Black robed, bare-footed, with dim eyes that rain
Wild tears in memory of thy woeful plight.
And hands that in blind, rhythmic anguish smite
Their blood-stained bosoms, to a sad refrain
From the old haunting Legend of thy pain,
Thy votaries mourn thee thro’ the tragic night
With mystic dirge and melancholy rite
Crying to thee Husain! Ya Husain!
Why do thy myriad lovers so lament?
Sweet saint, is not thy matchless martyr hood
The living banner and brave covenant
Of the high creed thy Prophet did proclaim
Bequeathing for the world’s beatitude
Th’ enduring loveliness of Allah’s name!
Wild tears in memory of thy woeful plight.
And hands that in blind, rhythmic anguish smite
Their blood-stained bosoms, to a sad refrain
From the old haunting Legend of thy pain,
Thy votaries mourn thee thro’ the tragic night
With mystic dirge and melancholy rite
Crying to thee Husain! Ya Husain!
Why do thy myriad lovers so lament?
Sweet saint, is not thy matchless martyr hood
The living banner and brave covenant
Of the high creed thy Prophet did proclaim
Bequeathing for the world’s beatitude
Th’ enduring loveliness of Allah’s name!
Mrs. Sarojini Naido. (M.R.)
(Indian Freedom Fighter)
(The Nightingale of India)
(Indian Freedom Fighter)
(The Nightingale of India)
posted by: zaigham murtaza
No comments:
Post a Comment