What will you do with this blood, 

This blood

Warm like kisses from red-rose-coloured lips,

The smile of tiny children, the prayer on old lips,

The mascara of half-opened eyes, the henna on soft hands,

The melody of the musician’s harp, the sound of the poet’s instrument,

The promise of love’s fidelity?

This blood is not an infidel, an apostate, nor a Muslim.

This first heart-clasping word of the Book of Life

Is the song of the Vedas and the Gita, the melody of God’s scripture,

The earliest melody of longing,

The soul of the holy Bible, the essence of the Torah and the Psalms;

The thirst of daggers cannot be put out by this flame.

.

What will you do with this blood, 

This blood, 

Warm, red, youthful?

Earth’s womb will burn if it falls on dust again.

Never again will the drop of mercy rain from heaven,

A seed sprout,

A shoot smile, nor a flower exude a scent.

This blood—the fragrance of lips, the light of eyes;

This blood—the colour of cheeks, the intoxication of the heart

The Sun of Mount Paran, the Splendour of Sinai,

The flame of the Word of Truth, the burning of an impatient soul,

The light of the utterance of righteousness, the appearance of effulgence—

This blood, my blood, your blood, everyone’s blood.

.
10 August 1965

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From: Pairāhan-i sharar (Garment of Fire), 1965. pp. 39-40  

Yih lahū is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970