Lost Cities Of Indus Vale Poem by Sabahat Batool

Lost Cities Of Indus Vale

I hail thee gems of Indus Vale!
With scented rhyme, with scented gale
Come on from world of mortal dead!
O come and lively wind inhale!
More ancient than the pyramids
That rule on ancient Egypt land

Thy wild wild eyes, with thy soft lids
They gazed on shimmering Indus sand
I will inhale thy breath in breath
O harken me from vale of death

I mount uphill, Thy citadel
And stood for hours Stony still
I saw minarets there in row
They fail and bow, all in thy woe
O stupa speak! from yonder peak!
Thy all worshippers where they go
In fog, in sun, while needles run
Thou standing lone in midst of woe!
I haven't seen a single soul
They faded all in mist and snow
Oh lonesome temple don't be sad
They will come and I vow they will

In evening smiles, my heart beguiles
Thy silver meads lay several miles
Thy rich forests of days of yore
Thy ancient seals and gods and kings

O life stop thou, O time come back
In courts I hear the bell that rings

Oh let me breathe, let me for while
Oh fortune for once for me smile
O lower town, Why thou breakdown
Thy aging speed, may thou slow down
Thy tourists standing by thy sides
All talking of the Times and tides

Thy rooms and wards, o nature yard
All tied devotees thine with cord
They want to dwell in heart of thine
They come and stand and for thee pine
O may phantoms of bygone time
Tell stories them in tune and rhyme
With help and love of Eden Lord
Whose seraphs are thy meadows guard

O whistling toys, of girls and boys
In graves of stone why heave thou sighs
O happy ruins with face so fair
From thousand centuries slept thou there
Forgotten by the madding race
Then thou begot a heart sincere
Who wake thee from thy beauty sleep?
From fathoms deep wherest thou live
Wherest thou sob and moan and weep!
I pay homage to Cunningham
Who found thee there in seven three
Then came thy lover Daya Ram
Who thee from heaps of mud set free
Thy lips of ice, why not rejoice
Thou gaze this world with wild wild eyes
Thy fowls thy sheep, lie half asleep
In meadow green in forest deep
Thousands and thousands years passed by
My far off sky, he smiled he weep
When from thy beauteous Indus plains
The robbers carried thy remains
Thy ancient bricks, all gems of past
In hearts of heart I feel thy pains
Soul breath in ancient breathes of Thine
It roams in thy wide open lanes
Souls lost all in thy shadows deep
Thee all the time in hearts they keep

O heart of peace, for once thou speak
Is he thy king that mystery priest
I can't see there a sword or bow
Thy land was void of war and row
O dove of peace, for me thou speak
I see I feel thy wounds so bleak!
What happened to thy people all!
Wherest they lost wherest they fall
Wherest they go, wherest they are
They drowned in flood or killed in war?
Why left they all thy beauty land
Why not for thy sake there they stand

Forgotten by thy loved one all
Thou standing midst of foggy wall
From thousand thousand years of past
From hands of gods thou fall and lost
Thou saved by hands of Banerji
In lanes of thine roam world so free
Thou made by marvel hands in past
By architects, in time of glee
Thy earthen pots, thy toys and cots
Now with thine eyes thou all can see
Time writ thy name in golden words
On leaves of book of world history
All fireflies, all stars of sky
With goddess moon come and go by
They tell thy tales to soul of woods
All larks that singth on yonder sky
Then why thou feel this pain in heart?
Why lonesome feel thou, tell me why?
An ancient soul, O vale behold
For thee she brought the stars of gold
The lamps of sky the lamps from shore
On pages wrote she thy life tale
Thy breeze she will till death inhale

O muses come from mounts of Greece
My Indus heart needs love and peace
O come by me old souls a while
O sit and sing and drink and smile
And all the world will be with thee
With mirth and Glee, with breeze so free

O dancing maid! O standing still!
Come on by lake by watermill
Thou standing there in lonesome way
For centuries waiting for thy prince

Rarest thou were, rarest thou art
O treasure of the days of yore!
May thou can live till final hour
In tourists calls in love of all

Lost Cities Of Indus Vale
Error Success