"A Pashtun Warrior's Farewell"

Beloved, on a parchment white
With my heart's blood to thee I write;
My pen a dagger, sharp and clean,
Inlaid with golden damascene,
Which I have used, and not in vain,
To keep my honour free from stain.

Now, when our house it's mourning wears,
Do not thyself give way to tears:
Instruct or eldest son that I
Was ever anxious thus to die,
For when death comes the brave are free-
So in thy dreams remember me.

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Forget safety.Live where you fear to live.Destroy your reputation.Be notorious