(1)
The brand is that of Harnam Das, but the benefit goes to America
The fools are trying that the sun of America does not set.
The poor had tears in their eyes in the past, they are still in sorrow.
Birla is celebrating Diwali, but the oil burning in his lamp belongs to America.

All the oppressed of the world have discovered this secret,
That America has encamped under the shades of the wealthy.

America is just a broker, everybody knows this fact.
That’s why, O friend, I detest the name of America.

To live at the strength of others is not a manly thing.
We will recognise you Jalib, if you reject the obligation of America.

(2)
India belongs to me, and Pakistan too is mine.
But America has pitched its tent in both the countries.
While eating the wheat given in aid, we have been cheated.
Don’t ask us, how much we’ve praised America’s whims and vagaries.
Even then, this valley of flowers is surrounded by magazines.

India belongs to me, and Pakistan too is mine.

O Khan Bahadur, you must break ties with Englishmen.
Their hands have reached again up to our collars.
Macmillan could not be yours, how could you think that Kennedy is with you.

India belongs to me, and Pakistan too is mine.

This land, O dear friend, is the land of workers and peasants.
A few households won’t be allowed to rule this land.
How long will last the night of repression, the dawn is come.

India belongs to me, and Pakistan too is mine.
(Translated from the Urdu by: Arjumand Ara)