One who resides in desert waste,
Or person born on mountains steep
Can keep a watch on aims and ends
That Nature in its view does keep.
He draws no line 'twixt fair and foul
Of culture, whose spell makes you sleep
His Faqr possesses the wealth of kings,
Who coffers full of God do as keep.
O warbler of this earthly mead,
Why are your songs so sweet and fair
Wherefore, desert hawk, you own,
Such grandeur great and daring rare?
O Shaikh, no doubt, the climate of your school
Is so much pure and chaste
But men, like Salman and Farooq,
Are brought up in some desert waste.
The fire that Muslim Faith bestows
Is as sharp as the sword of steel,
But after thousand years is born
Its match, who mighty blows can deal.