Precious it was in Mughal days
vigorously sought and procured
to build tombs, minars and palaces.
Qutab Minar towers high,
Massive walls of Red Fort stand firm.
Buland Darwaza aches the eye;
Fatehpur Sikhri in half ruins
like a man down with paralysis.
Tombs of men, born, made or assumed great
emerge curved, ever in red;
Men, who wished immortality
through tombs, should have known
the red stone is of sterner stuff than their own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem