Address To The Muslim Youth
Woh Kya Gardoon Tha Tu Jis Ka Hai Ek Toota Huwa Tara
Have ever you pondered, O Muslim youth, On deep and serious things?
What is this world in which this you is only a broken star?
Kuchal Dala Tha Jis Ne Paon Mein Taj-e-Sar-e-Dara
You came of a stock that nourishes you In the close embracing of love,
A stock that trampled under foot Dara who wore the crown.
Tamaddun Afreen, Khallaq-e-Aaeen-e-Jahandari
Woh Sehra-e-Arab Yani Shutar-Banon Ka Gehwara
Civilization’s grace they forged to a world‐disposing law,
Those folks that came from the Arab sands that cradled their camel‐men.
‘Baab-o-Rang-o-Khal-o-Khat Che Hajat Rooye Zaibara’
The simple life was the pride they had in their deeds of glorious show.
How does the lovely face feel need of rouge and mole and art?
Ke Mun’em Ko Gada Ke Dar Se Bakhshish Ka Na Tha Yara
In pure plain life and in fear of God they lived their modest way.
The rich man stood in no fear of the poor that he gives his wealth in fee.
Jahangeer-o-Jahan Dar-o-Jahan Baan-o-Jahan Aara
In short, in words can I tell to you what were these desert men?
Holders, Keepers, Saviours, Adorners of what we call the world.
Magar Tere Takhiyyul Se Se Fazoon Tar Hai Woh Nazara
If I should draw the sketch aright limning the form in words,
The vision I’d draw would be better far than all your fancy paints.
Ke Tu Guftar Woh Kirdar, Tu Sabit Woh Sayyara
There is no standard by which to judge Yours and your father’s worth.
You utter words but they did deeds. They roamed: you stay at home.
Surreya Se Zameen Par Asman Ne Hum Ko De Mara
We have despoiled the inheritance that we from our fathers won.
The heaven from the zenith has dashed it down
Nahin Dunya Ke Aaeen-e-Musallam Se Koi Chara
And cast it on the ground. what is this weeping at ordered things
That it is the affair of a day? Except the help of all‐certain law
Jo Dekhain In Ko Yourap Mein Tou Dil Hota Hai Seepara
The world has no other plan. but if those pearls of learning’s lore,
Those books our fathers wrote we see in Europe made scholar’s joy, The heart is rent with grief.
Ke Noor-e-Didah Ash Roshan Kunan Chashm-e-Zulekhara”
O Ghani*, behold the darkened day Kinan’s old man once knew,
That the light of his eyes to Zuleikha’s eyes might bring the brightness of sight.
* Ghani Kahsmiri was a poet