Classic Poem

Why are the Bangash thus calling aloud to me?
Ready I am and armed, my gun have I laid beside me.
Greater the sense and the might of the Gwarrikhels than of the Bangash:
Risen are the Gwarrikhels with me in honour's cause.
In the Bangash see I power neither of numbers nor of valour,
How then shall they join in fight against me?
Perchance they deem me blind, or I am crippled in their eyes?
Of this the ruin of their designs shall be the proof.
Too wise is the Locust to waste his life for nothing;
The foolish Moth it is that seeks the candle's flame.
Even yet his brains are quivering from the shock,
Who dashed his head against me as upon a stone.
In the heart of the Rhinoceros will he find my bullet,
Who has watched me when I search the forests with my gun.
Sleeping, from his bed he falls through trembling,
Who has heard but once the whistling of my sword.
If thou wouldst know my fame in this generation,
I am he who has sorely wounded Aurung's heart.
Khyber's Pass have I made to the Moguls their dearest purchase,
In every spot have they paid taxes to the Pathans.
From the Pathans great were the hopes I entertained,
What can I do? No regard is their's for their own honour.
Fortune helps me not now in this my object,
Though far greater has been my fortune than that of Faridun.
Consider well the state of Khush-hal's heart —
Though seated on a throne, he is humble as a pilgrim!