Punjab Ke Peerzadon Se
To The Punjab Pirs
Woh Khak Ke Hai Zair-e-Falak Matla-e-Anwar
I stood by the Reformerʹs tomb: that dust
Whence here below an orient splendor breaks,
Iss Khak Main Poshida Hai Woh Sahib-e-Asrar
Dust before whose least speck stars hang their heads,
Dust shrouding that high knower of things unknown
Jis Ke Nafs-e-Garam Se Hai Garmi-e-Arhar
Who to Jahangir would not bend his neck,
Whose ardent breath fans every free heartʹs ardour,
Allah Ne Barwaqt Kiya Jis Ko Khabardar
Whom Allah sent in season to keep watch
In India on the treasure‐house of Islam.
Ankhain Meri Beena Hain, Walekin Nahi Baidar!
I craved the saintsʹ gift, other‐worldliness
For my eyes saw, yet dimly. Answer came:
Hain Ahl-e-Nazar Kishwar-e-Punjab Se Bezar
“Closed is the long roll of the saints; this Land
Of the Five Rivers stinks in good menʹs nostrils.
Paida Kulah-e-Faqr Se Ho Turra-e-Dastar
Godʹs people have no portion in that country
Where lordly tassel sprouts from monkish cap;
Turron Ne Charhaya Nasha-e-‘Khidmat-e-Sarkar’!
That cap bred passionate faith, this tassel breeds
Passion for playing pander to Government.”