The Islamic Cities
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Translation
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