A Cry From Kabul

(Written During The American Attacks On Afghanistan From The Arabian Sea) O! The heartless callous warriors, The children of the crowning age, You do not see the havoc, For you stand at the distant spot, More than two thousand miles away, Planning against the weaponless; But your lacerating missiles and shells, Miss not the targets, They hail down on us smashing, Blowing up the houses, And thatched cottages with their contents, Let, allow me bury, put in the ground, My infant grandson that lay motionless, In the cradle, all shredded, torn up, Still gripping tight in his hand, A baby doll with blue eyes and rosy cheeks, Sprinkled with blood too.