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I hail thee ruins 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

                    (11)
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
                (111)
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
Continued
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