The Poetic Notebook of Mullazade Zaigham of Laulab

(3)

Today that land of Kashmir, under the heels of the enemy, has become weak, helpless and poor Once known among the wise as Little Iran.

A cry of burning lament issues forth from the heavens, when the man of truth is overawed by the power and pomp of king and landlord.

The old farmer’s cottage, on the mountainside, where pain and grief ever rule— tells its sad story of Fate’s hard lot.

So skilful of hands, so rich in mind, these people, alas, or pure breed, O God, your justice, so long delayed, must come at last as a retribution

(4)

When the enslaved people’s rage boils and they rise in revolt against the master, this world of near and far, of colour and smell, becomes the scene of tremors and convulsions.

It purifies man’s conscience—eschewing all doubts and misgivings— When the lamp of high ideals is lit, brightening all paths leading to the goal.

There are old maladies and ancients scars the people suffer from, that intellect fails to cure and heal, but love shows its skill and without the help of physician’s talents removes all scars and cures all woes.

The master’s sturdy body—with a heart of stone and face of a mirror— gets soon smashed up and beaten down at the repeated blows of the weak slave