Poem – Sympathy 

Perched on the branch of a tree

Was a nightingale sad and lonely
‘The night has drawn near’, He was thinking

‘I passed the day in flying around and feeding
How can I reach up to the nest

Darkness has enveloped everything’? 
Hearing the nightingale wailing thus

A glow-worm lurking nearby spoke thus
‘With my heart and soul ready to help I am

Though only an insignificant insect I am
Never mind if the night is dark

I shall shed light if the way is dark
God has bestowed a torch on me

He has given a shining lamp to me
The good in the world only those are

Ready to be useful to others who are 

Poem – Spain 

Spain! You are the trustee of the Muslim

blood:

In my eyes you are sanctified like the Harem.

Prints of prostration lie hidden in your dust,

Silent calls to prayers in your morning air.

In your hills and vales were the tents of those,

The tips of whose lances were bright like the

stars.

Is more henna needed by your pretties? 

My lifeblood can give them some colour! 

How can a Muslim be put down by the straw

and grass,

Even if his flame has lost its heat and fire! 

My eyes watched Granada as well,

But the traveller’s content neither in journey

nor in rest:

I saw as well as showed, I spoke as well as

listened,

Neither seeing nor learning brings calm to the

heart! 
*

The veiled secrets are becoming manifest—

Bygone the days of you cannot see Me; 

Whosoever finds his self first,

Is Mahdi himself, the Guide of the Last Age.

Poem – Said The Coal ta a Diamond 

My stuff is so vile, I am less than dust
while your gleam rends the mirror’s heart.

My darkness lights the chafing-dish

before I am incinerated. A miner’s boot

tramples my head, covering me with ashes.
Do you know my life’s gist? 

A condensed sliver of smoke, transformed

into a single spark, in feature and nature

starlike, your every facet a splendor,

light of the king’s eye, the dagger’s jewel.
Friend, be wise, the diamond replied, assume

a bezel’s dignity! Loam strives to harden

to fill my bosom with radiance. Burn

because you are soft. Banish fear and grief.

Be hard as stone, be a diamond. 

Poem – Mirza Ghalib

Through you the secret was revealed to the human intellect
That innumerable enigmas are solved by human intellect
You were the complete soul, literary assembly was your body

You adorned as well as remained veiled from the assembly
Your eye is longing to witness that veiled Beauty

Which is veiled in everything as the pathos of life
The assemblage of existence is rich with your harp

As mountain’s silence by the brook’s melodious harp
The garden of your imagination bestows glory on the universe

From the field of your thought worlds grow like meadows
Life is concealed in the humor of your verse

Picture’s lips move with your command of language
Speech is very proud of the elegance of your miraculous lips

Thurayyah is astonished at your style’s elegance
Beloved of literature itself loves your style

Delhi’s bud is mocking at the rose of Shiraz
Ah! You are resting in the midst of Delhi’s ruins

Your counterpart is resting in the Weimar’s garden
Matching you in literary elegance is not possible

Till maturity of thought and imagination are combined
Ah! What has befallen the land of India! 

Ah! The inspirer of the super-critical eye! 
The lock of Urdu’s hair still craves for combing

This candle still craves for moth’s heart-felt pathos
O Jahanabad! O cradle of learning and art

Your entire super-structure is a silent lament
The sun and the moon are asleep in every speck of your dust

Though innumerable other gems are also hidden in your dust
Does another world-famous person like him also lie buried in you? 

Does another gem like him also lie concealed in you? 

Poem – Madness of Love is no More

mohabbat ka junuu.N baaqii nahii.n hai 
musalamaano.n me.n Khuun baaqii nahii.n hai 

safe.n kaj, dil pareshan, sajdaa bezuuk 

ke jazabaa-e-a.ndruun baaqii nahii.n hai 

rago.n me.n lahuu baaqii nahii.n hai 

wo dil, wo aawaaz baaqii nahii.n hai 

namaaz-o-rozaa-o-qurbaanii-o-haj 

ye sab baaqii hai tuu baaqii nahii.n hai 

Poem – Jawab E Shik 

Whatever comes out of the heart is effective
It has no wings but has the power of flight
It has holy origins, it aims at elegance

It rises from dust, but has access to the celestial world
My love was seditious, rebellious and clever

My fearless wailing rent through the sky
On hearing it the sun said, ‘Somewhere there is somebody! ‘

The planets said, ‘At the ‘Arsh-i-Bar 

Poem – Bachaey ki Duaa

lab pe aatii hai duaa banake tamannaa merii
zindagii shammaa kii surat ho Khudaayaa merii
duur duniyaa kaa mere dam a.Ndheraa no jaaye

har jagah mere chamakane se ujaalaa ho jaaye
ho mere dam se yuu.N hii mere watan kii ziinat

jis tarah phuul se hotii hai chaman kii ziinat
zindagii ho merii parawaane kii surat yaa rab

ilm kii shammaa se ho mujhako mohabbat yaa rab
ho meraa kaam Gariibo.n kii himaayat karanaa

dard-ma.ndo.n se zaiifo.n se mohabbat karanaa
mere allaah buraaii se bachaanaa mujhako

nek jo raah ho us raah pe chalaanaa mujhako 

Poem – Ahead of the Stars

sitaaro.n se aage jahaa.N aur bhii hai.

n abhii ishq ke imtihaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

taahii zindagii se nahii.n ye fazaaye.n 

yahaa.N saika.Do.n kaaravaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

kanaa’at na kar aalam-e-rang-o-bu par 

chaman aur bhii, aashiyaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

agar kho gayaa ek nasheman to kyaa Gam 

maqaamaat-e-aah-o-fugaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

tuu shahii.n hai parwaaz hai kaam teraa 

tere saamane aasmaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

isii roz-o-shab me.n ulajh kar na rah jaa 

ke tere zamiin-o-makaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

gae din kii tanhaa thaa mai.n a.njuman me.n 

yahaa.N ab mere raazadaa.N aur bhii hai.n 

Poem – The Cloud on The Mountain

Elevation bestows the sky’s nearness to my abode

I am the mountain’s cloud, my skirt sprinkles roses
Now the wilderness, now the rose garden is my abode

City and wilderness are mine, ocean is mine, forest is mine
If I want to return to some valley for the night

The mountain’s verdure is my carpet of velvet
Nature has taught me to be a pearl spreader

To chant the camel song for the camel of the Beloved of Mercy
To be the comforter of the dispirited farmer’s heart

To be the elegance of the assembly of the garden’s trees
I spread out over the face of the earth like the locks

I get arranged and adorned by the breeze’s
I tantalize the expecting eye from a distance

As I pass silently over some habitation
As I approach strolling towards a brook’s bank

I endow the brook with ear rings of whirlpools
I am the hope of the freshly grown field’s verdure

I am the ocean’s offspring, I am nourished by the sun
I gave ocean’s tumult to the mountain spring

I charmed the birds into thrilling chants
I pronounced ‘Rise’ standing by the verdure’s head

I conferred the taste for smile to the rose-bud
By my benevolence farmers’ huts on the mountain side

Are converted into bed chambers of the opulent. 

Pathos Of Love – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

O Pathos of Love! You are a glossy pearl 

Beware, you should not appear among strangers 
The theatre of your display is concealed under the veil 

The modern audience’ eye accepts only the visible display 
New breeze has arrived in the Existence’ garden 

O Pathos of Love! Now there is no pleasure in display 
Beware! You should not be striving for ostentation! 

You should not be obligated to the nightingale’s lament!
The tulip’s wine‐cup should be devoid of wine 

The dew’s tear should be a mere dropp of water 
Your secret should be hidden in the bosom somewhere

Your heart‐melting tear should not be your betrayer 
The flowery‐styled poet’s tongue should not be talking 

Separation’s complaint should not be concealed in flute’s music 
This age is a critic, go and somewhere conceal yourself

In the heart in which you are residing conceal yourself 
The learning’s surprise is neglecting you, beware! 

Your immature eye is not the seeker of Truth, beware 
Let the elegant thought remain in search of Truth 

Let your wisdom‐loving eye remain in astonishment 
This is not the garden whose spring you may be 

This is not the audience worthy of your appearance 
This audience is the lover of the material sights 

The purpose of your sight is the closet of secrecy 
Every heart is intoxicated with the wine of thinking 

Something different is the Tur of the Kalims of this age

 Jawab-E-Shik – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

Whatever comes out of the heart is effective 

It has no wings but has the power of flight 
It has holy origins, it aims at elegance 

It rises from dust, but has access to the celestial world 
My love was seditious, rebellious and clever 

My fearless wailing rent through the sky 
On hearing it the sun said, ‘Somewhere there is somebody! ‘ 

The planets said, ‘At the ‘Arsh-i-Bar

The Candle – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

O Candle! I am also an afflicted person in the world assembly 

Constant complaint is my lot in the manner of the rue 

Love gave the warmth of internal pathos to you 

It made me the florist selling blood-mixed tears 

Whether you be the candle of a celebrating assembly or one at the grave 

In every condition associated with the tears of sorrow you remain 

Your eye views all with equity like the Secret’s Lovers 

My eye is the pride of the tumult of discrimination 

Your illumination is alike in the Ka’bah and the temple 

I am entangled in the temple and the Haram’s discrimination 

Your black smoke contains the sigh’s elegance 

Is some heart hidden in the place of your manifestation? 

You burn with pathos due to distance from Tajalli’s Light

Your pathos the callous ones consider your light 

Though you are burning you are unaware of it all 

You see but do not encompass the internal pathos 

I quiver like mercury with the excitement of vexation 

As well I am aware of vexations of the restless heart 

This was also the elegance of some Beloved 

Which gave me perception of my own pathos 

This cognition of mine keeps me restless 

Innumerable fire temples are asleep in this spark 

Discrimination between high and low is created by this alone! 

Fragrance in flower, ecstasy in wine is created by this alone! 

Garden, nightingale, flower, fragrance this Cognition is 

Root of the struggle of ‘I and you’ this Cognition is 

At creation’s dawn as Beauty became the abode of Love 

The sound of “Kun” taught warmth to the spirit of Love 

The command came Beauty of Kun’s garden to witness

With one eye a thousand dreadful dreams to witness 

Do not ask me of the nature of the veil of being 

The eve of separation was the dawn of my being 

Gone are the days when unaware of imprisonment I was 

That my abode the adornment of the tree of Tur was 

I am a prisoner but consider the cage to be a garden 

This exile’s hovel of sorrow I consider the homeland 

Memories of the homeland a needless melancholy became 

Now the desire for sight, now Longing for search became 

O Candle! Look at the excessive illusion of thought 

Look at the end of the one worshipped by celestial denizens 

Theme of separation I am, the exalted one I am 

Design of the Will of the Universe’s Lord I am 

He desired my display as He designed me 

When at the head of Existence’ Divan He wrote me 

The pearl likes living in a handful of dust 

Style may be dull the subject is excellent 

Not seeing it rightly is the fault of shortsighted perception 

The universe is the show of effulgence of taste for Cognizance 

This network of time and space is the scaling ladder of the Universe 

It is the necklace of the neck of Eternal BeautyI 

have lost the way, Longing for the goal I am 

O Candle! Captive of perception’s illusion I am 

I am the hunter as well as the circle of tyranny’s net! 

I am the Haram’s roof as well as the bird on Haram’s roofAm I the Beauty or head to foot the melting love am I? 

It is not clear whether the beloved or the Lover am I? 

am afraid the old secret may come up to my lips again 

Lest story of suffering on the Cross may come up again.

The Bird’s Complaint – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

I am constantly reminded of the bygone times 

Those garden’s springs, those chorus of chimes 
Gone are the freedoms of our own nests 

Where we could come and go at our own pleasure 
My heart aches the moment I think 

Of the buds’ smile at the dew’s tears 
That beautiful figure, that Kamini’s form 

Which source of happiness in my nest did form 
I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now 

May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now! 
How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my abode I am 

My companions are in the home‐land, in the prison I am 
Spring has arrived, the flower buds are laughing 

On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing 
God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe? 

I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe (grief) ! 
Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such 

My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is waxing the heart 

O Listeners, considering this music do not be happy 

This call is the wailing of my wounded heart 
O the one who confined me make me free 

A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free

I Desire – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

I want to have the extremes of your Love, 

See, how silly am I, wishing for unachievable. 
I don’t care if you maltreat me or promise to unveil your beauty, 

I just want something unbearable to test my fortitude 
Let the God fearing people be dwelling in the paradise, 

For, instead I want to be face to face with you. 

(I don’t want to go to paradise but want to observe the Divine Beauty) 
O fellows, I am here for a few moments, as a gust, 

Like morning star I will fade and vanish in a few moments. 
I disclosed the secret in public, 

I need to be punished for being so rude.

A Spider And A Fly – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

One day a spider said to a fly 

‘Though you pass this way daily 
My hut has never been honored by you 

By making a chance visit inside by you 
Though depriving strangers of a visit does not matter 

Evading the near and dear ones does not look good 
My house will be honored by a visit by you 

A ladder is before you if you decide to step in 
Hearing this the fly said to the spider, 

‘Sire, you should entice some simpleton thus 
This fly would never be pulled into your net 

Whoever climbed your net could never step down’ 
The spider said, ‘How strange, you consider me a cheat 

I have never seen a simpleton like you in the world 
I only wanted to entertain you 

I had no personal gain in view 
You have come flying from some unknown distant place 

Resting for a while in my house would not harm you 
Many things in this house are worth your seeing 

Though apparently a humble hut you are seeing 
Dainty drapes are hanging from the doors 

And I have decorated the walls with mirrors 
Beddings are available for guests’ comforts 

Not to everyone’s lot do fall these comforts’. 
The fly said, ‘All this may very well be 

But do not expect me to enter your house 
‘May God protect me from these soft beds 

Once asleep in them getting up again is impossible’ 

The spider spoke to itself on hearing this talk 

‘How to trap it? This wretched fellow is clever 
Many desires are fulfilled with flattery in the world 

All in the world are enslaved with flattery’ 
Thinking this the spider spoke to the fly thus! 

‘Madam, God has bestowed great honors on you! 
Everyone loves your beautiful face 

Even if someone sees you for the first time 
Your eyes look like clusters of glittering diamonds 

God has adorned your beautiful head with a plume 
This beauty, this dress, this elegance, this neatness! 

And all this is very much enhanced by singing in flight’. 
The fly was touched by this flattery 

And spoke, ‘I do not fear you any more 
I hate the habit of declining requests 

Disappointing somebody is bad indeed’ 
Saying this it flew from its place 

When it got close the spider snapped it 
The spider had been starving for many days 

The fly provided a good leisurely meal

The Sun – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

O Sun! The world’s essence and motivator you are 

The organizer of the book of the world you are 
The splendor of existence has been created by you 

The verdure of the garden of existence depends on you
The spectacle of elements is maintained by you 

The exigency of life in all is maintained by you 
Your appearance confers stability on everything 

Your illumination and concord is completion of life 
You are the sun which establishes light in the world 

Which establishes heart, intellect, essence and wisdom
O Sun! Bestow on us the light of wisdom 

Bestow your luster’s light on the intellect’s eye 
You are the decorator of necessaries of existence’ assemblage 

You are the Yazdan of the denizens of the high and the low 
Your excellence is reflected from every living thing 

The mountain range also shows your elegance 
You are the sustainer of the life of all 

You are the king of the light’s children 
There is no beginning and no end of yours 

Free of limits of time is the light of yours

The Painful Wail – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

Consumed with grief I am, I get relief in no way 

O circumambient waters of the Ganges drown me 
Our land foments excessive mutual enmity 

What unity! Our closeness harbors separation 
Enmity instead of sincerity is outrageous 

Enmity among the same barn’s grains is outrageous 
If the brotherly breeze has not entered in a garden 

No pleasure can be derived from songs in that garden 
Though I exceedingly love the real closeness 

I am upset by the mixing of waves and the shore 
The miraculous poet is like the grain from the barn 

The grain has no existence if there is no barn 
How can beauty unveil itself if no one is anxious for sight 

Lighting of the candle is meaningless if there is no assembly 
Why does the taste for speech not change to silence 

Why does this brilliance not appear out from my mirror 
Alas! My tongue poured its speech down 

When war’s fire had burnt the garden down

The Colorful Rose – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

You are not troubled with solving enigmas 

O, beautiful Rose! nor do you have sublime feelings in your heart 
Though you ornament the assembly, still you flower apart 

In life’s assembly I am not permitted such comforts 
In my garden I am the complete orchestra of longing 

While your life is devoid of love’s passionate warmth 
To pluck you from the branch is not my custom 

I am not blinded by mere appearances 
O, colorful rose this hand is not your tormentor 

I am no callous flower picker! 
I am no intern to analyze you with scientific eyes 

Like a lover, I see you with nightingales’ eyes 
Despite your innumerable tongues, you have chosen silence 

What secrets, O Rose, lie concealed in your bosom? 
Like me you’re a leaf from the garden of Ñër 

Far from the garden I am, far from the garden we both are 
You are content, but I am a scattered fragrance 

Pierced by the sword of love in my quest 
This turmoil within me might be a means of fulfillment 

This torment, a source of illumination 
My frailty might be the beginning of strength 

My envy might mirror the cup of divination 
My constant vigil is a world-illuminating candle 

And teaches this steed, the human intellect, to gallop

The Himalayas – Allama Muhammad Iqbal

O Himalah! O rampart of the realm of India! 

Bowing down, the sky kisses your forehead 
Your condition does not show any signs of old age 

You are young in the midst of day and night’s alternation 
The Kalâm of ñër Sân« witnessed but one Effulgence 

For the discerning eye you are an embodiment of Effulgence 
To the outward eye you are a mere mountain range 

In reality you are our sentinel, you are India’s rampart 
You are the diwan whose opening verse is the sky 

You lead Man to the solitudes of his heart’s retreat 
Snow has endowed you with the turban of honour 

Which scoffs at the crown of the world-illuminating sun 
Antiquity is but a moment of your bygone age 

Dark clouds are encamped in your valleys 
Your peaks are matching with the pleiades in elegance 

Though you are standing on earth your abode is sky’s expanse 
The stream in your flank is a fast flowing mirror 

For which the breeze is working like a kerchief 
The mountain top’s lightning has given a whip 

In the hands of cloud for the ambling horse 
O Himalah! Are you like a theater stage 

Which nature’s hand has made for its elements? 
Ah! How the cloud is swaying in excessive joy 

The cloud like an unchained elephant is speeding 
Gentle movement of the morning zephyr is acting like a cradle 

Every flower bud is swinging with intoxication of existence 
The flower bud’s silence with the petal’s tongue is saying 

‘I have never experienced the jerk of the florist’s hand 
Silence itself is relating the tale of mine 

The corner of nature’s solitude is the abode of mine’ 
The brook is melodiously descending from the high land 

Putting the waves of Kawthar and Tasnâm to embarrassment 
As if showing the mirror to Nature’s beauty 

Now evading now rowing against the rock in its way 
Play in passing this orchestra of beautiful music 

O wayfarer! The heart comprehends your music 
When the night’s Lailah unfurls her long hair 

The sound of water-falls allures the heart 
That silence of the night whose beauty surpasses speech 

That state of silent meditation overshadowing the trees 
That dusk’s beauty which shivers along the mountain range 

Very beautiful looks this rouge on your cheeks 
O Himalah! Do relate to us some stories of the time 

When your valleys became abode of Man’s ancestors 
Relate something of the life without sophistication 

Which had not been stained by the rouge of sophistication 
O Imagination! Bring back that period 

O Vicissitudes of Time speed backwards