English Translations - International Iqbal Society - Allama Iqbal

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

One who resides in desert waste,
Or person born on mountains steep
Can keep a watch on aims and ends
That Nature in its view does keep.

He draws no line 'twixt fair and foul
Of culture, whose spell makes you sleep
His Faqr possesses the wealth of kings,
Who coffers full of God do as keep.

O warbler of this earthly mead,
Why are your songs so sweet and fair
Wherefore, desert hawk, you own,
Such grandeur great and daring rare?

O Shaikh, no doubt, the climate of your school
Is so much pure and chaste
But men, like Salman and Farooq,
Are brought up in some desert waste.

The fire that Muslim Faith bestows
Is as sharp as the sword of steel,
But after thousand years is born
Its match, who mighty blows can deal.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

That glance can not be termed as true
Which draws; a line 'twixt red and pale
That sight is true which does not like
The light of Sun or Moon to 'vail.

The aim and goal of Muslim true
Is far beyond the bounds of West
Take longer steps and walk space,
As this site is not meant for rest.

The marts that sell the wine in West
Always keep their doors ajar:
The rapture caused by Knowledge new
Is removed from sin much afar.
If your frame is bereft or heat
Which words, "No god but He impart",
Then bear in mind this well-known fact.

Your soul from body may depart.
The sons of Khans, who own high rank,
Shall listen to my humble sound
Though I am dressed in rags and sack
And wear no cap or turban round.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

Sher Shah explained this point with so much grace,
Distinction of tribes leads to much disgrace.
The names of various tribes to them are dear,
The robe of Afghaniat don't like to wear.

Their Islam is to pieces and fragments torn,
Like pagans, girdles by them still are worn.
They worship and adore their idols old,
May God help them deaf blows much bold

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

'Mong Muslim men, if one
On firm belief has hold
His glance can set afire
All, whether young or old.

Off and on men are born
In waste or mountain range,
Who by their dint of Faqr
Pot-sherd to bezel change.

You can build up your luck,
If courage you can show:
For God has written naught
With His pen on your brow.

This azure vast expanse
That goes by name of sky
If one has Wings for flight,
In fact, is not so high.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

The nations suffer death
From centre if they part
If they have centre strong,
Godhead it can impart,

Such Faqr which has a plaint
Against the toils of life
Has beggar's wont and mode
And can't bear worldly strife.

A godly man even now,
By wondrous act can chancre
To tiny mustard seed,
A lofty mountain range.

In fight without your heat
No zeal or zest is found:
Where are you godly man,
Take part in combat's round

O Sun, arise from East
And sail upon my view
Give all the mountain range
A crimson tinge and hue.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

O pilgrim, who tread mystic path,
Your goal with case you can attain
Man's Conscience can bear out this fact
That Faqr's high rank isn't hard to gain.

The steel can never make or forge
A sharp and sturdy sword at all
If steel is smooth and soft, like silk,
Such toys, true sword one can not call.

If Faqr possesses no self esteem,
It means God Mighty's ire and wrath
If respect for Self keeps in view,
To riches great it paves the path.

The Franks have made you oblivious
To Self, otherwise O Believer True,
You are the bearer of happy news,
And warn the sinners 'gainst their due.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

Without a toper's courage, Love
Consists of naught save trick and guile
A man, whose Love of God is great,
Has brawny arms and is agile.

Alas the love of case and rest
Among the pilgrims seems profound
A man, who journey's toils may deem,
As steed and food, is nowhere found.

O men of plains, do not think
That I teach the beastly mode and art
The lonely desert arid the mounts
The man Self knowledge can impart.

This world observes traditions old,
In world to come mere hymns can serve
Forge both worlds and stick to God,
If kingly grandeur you wish to deserve.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

To me upset appears the Cosmos old,
But I do not know what your eyes behold.
In breasts the morn of Last Day comes to view.
Old thoughts of youth have been replaced by new.

Your hymns at morn can't make amends for Life,
O Elder of the shrine, without much strife.
The Shrines no strength to Self e'er can impart.
Because no sparks from wet flame can depart.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

In maze of Latin script and sin,
Your bearings, no doubt, you have lost
Belief that none has might save God,
Is cure for weak that acts so fast.

A man who likes to hunt the facts
Must quit All hopes of West, is cleat
Its atmosphere is full of charm,
But one can't find musk-yielding deer.

The self of man derives much strength
From tears he sheds at early morn
Much good that tulip, like the dart,
The marge of some brook may adorn.

This idol-house of hue and scent,
Or fane so ancient, old and hoar
Hunts those who don't believe in God,
On Muslims has effect no more.

O Shaikh, get all the rich expelled
From precincts of the Holy mosque
For niche of mosque is angry with
Them all for their much impious task.

2021-02-19T16:44:32+00:00

The same lamp that illuminated your yesternight,
Though gone out, once again may gel alight
A courageless man can 'gainst Time bewail,
Whereas the free Fate's stings, like honey hail.

That youth for noise of wars can not be fit,
Who hearing wail of birds at morn loses wit
I fear that you. have childish bent of heart,
Those selling sweets in West are full of art.