Suddenly
A cold storm rose from the horizon
Of barren desert
And at the sunset
Amidst dark clouds
A strange rider
With black dress, on black horse
His iron mask had sketch of dragon
With lance and shield and lethal hunter
Came close to the gate of city

Strange rider
Red eyes
Rage brimming from his face
Strong and mighty, enraged and brutal
Came close to the gate of city

Girls and boys, and kids and elders
All gathered to see the stranger

The rider raised his lance and shouted
In voice so loud and sharp and scary

‘‘O the dwellers of this city… who am I?’’
I am Ego
The mightiest in the world
The great conqueror of all battles
From this moment, your city is mine
You are my subjects
The one who disobeys my orders
Will be killed with this lance
But the obedients will be safe
I will protect them
As their guardian’’

In this time, a grazing deer was passing by
Innocent, careless and angelic
The rider placed arrow in bow
And shot the deer right in its heart
The deer trembled in the dust…

(Ongoing) English translation of (part of) a Pashto poem by Dr Bahauddin Majrooh