The Truth Lies Prostrate Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

O! God descend from the heights,
To console my restless heart in the chest,
I have to swim across the Mediterranean,
Infuse courage into my flesh and bones,
I am resolute to uproot each shade-less tree.
Christ again has mounted the stake,
Now remove burdens from the graves,
The world has become a place of agony,
For here was shed blood of the Innocent.

O! God pour down the rain of peace,
I urge to see the crop green, swaying in the farm,
The world is a place where the Truth lies
Prostrate on the ground, descend to prop,
Make It stand straight to face the odds.

Written By Sabina Riffat
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar