khud ko khuda samajhate rahe the
jo aaj tak dagamaga rahe hai
sahaaro ke aas paas
tha kaam dil ka khelana
maujo ke jor se doobe hue hai aaj
kinaaron ke aas paas

kal khud hee pe naaj tha jinako
sikandar kee tarah
kal khud hee pe naaj tha jinako
sikandar kee tarah
aaj hai vo vaqt kee thokar mein patthar kee tarah
kal khud hee pe naaj tha jinako
sikandar kee tarah

khawaab mahalo ke saja sakata hai
jo raste pe ho
jinako mahalo ne ho thukaraaya
kaha jaayege vo
kis ne dekha hai vo bhala
es jindagee ke rang ko
kis ne samajha hai bhala
is beraham taqadeer ko
jinaka sar oocha raha
karata tha ambar kee tarah
aaj hai vo vaqt kee thokar mein patthar kee tarah
kal khud hee pe naaj tha jinako
sikandar kee tarah

jo chaman hansate the viraano ke
hasata hol par ro rahe hai
aaj vo anjaam apana dekh kar
jindagee ke aaeene mein
jab bhee dekhega koee
apane kee aabaal kee
tasveer aayegee najar
keematee the kal talak jo
laal gohar kee tarah
aaj hai vo vaqt kee thokar mein patthar kee tarah
kal khud hee pe naaj tha jinako
sikandar kee tarah

They, who once saw themselves as gods,
Now falter, unsure of their footing.
Clinging to shadows of what was,
The heart's game, once a carefree thing,
Now drowned by the waves' relentless force,
Near the shores they once scorned.

Yesterday, pride bloomed like Alexander's,
Yesterday, pride bloomed like Alexander's,
Today, they are stones, shattered by time's harsh blows,
Yesterday, pride bloomed like Alexander's.

He who could paint palaces in dreams,
Yet walks the lonely road,
Those rejected by the gilded halls,
Where will they go?
Who truly sees the hues of life?
Who understands fate's cruel design?
Their heads once touched the heavens,
Their pride reaching for the sky.
Today, they are stones, shattered by time's harsh blows,
Yesterday, pride bloomed like Alexander's.

Those who once laughed at desolation's face,
Now weep, seeing their own fate unfold,
In life's mirror, they gaze,
Reflecting the debris of their past,
A vision will emerge, of kin,
Once precious, like rubies,
Today, they are stones, shattered by time's harsh blows,
Yesterday, pride bloomed like Alexander's.