The translation of a song which was sung by the students of "Watan"
We give our lives
We as devotees have nothing but drops of blood
Which can be shed for you as devotees of you
Thus your burnt land becomes red
If for a moment we are not on alert
The monsters will grab this beloved land
We must not let the blood of so many martyrs
Go to waste so easily
United with the masses
Letís make an army of oppressed
So that we all become aware
And arise against the traitors
This nation never compromises or yields
It defeated the super power with staunchness
It goes against aliens
Inspired by this nation
Long live the homeland, salute to freedom
We vow Oh homeland
To sacrifice our soul and blood for you
The executioner cannot by sword or axe
Separate our path from yours.
Your plains and valleys
Red and fiery
As an iron fortress against your enemies
The Russians scorched you into fire and smoke
The fanatics intend to eliminate you.
We must liberate this beloved land
Sacrifice for her the men and women
From her Polygons comes the voice:
We died with our heads high
This is our message,
Victory to your path
Your struggle and war
And our avenge.
* - Polygons,
the execution grounds in Pul-e-Charkhi Prison, wherein thousands of patriots
were shot and many buried alive during the puppet regime of Russia. Tr.