Khwabon Ka Bagh

To bloom, light is necessary

But a seed asks for darkness

Within the darkness of soil,

It is the dream that rises first

Look, this is the time of the spring breeze

It is the center of passions and hopes

Every bud is beginning to bloom

See how the gardens are getting ready

We are the dyers, and we ourselves are the flowers

We must fill the colors, and we must scatter too

Those whose breaths carry the spirit of spring,

It is by their hands that the garden must be adorned

Our gardens have grown weary

Even the setting sun’s light feels lonely

If we forget to water the vase,

Only lifeless harvests remain

When we sit beneath shade after tiring

May we find a companion when pain arrives

The quiet conversations from the heart

Were the relationships that truly understood

In the turning of time, flowers will bloom again

After every decline, rise always comes

Even if this garden of dreams keeps burning,

From ashes too, a new revolution is born