalib

To Rakhshinda Zoya
She cannot say it, but then
My little one manages to say
Father, come home
Father, come home
She cannot comprehend
Why, in prison, I continue to stay
And not return with her, hand in hand
How should I explain to her
That home, too, is like a prison
Kot Lakhpat Jail

Not: written in 13 . . .
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God Is Ours
God is not yours, to Him we have access
He does not look kindly on those who oppress

How long, you men of pelf, will you bleed us white
Get off our backs, you who in filthy lucre take delight
You satans it is dust that you will soon bite
We believe that He treats mankind with loving tenderness
He does . . .
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