Flight Of Fancy Poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'

When my Fancy like a lark high up flew,
India soon after my attention drew.
I saw her with my optimistic eye;
I tell you what I observed from on high.
I saw her beautiful and very fine,
A lovesome goddess distributing wine.
The goddess was piping a lovely song;
Her lovers were rapt in dainty ding-dong.
She looked very old and new both combined,
Stepping forward, although looking behind.
She walked very slow, but she was steady;
To kiss her feet every goal was ready.
She had a halo of that light in which
Hope found those who had fallen into ditch.
She gave the jerks, but they were not so oft;
They awakened those who were in sleep lost.
Her dress was white and green separated;
White was surging, though green dominated.
She drew favours from the Highest above;
She was what you call a symbol of love.
Some students unbridled hindered her way
With the aim of disturbing her array.
The goddess had spiritual power;
She mended them by shocks in her bower.
A giant of corruption raised his head,
And from up to down it was slowly led.
Finally, it came to strike the goddess,
But it was strangely reduced to ashes.
A famous evil nicknamed Poverty
Wanted to suck the blood of liberty.
It increased like bugs in the Summer time,
And Morality seemed quite sucked by crime.
These were the things the goddess herself learnt,
But she was silently bore their brunt.
She had a lot of gold in her pockets,
And had many jewels in her lockets.
Them she divided among the people,
And so they become prosperous ample.
I do not know how far this view is true;
The time itself in future will tell you.