Moon at Half Past Noon

(Bol ke lab aazad hain tere)

Speak, your lips are unfettered.
Speak, your voice is still yours.
This lithe body is still yours.
Speak, you own your life still.
See, how in the blacksmith’s workshop –
The flame burns wild, the iron glows red,
The locks on cuffs open their jaws,
Unshackled, the chain breaks free.
Speak, this brief hour is long enough
Before the death of body and voice.
Speak, ’cause the truth is not dead yet,
Speak, speak, whatever you must speak!