As prickly thorns with roses sprout,
And rugged shrubs with fern.
So does with virtue vice stems out,
One needs with care discern.
The glistening, sweet, refreshing dew,
On grassy meadows welcome you!
Its lucent beads perfume your way,
The whiff that blooms and grass betray! Continue reading “To My Wife” »
O, life tone down thy cruelty,
I’ve gambled all I owned.
Yet know not whether I’ve conquered thee,
Or you’re still far, far beyond.
The timeless moon is colourless,
its soil is pale and gray;
Like unlit pavements in the night,
where life and light don’t stray.
Bulges, bumps and craters mar,
its surface all around.
And patches dark despoil its face,
to its gazer’s grief profound. Continue reading “The Moon” »
(An English translation of the famous Urdu poet Sir Mohammed Iqbal’s well known
Translated by Dr. Syed Sarwar Hussain
O Himalaya! thou fortress of sovereign Hindoostan!
Heavens above doth bow down, to kiss thy brow’s span.
Not a single sign of ageing doth, thy massive frame betray;
Thou stayeth young amidst, the swiveling night and day.
God’s glorious light caught Moses’ eyes, alone on Mount Sinai;
But thy manifestation absolute, draws each discerning eye.
To the lure of wand’ring gaze thou art, no more than a mountain chain;
Whereas to us, our mighty guard, the wall of Hindoostan.
Continue reading “Himalaya” »
When maddening voices fade away,
and silence deep prevails;
When deafening buzz of fretful day,
is hushed by the darkling vales. Continue reading “Gloom And Grace” »
You do not listen,
All you hear!
When tongues blurt out,
When talkers are a bore,
Absolute and sheer!
When words weave tangles,
You cannot clear!
When speakers thoughts,
Smudge yours and smear!
When voices deafen you,
As they hit your ear!
Shambles, shambles, all they speak,
Shards and blizzards, all they blare!
O where do the clouds float out,
From where the rain bursts down?
The cloud descends into my heart,
And the rain pours down form my eyes.
The tedious humdrum of the tutor’s voice,
Is no classroom victim’s personal choice.
It stings his defenceless, unwilling ears,
And he listens naught what he sourly hears.
Like thorny growth of wild plum-trees,
Words their tangled thickets weave.
And the baffled hapless boy in class,
Is unwarily caught in the piling mass.
And deafened by the teacher’s garbled blare,
He plods homeward like an image in despair.