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The Islamic Cities


The region of Delhi is adored by my grieved heart
In every speck of it the ancestors blood is asleep

Why should not the land of this desolate garden be holy?
This region is the shrine of the grandeur of Islam

Kings of the Khair al-Umam are asleep in this land
Dependent on whose rule remained the world order

Memory of assembly’s  warmth still renders the heart restless
The splendor has been burnt but memory of the splendor is still secure

Though  Jahanabad also is a shrine for the Muslim
Baghdad  as well is deserving of this magnificence

This  is the garden the source of whose pride was
The  wild tulip which was called  the culture of aijaz

Why should not the dust of this  habitation be equivalent to Iram
Which witnessed the footsteps of the Prophet’s  successors

The garden whose flower buds were the garden’s  wealth is this
The grave yard of those who made Rome tremble is this

The land  of Qurtubah also is the light of the Muslim’s eye
Which shined in Europe’s darkness like the candle of Tur

Extinguishing of this lamp  dispersed the assembly of Millat-i-Baiza
And lighted the lamp of the present day’s  materialistic civilization

This holy region is the grave of that civilization
With which the life blood still exists in the veins of Europ’s vines

The tract of Constantinople, that is the Caesar’s city
The perpetual banner of the grandeur of the Ummah’s Mahdi

Like the Haram’s dust this region is also holy
It is the shrine of descendants of Shah-i-Lawlak

Its breeze is holy like the fragrance of rose
A voice is calling from the tomb of Ayyub Ansari

O Muslim! this city is the heart of the Nation of Islam !
This city is the reward for millenniums of blood sacrifices!

But you are that land, O the resting place of Mustafa
Even to the Ka`bah  whose sight is better than Hajj-i-Akbar

In the world’s  ring you are shining like a gem
Your land was the birth place of our grandeur

That Magnificent Emperor got rest in your midst
Under whose protection the world nations got  security

Whose successors became rulers of world’s empires
Became successors of Caesar, inheritors of Jam’s  throne

If the Muslim nationalism is restricted to place
Neither India nor Persia nor Syria is its base

Ah Yathrib!  You are the Muslim’s  homeland and his shelter
You are the focal point of the rays of his inner feelings


As long as you exist, we will  also flourish in the world
You are the morning of this garden we are the dew’s pearls

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