Mitti Ki Halchal (Stir of the Soil)

Waking no nested bird nor slumbering child

This Rock whirled amidst the stars

Is a story of all stories, spicy and gold

Sweetest to lovers the last time it is told

It is a song of the Morning Breeze at midnight hours

Causing the dirt to feel this stir of might

An instinct within that reaches and towers

Climbing toward heaven’s immeasurable height

Ascending to a soul in grass and flowers

Grasping above gently, blindly for the light

It’s from الله