This Soul-Cherishing Whisper

by Shabbir Hasan Khan Josh
On our tongue is the talk of high values,
but our thoughts are low . . .
The enemy is on our head
but we are fighting among ourselves . . .
In the cold, bleak atmosphere of night
I hear a whisper
like the soft humming of the breeze
when it passes beneath the stem of a fern,
or the gentle flutter of the wings of Gabriel from heaven,
or the distant patter of rain heard in a dream,
or the mysterious awakening of the melodies of the stream by the dawn,
or the soft murmur of air in a vast desert . . .
How describe (the significance of) this soul-cherishing whisper?
Though dormant, the East is eagerly awaiting the morrow,
The soul of Asia is ready to be awakened.

Translated from the Urdu by G. Yazdani