Poshinool.......
O GOLDEN ORIOLE !

O golden oriole, winter's gone,

Gay spring has come again !

Step out and feast your weary eyes

On the myraid flowers abloom.

 

Born in a cage where the candle

Of your life has guttered low,

Shed your fear, and spreading wings,

Learn flight in God's free air.

 

Flowering plants have spread their arms;

Perch on the bough your fancy takes; 

But with an alien as your gardener, 

This freedom won't remain.

Know how precious midsummer is;

Don't let your youth run waste !

Pour the wine of universal love,

For all men are friends, not foes.

 

Goodness does not discriminate

Between the high and the low;

There's no greatness in lavishing bounty

On one's own kin alone.

 

Strength lies not in severe reprisals

Nor in cruel revenge;

You can win over bitterest foes

With the force of love alone.

 

Hawks have left your garden,

And birds are all in song - 

But if you yourself turn a hawk,

How futile was this change !

 

Naive indeed is your faith to see

As saviours and redeemers

Interloping birds that burn

With envy of your lot.

 

The earthworm knows how the hoopoe bites - 

Not others unaffected - 

This grand high-turbaned bird who has

A retinue of hawks and crows.

 

The Wular Lake is still in flood,

The North Wind howling strong;

The shore is far away, and you

Must steer your course with care.

 

Mahjoor has always sung love songs

In freedom in his garden.

'This is no way', the new bulbuls say,

'He must enter a cage !'

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