نيا شوالا

May I tell the truth O Brahman! If it does not displease you! The idols of your temple have become anachronistic.

You have learnt grudge with your own people from the idols; God also has taught fighting to Muslim preachers.

Becoming tired, I finally abandoned the temple and the Haram; I abandoned the preacher's sermons, as well as your stories.

You take the stone idols to contain God; every speck of the homeland's dust is holy to me.

Come! Let us again roll up the curtains of strangeness. Let us unite the separated ones, let us remove the disunion.

The heart's habitation is lying barren since long. Let us build a new temple in this country.

Let our shrine be higher than the world's shrines. Let us make its spire as high as the sky.

Let our morning's incantations be so sweet every morning that all worshipers be ecstatic with the Love's wine.

The power and tranquillity is in the devotees' song. The salvation of the denizens of the earth is in Love