Their blessed scars shall be admired
Nor the Hellenic tears, the rivers, be dried
That artillery redeems the desire's disgrace
When hell's last chain tortures and they face
There rose ethereal tunes of song
Riding in submarine bright, very strong
Fight round her, definitely glorified
Mother Theresa, moon-like, a far-moving tide
Of regret and memory; inside her, each alone
White against black of storm, an angel, she is known
At root and water of this, who flung this flame
May her familiars grow to shun prodigal name
When at last they challenged poisonous hearts to the fray
And in a League of Truth, The Almighty God grant they may
And let solemn prayers hosts together bring
In Manila, they receive the fellowship of love-giving
Ahmad Shiddiqi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-3-2/
