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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required (1) O Thou the beauteous lofty fort! O ancient manse O royal court! O land of beauteous holy dream! Thou art a shield of mortal mort Thou midst of ancient royal mead A royal shade A royal hand From centuries by majestic sky In circles of devotees stand The birds there singth in mirth and Glee And doth so souls of seraph bands (11) In evening sing cuckoo and lark And with them ring the mystic bells O Tell thou Dozen lofty gates O speak Thou stepped magic wells Sprawling on the rocky hills In bent of running foaming Ghaan To save His kingly royal heart Thy face decor by Shah Sher Khan? Thou built on ancient Indian lands Thou Koh e noor of Pakistan (111) Artistic hands of noble Turks They measured first by indian scale They then erected Asian king In meadow green in heart of vale Oh Thou largest than all the forts! On face of Asian continent For crowds of people everyday Thou sing the songs of merriment O Thou the kingly knight at Arms! O thou guarded by heavens wall! Thy face on hilly slope was made By thousand hands of Todar Laal! To crush the tribes of Potohar Who were the lions of Indian war (4) O kings , Queens Of royal line Wherest thou live? Wherest thou go? No grave no tomb not any shrine Wherest tell me wherest you bow? Thou chirp in birds in winds that blow! Or thou in Ghaan bottoms row? With open eyes I can see The princess swimming in Baoli In scented orchard royal maids Are fixing blooms in princess braids In castle thine now fairies dwell They drink the water of thy wells In horrid nights they knock at doors And then lie on dusty floors They wake and dance in lap of meads In Dewy gale in morning breeze O harken me departed souls O ancient stones ! O willow tree! I fear the fate of Royal king Thy kingly face who can not see Who can not pray in Royal mosque Who can't feel it's mirth and Glee I fear The callous lady Death Who in thy orchard roams so free (5) Thy fort is in the hand of Lord He is the owner of this Gem While thou and me by our heart cord Can bow to him or sing a hymn We are the tourists on this earth We are a grain of desert vast While phantoms of the days of past Like kingly jewels all they lost
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