The East

THE EAST

By strains I sing at early morn,
The vest of tulip has, been torn.
Breeze has been roaming since the dark,
But has not found a single park..

In Raza Shah or Mustafa Kamal,
No trace of it is found at all.
East's soul is seeking body sound,
But such a body has not found.

My Self deserves correction dire
To set it right and sound entire
The world harbours this evil hope,
To hang me seeks a plank and rope.