Translation of a poem whose poet is not known to me. All the credit of this poem goes to the poet and I am just the translator of this beautiful piece.
Thou perform the religious pilgrimages,
yet suck the life out of people,
And take away what orphans have,
To go to masjid and temple,
Heart of thine needs knitting,
But you wear precious cloth and gem,
Never dost thou question thy conscience,
And in the name of God, sacrifice the cattle,
Mould the purest nooks of hearts,
Into impure alcove of putrescence,
Long forgotten what thine duties are,
Thou succumb to supererogation,
Oh sire, would you utter,
What art thou up to?
Thou perform the religious pilgrimages,
yet suck the life out of people,
And take away what orphans have,
To go to masjid and temple,
Heart of thine needs knitting,
But you wear precious cloth and gem,
Never dost thou question thy conscience,
And in the name of God, sacrifice the cattle,
Mould the purest nooks of hearts,
Into impure alcove of putrescence,
Long forgotten what thine duties are,
Thou succumb to supererogation,
Oh sire, would you utter,
What art thou up to?
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