One is obliged to the British, the other is a slave of dollars. <br />Their heartbeats are in chains, but the name of liberty on their lips. <br />How could they know, how do the people live? <br />These honourable ministers. <br /> <br />They have leisure time, but only for the high and wealthy. <br />Their telephones are installed, but only for diplomats. <br />Why would they have time for us, beggars. <br />We can’t touch them, they are placed high. <br />These honourable ministers. <br /> <br />They are here for morning tea, invited there for dinner, <br />Why won’t they be arrogant? Their shops are flourishing. <br />As they wish, they can issue statements on radio. <br />We are on foot, they in cars, how could they talk to us? <br />These honourable ministers. <br /> <br />They even die in the Assembly, for the sake of nation, <br />They impose their will, by their muscle-power. <br />They hurl abuses and bear abuses as well, <br />They are the glory of the nation, pay respects to them. <br />These honourable ministers. <br /> <br />Ministry is their love, chairs are their keeps. <br />Let their lives be snatched away but not their chairs. <br />Let us see how long they will fling the chairs. <br />Their rule is transitory, their stay passing. <br />These honourable ministers. <br /> <br /> <br />(Translated from the Urdu by: Arjumand Ara)<br /><br />Habib Jalib<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/these-honourable-ministers/
