World expected love from me,
In a way if I had to pay its debt!
Coins of my truthfulness
Were trampled in a manner
That if I had not held myself together!
We would have remained shelterless and
devoid of social clothings
I have lived in my house
And paid jiziya all my life
This poem was written by Parvin Shakir for her son Murad
(Translation by Raza Rumi)