Translated by Dr Nazeer Ahmed
1.
Should I be oblivious of loss, unmindful of benefits?
Reflecting about the morrow, steeped in sorrows of yesterday?
Hear with rapture the soulful melodies of the nightingale,
As a companion, yet remain a silent flower?
Courageous is my tongue,
A lament before Allah, humbled be my tongue.
2.
Well-known are we for our reverence, true,
Helpless we are, we sing our blues.
Supplicants, instruments silent,
Hemmed in, melodies of pain pouring forth from our lips.
O our Sustainer! Listen to the lament of a people, faithful,
A lament from those who extoll thy Name.
3.
Indeed, your Essence was there from eternity,
The flower adorned the garden, but there was no breeze;
Is it not a requirement of fairness, O Owner of all subtleties!
How can the fragrance of the flower spread without the breeze?
The hardships were a source of our tranquility,
Or else, was the Ummah of your Beloved afflicted by madness?
4.
Strange was the vista of the world before we arrived,
Bowed to were stones in places, trees worshipped in others;
Limited was the vision of man to what he could see,
Who, then, would accept the God unseen?
You know if anyone ever called your Name,
Your task, Muslim sinews did complete.
5.
There lived in this domain the Seljuks and Turans,
The Chinese in China, the Persians in Persia,
The Greeks, resident in their abode.
There were Jews in this world, Christians as well.
But who raised their arms in your Name?
Who set aright a matter gone awry?
6.
We alone stood in your battle fields,
In combat, sometimes on land, sometimes at sea;
Called for prayer, sometimes in the cathedrals of Europe,
At other times, in the sizzling deserts of Africa.
The grandeur of the mighty impressed us not,
In the shadow of swords did we recite the Kalima.
7.
If we lived, we lived for the trials of battle,
If we died, we died to uphold the greatness of your Name.
Not for power did we unsheathe our swords,
Would we roam the world for power, our burial shrouds wrapped around our heads?
If our Ummah were to die for the riches of the world,
Why would it shatter the idols, not engage in their trade?
8.
We relented not when we stood in battle,
While the feet of lions were swept away from the battle field,
We opposed when anyone rose up against You,
Why speak of swords, we faced the cannons head-on.
We bonded the imprint of Tawhid on every heart,
Transmitted this message even in the shadows of the sword.
9.
Hearken! who broke down the doorway to Khaiber,
Who conquered the city of Ceasar,
Who smashed the idols wrought by human hand,
Slayed swarms of hosts without faith.
Who quenched the fiery urns of Iran,
And resurrected the remembrance of Yazdan.
10.
Which nation sought only You,
And endured the travails of battle only for You.
Whose conquering sword was it that held the world at bay,
Whose Takbir was it that awakened your world?
Whose awe was it that kept the idols subdued,
Made them prostrate, faces down, saying, Hu Allahu Ahad.
11
When it was time for prayer in the midst of battle,
Prostrated the nation of Hijaz facing the Qibla,
The master and the slave in the same row,
There was no supplicant and no benefactor,
The supplicant, the poor and the rich, undifferentiated,
When they arrived in your domain, equal were they all.
12
Day and night we traversed the stations of the world,
Carrying the elixir of Tawhid, like goblets,
Traversed mountains and forests with your message,
And You know we never returned unsuccessful.
Let alone the deserts, we did not shun the oceans,
Rode our horses into the dark waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
We erased the pages of darkness from the canvas of time,
We saved humankind from servitude,
We touched your Ka’aba with our foreheads,
We placed your Qur’an on our breasts,
Even so, is there a complaint that we are not faithful?
If we are not faithful, then you are not generous either.
14
There are other Ummahs, wrong-doers among them,
Some are humble, some drunk with arrogance.
Among lazy, heedless and smart,
Millions more are averse to your very Name.
Yet, your bounties are showered on the roofs of others,
When a lightning hits, it is on the hapless Muslims.
It is said in the abodes of idols that the Muslims have departed,
Happy they are that the keepers of the Ka’aba have departed,
Gone are hymn chanting camel riders,
Carrying the Qur’an in their arm-pits.
The disbelievers make fun, You know it or not,
The value of your Tawhid, you keep it or not.
- I lament not that that the treasuries are full for those
Who do not even have the grace to speak in a refined gathering,
The burnish is that the disbeliever receives wealth and maidens beautiful,
While the hapless Muslims only a promise of Hurs,
Gone are those subtleties, those favors,
Gone is that indulgence, it is true.
17
Why are the Muslims bereft of wealth in the world
Even though Your divine power is boundless and uncountable?
If You so wish, fountains can emerge from the womb of deserts,
And a traveler walking through a green forest will see a mirage.
We face taunts of strangers, ill-repute, destitution,
Is that the recompense for those who give their lives for your Name?
18.
The world, ah! it loves the strangers,
Ah! The world, a mere imagination for us.
We walked away and strangers took control,
Let us not bemoan that the world became bereft of Tawhid.
We survive so that your Name is alive in the world,
How can it be that the wine is there but not the wine-bearer?
Gone is your assemblage and gone are your lovers,
Gone are the sighs of the evening and the dolorous songs of the mornings,
They gave their hearts to you and received their recompense,
Hardly were they seated up front, they were ejected.
They came as lovers, left with a promise of Farda,
Go search for them now with the lamp of beauty of your existence.
The pain of Laila is the same, so is the embrace of Qais,
In the valleys and mountains of Najd, the leap of gazelle is the same,
The heart of love is the same, so is the enchantment of beauty,
The Ummah of Ahmed e Musal is the same, You are the same.
21.
Did we abandon you, or the Rasool e Arabi?
Did we take up idol worship, forsaking idol breaking?
Did we abandon love or the rapture of love,
The ways of Salman and Uwaisi?
The fire of Takbir we conceal in our breasts,
The life of Bilal e Habsha our prototype.
22
Let it be that the ways of love of yesteryear have disappeared,
Let it be that the path of submission and acceptance has disappeared,
The unsettled heart may not show the direction of the Qibla,
And may not follow the rules of fidelity.
Yet how can it be that your friendship is sometimes with us, sometimes with others,
It is not something to be uttered: Faithless Thou are, too?
You perfected the Deen on the peak of Faran,
Countless hearts you captured with a single sign,
Made the lover’s heart a substance that burns,
Set the world on fire with your flaming beauty.
Why are our hearts not filled with that flame?
Do you not remember that we are still the lovers. willing to burn?
24.
No longer is there the clanging of chains in the valley of Najd,
No longer is Qais mad to witness the birth of the camel.
Gone is the will, absent we are, absent is the heart,
This house is desolate, Your luminescence not there to light up the gathering,
When will that happy day arrive, bringing a thousand blessings in its train?
When you turn towards my abode in magnificence unmasked?
Drinking wine are strangers, seated by river side in the garden,
Savoring wine, hearing the Coo of the cuckoo.
Away from the tumult of the garden, in a corner,
Are seated your lovers waiting for a breath of Hu,
Foster in your moths that passion for embracing the flame,
Command your pristine lightning to light up their hearts.
26.
The wayward tribe seeks to turn its bridles towards Hijaz,
Taken aloft is the wingless nightingale with the yearning of flight.
Restless is every branch of the garden with signs of yearning,
Just pluck the strings, thirsting to be plucked is the lute.
Restless is the music to emanate from the strings,
Restless is the mount of Sinai to burn in the fire.
O God! Lighten the travails of a Ummah in death throes,
A little ant, the equal of Solomon
Awaken once again that rare Essence of your Love,
Bring the temple squatters of Hind towards Islam, true.
Relentless are the desires of our hearts in draining our blood,
With the pain of a thousand daggers do our breasts cry.
The fragrance of flowers took the secret of the garden into distant grounds,
A calamity that the flowers themselves arae traitors for the garden.
The season of flowers has ended, broken is the lute of the garden,
The chirping birds have flown away from the branches,
Save a lonely nightingale enraptured with music
Whose heart is as yet dancing with rhyme.
29
The birds have left the branches of the cypress tree,
Scattered are the petals of withered flowers.
Abandoned are the pathways of the garden, old,
Branches naked, stripped of their garb of green.
Unshackled remained the nightingale from shackles of changing seasons,
Would that someone in the garden understood its lament!
30.
No more is there a joy in dying or living,
If there be any joy, it is in bearing the sorrow.
How restless are the treasures in the mirror of my heart,
How the visions are dancing in my soul.
Alas! this garden has none who can see,
Tulips with breasts marked by the dot of sorrow, there are none.
31
May the doleful song of this lonely nightingale awaken hearts,
May the hearts of those awakened be aroused by this marching bell,
Let the deadened hearts be reborn with this new oath of fidelity,
Let their souls be thirsty for that old wine, cured,
Does it matter if the container is Ajami, my elixir is Hijazi?
Does it matter if the song is Hindi, my melody is Hijazi?