(Translation:) My night is colored by the shade of your eyes You are Laila, you are a glimpse of heaven's prize When you dance – it’s the war of roses When you sway – it’s the hue of golden poses She spins, and the dust turns to saffron and smoke, Her dupatta – a flag that no empire broke. Each turn is a letter from the frontier’s lost throat, Each gesture a Pashto unwritten, remote.
(When you dance – it’s the war of roses When you sway – it’s the hue of golden poses Sister, dance your own rose with honor Pashtun freedom – the arrival of flowers...) pashto girls dance
Da Gulono Rasha (The Arrival of the Flowers) (Translation:) My night is colored by the shade
She holds the hem of her kameez like a letter, The pleats unfold tales that only hearts know better. Not a word from her lips – but her shoulder blade speaks Of mountains, of wars, of the peace that she seeks. Not a word from her lips – but
Kana che ta nachee – da rogano jang de Da khkulay ta nachee – da da zarghuno rang de Wrora de, khpala khkule ra da nango sara Da Pukhto nijat – da Gulona rasha...