To the memory of my father rahimahullah
For you,
It’s cool to drive home
An almond-eyed cool blonde
Picked up in Paris or in Rome.
For you,
It’s cool to score a goal in Liverpool
Against Real Madrid or Lazio Rome.
For you,
It must be fine to savour wine
And spaghetti while listening to Pavarotti.
For you,
It’s great to have £ 8,000 in hand
Or to land a higher rank in a central bank.
For you,
It’s a delight to the eyes
To watch sunrise in the dunes of Morocco.
For you,
It’s beyond telling the joy of jogging in Monaco.
Let alone the joy of shopping in Hanoi
Or riding a mule in Illinois.
For you,
Time is Now, life in Now,
And there’s nothing to be said
For there’s no other life ahead.
For you,
Life is the kitchen and the bed.
Well, that’s you.
As for me,
Life is Now and Tomorrow.
Life is joy and sorrow.
For me,
I would love to hear Allahu Akbar
From a minaret in Madagascar.
I would love to hear an imam
Talk of Islam in Amsterdam,
Or speak to the children of Leeds
About the worth of good deeds.
I would love to see girls pray
To Allah at Broadway.
I would love to see boys making a lot of noise
Simply because they say
It’s just as lovely
To be a Muslim in Sydney
As in Harlem or Boston !
I would love to see people
From all over the world
Flying as one bird
To meet round the Ka’ba
To say what the Queen of Sheba
Learnt from Solomon :
There’s no God but Allah.
Praise, Praise to Allah !