Classic Poem

As before, in my heart of them no sign was seen,
Now from forth it what deeds does the world behold?
Through Lachee and Choutra did I wander,
But now is my way to Maidar, the Afridi's home.
As the Falcon circling round surveys the mountain on both sides,
Again is now my glance upon the mountains of Swat.
When I gave up the titles of the Moguls, thus pleased was I
As would be a captive from the bonds of long confinement.
Such rare determination as is mine,
No other Afghan will be born the same.
Could I but find one other patriot at my hand,
Far from my heart with him would fly all my griefs.
To the Mogul then would I such deeds make known,
That pleased would be the soul even of Farid Khan.
In God's strength will I conquer, He will help me,
What though in the battle Satan himself were my foe?
Whatever the work to which a brave man binds his heart,
Though as a piercing thorn, as a flower it will result.
Even if he were an angel, trouble would be his lot,
Whoever's fate has made him companion of the base.
He whose intelligence is weak, it is well for him
That to another's guidance he should bend his way.
No longer now to-day's design will I defer until to-morrow,
For what guarantee to man is there of to-morrow's life?
He who sleeping laughs, waking finds good cause for weeping;
In the friendship of the foolish the advantage is but loss.
One spark alone is required to fire a village,
It takes but one word to drive all trust away.
Come, Cupbearer, pass the tankard, it is my turn to-day,
See who knows to-morrow, whose turn it then will be.
Aurungzeeb the Emperor has come raging to Lahore,
See until to-morrow what the lot of all will be.
As the meadows need the rain and the breezes' favouring influence,
It is to those that show them kindness that the people will be true.
Go, speak not of the changes of the month or of the seasons,
Every day to us does Providence stranger changes show.
Many are they to-day who boast to you of their friendship,
But your life they seek to-morrow, for your foes they are become.
In the world there are but two choices which honour offers,
Either to lose one's life or to succeed in one's design.
I am looking for the struggle of the Falcon with the Raven,
Streams there are of blood that 'twixt them will flowing be.