O Quaid-e-Azam! O companion of the night of slavery with the light of the dawn of freedom
O you who fight against religion by making the scattered nation a base
O you who give the message of dawn to the night owls
O you who change the map of the earth and raise the sun of a new kingdom
O you who grow flowers in barren lands and perfume with these flowers
Leader, get up
And see the fate of your Pakistan
The Pakistan which you made the home of springs with your blood and liver is being destroyed by the cruel hand of autumn.
The Pakistan that was the interpretation of Iqbal’s dreams and the fruit of your efforts
You have fallen victim to the conspiracies of your incompetent children.
Pakistan, which was the largest Islamic empire in the world, has lost one of its arms and lost its power of revelation.
The Pakistan that used to ring the bell in the four corners of the world is now crying out for help.
O Quaid-e-Azam, get up and see
Power hungry bathers, how are you busy picking the spices of your beloved country?
How ruthlessly these bloodthirsty whales are fighting for their bellies.
See how the unity of the nation is being torn apart.
How the fire of prejudice is being kindled.
What horrible conspiracies are being hatched to make the curse of provincialism a necklace around the neck of the nation.
O leader, get up from the grave and look
For the purpose for which Pakistan was created, how is the knife being used on its throat?
How the butchers are slaughtering it by reciting takbeers.
On the one hand, his slogans are being chanted and on the other hand, all his values are being erased.
On the one hand, his name is Vard-e-Zaban, and on the other hand, he has a dagger in his vein.
O Quaid-e-Azam, look!
Those who are indifferent to the ghazi and character of speech in your country, who are making tricks and tricks.
O leader, that command of yours, faith, unity and organization have disappeared in the blur of the past.
I am Mirza Fayyaz Ahmed, the bubble of this flower, so I am listening to your message to this nation.
Maybe my words will sink into your heart
In this country, artists like Sahir Lodhi play with your name because their thinking is hypocritical, their society is Hindu, their culture is foreign, their politics is infidel.