When we've come from one parents,
Why are we seperated in the world,
Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and Christian,
But, we're human in one word.
Praise to Thee, O Creator of universe!
Thou the Master of both worlds,
Thou bestowed us tongue to converse,
But, to count Thy blessings I'm short by words.
The Birth Of A Poem
When I feel hard,
I hold my pen,
It runs soothily
Like the water in the river,
Or wind passes sweetly.
Words from heart
Come out through our lips,
By and by they collect,
On my notebook I see,
A poem is born.
Tears are hidden behind smile,
Among the thorns a laughing rose,
Or holy dew that exists for a while,
Like struggling stars our hopes in pathos,
But the thing that increases my pleasure,
The uncertainty and unknown treasure.
As you like it
The wind blows from the west,
And takes the clouds strongly away,
And causes in the sky unrest,
Kites are soaring where astray,
Its effects lies too on the land,
Under a tree I sit all day long,
Where leaves are lying on the sand,
I'm busy where composing my song.
The Clock Tower Of Bahraich
In the middle of the city,
There is a tall and lovely tower,
It has become our dignity,
Which would be sign of British power,
It's stood for a century and to witness,
The changing moods of the town,
Sometimes becomes political greatness,
And sometimes emerges with religious crown.
Those who are muslims just for name,
They really Islam defame,
No future they have nor any aim,
Like a candle without flame.
A true muslim is beneficial like a tree,
Who is blessing and symbolizes peace,
Invites to worship only one God, be free,
To believe not only words but deeds.
A free life sportive like a fawn,
Or a flying bird in the limitless sky,
Time is mine from dusk to dawn,
And know not how to be shy.
A weighty life full of duties,
Like a fruitful but an old tree,
That is aware of all beauties,
And becomes grave like the sea.
The Heart And Tongue
Why so much twist and proud,
Being a man of honour,
Forget not your own shroud,
That's lying in the corner,
Behave well as the heart,
Or the tongue so flexible,
Lean from them this art,
That immortalize us possible,
God Himself has given them no bone,
So harshness of them shouldn't be shown.
By- Mohammad Muzzammil Shah
The Girl In My Heart
Thou art good, has black hair,
Lips're rosy and skin fair,
Confidence resides inside of thee,
In short, you are the source of my glee,
Compassion along with beauty in thee lies,
The gift of love shines always in thy eyes.
O, the people of my time,
How can I pause that is prime?
It encourages me making her bride,
And then this storm will subside.