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 Hijaz

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 Cordoba 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-Baida 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 Europe’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