IQBAL POETRY PDF

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This research work concentrates on selected poetry works of Iqbal. the poems of Iqbal according to the notion of modern stylistics and pragmatics. wrote poetry in Urdu and Persian, and several collections in each language exist. Iqbal was born in Sialkot. In the present day province of the Punjab in Pakistan. Allama Muhammad Iqbal SELECTED POETRY IN English translation By Mohammed Mehboob Hussain Aazad 1 . Iqbal's Poetry If we wish to understand Iqbal and the significance of his message, it is necessary for us to Download pdf.


Iqbal Poetry Pdf

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Classic Poetry Series Allama Muhammad Iqbal - poems - Publication Date: Publisher: adirknesmala.gq - The World's Poetry Archive Allama Muhammad. from Iqbal's Urdu poems. There are 37 poems in the book. I translated and published Iqbal's Persian Masnavi Asrar-i-Khudi in Dr. Javid Iqbal, Muhammad. Sir Muhammad Iqbal, also known as Allama Iqbal, was a philosopher, poet and . Allama Iqbal's poetry has also been translated into several European.

Protect me from the evil ways Show me the path leading to the good ways My longing comes to my lips as supplication of mine O God! May my homeland through me attain elegance As the garden through flowers attains elegance May my life like that of the moth be, O Lord! Protect me from the evil ways Show me the path leading to the good ways.

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 Perched on the branch of a tree Was a nightingale sad and lonely?

Darkness has enveloped everything"? Where have you come leaving me there? Restless due to separation I am Weeping every day forever I am You did not care even a little for me What loyalty you showed, you left me"! Your tears have extinguished this"! 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 O God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe?

I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe! 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. Wait and let me rest awhile And let me shed a few tears at this habitation O those steeped in a swoon, "Where are you?

Tell me something of the land where you live Is that world also one of prevarication? Is that world also one of denizens' struggle? Is Man engulfed by sorrow in that land also? Is Man's heart suppressed and helpless in that land also? Does the moth burn itself in candle's love in that land also? Does the tale of flower and nightingale exist in that garden also? In this world a single hemistich perturbs the heart Does there also the warmth of verse soften the heart?

This world's relations and alliances life's woes are Are similar sharp thorns present in that garden also? The daily bread and a million calamities this world has Does the soul freedom from anxieties in that world has? Are the thunder, the farmer, the harvest there also? Are the caravan and the robber's fear there also? Do birds collect bits of straw for nests there also?

Is the search for bricks and clay for house there also? Are the humans unaware of their reality there also? Like this world is there no sympathy in that world also? Does the Paradise a garden or a restful mansion constitute?

Or does the Eternal Beauty's Unveiled Face it constitute? Does hell a method of burning away sins constitute? Or it in flames of fire a way of discipline constitute? Has walking given way to speedy flying in that world? What is the secret of what is called death by denizens of this world? Life eases the heart's restlessness in this world Is human knowledge also restricted in that world? Does the separated heart get satisfaction by sight there also?

Are "Lan Tarani" saying the Turs of that land also Does the soul get solace in longing there also? Is man a victim of desire to learn there also?

Is that land also filled with darkness? Or with Love's light is completely illuminated? Tell us what the secret under this rotating dome is Death a pricking sharp thorn in the human breast is. The Candle and the Moth O Candle! Why does the moth love you? Why is this restless soul devoted to you? Your charm keeps it restless like mercury Did you teach it the etiquette of Love? It circumambulates the site of your manifestation Is it inspired with the fire of your lightning?

Do the woes of death give it the peace of life? Does your flame possess the quality of eternal life? This small insect and the Longing for the Light! 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!

Fragrance in flower, ecstasy in wine is created by this alone! It is not clear whether the beloved or the Lover am I? I am afraid the old secret may come up to my lips again Lest story of suffering on the Cross may come up again. I have become weary of human assemblages! When the heart is sad no pleasure in assemblages can be I seek escape from tumult, my heart desires The silence which speech may ardently love!

The star from sky like a spurious picture has been removed! When from the roof of the sky your beauty appears Effect of sleep's wine suddenly from eyes disappears Perception's expanse gets filled with light Though opens only the material eye your light The spectacle which the eyes seek is desired The effulgence which would open the insight is desired The desires for freedom were not fulfilled in this life We remained imprisoned in chains of dependence all life The high and the low are alike for your eye I too have longing for such a discerning eye May my eye shedding tears in sympathy for others' woes be!

May my heart free from the prejudice of nation and customs be! May my tongue be not bound with discrimination of color May mankind be my nation, the whole world my country be May secret of Nature's organization clear to my insight be May smoke of my imagination's candle rising to the sky be May search for secrets of opposites not make me restless! May the Love-creating Beauty in everything appear to me! May no thought in my mind except human sympathy be!

If you cannot endure the hardships of the tumultuous world O the Great Luminary that is not the mark of greatness! As you are not aware of your world-decorating beauty You cannot be equal to a speck of dust at the Man's door! The light of Man eager for the Spectacle ever remained And you obligated to the tomorrow's morning ever remained Longing for the Light of the Truth is only in our hearts Abode of Lailah of desire for search is only in this litter Opening of the difficult knot, Oh what a pleasure it is!

The pleasure of universal gain in our endless effort is! Your bosom is unacquainted with the pain of investigation You are not familiar with searching of the secrets of Nature.

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 drop 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!

Has the sky stolen the ear ring of the evening's bride? Or has the fragile cord in the Nile's waters strolling? Your caravan is afoot without help of bell's call The human ear cannot hear your foot-steps' sound You show the spectacle of rise and fall to the eyes Where is your home? To which country are you going? O star-like planet take me with yourself The prick of Longing's thorn keeps me restless I am seeking light, I am weary in this habitation I am the restless child in the existence's school.

I do not want to encounter the face of yours" Hearing this said the angel of death "My work is clear, I am the angel of death I shatter the chattels of existence I extinguish the spark of life The magic of annihilation is in my eyes The message of destruction is its symbol But there is one entity in the Universe It is fire, I am only mercury before it It lives in the human heart as a spark It is the darling of the Divine Light It constantly drips as tears from the eyes The tears whose bitterness is tolerable" When Love heard this from the death's lips , Laughter started appearing from its lips The thunder of such smile descended on death How can darkness stay in front of such light?

On seeing eternity to death it fell Death it was, to death it fell. The Poet A nation is the body, people are its organs Artisans are the nation's hands and feet The State administration is the nation's beautiful face The elegant-styled poet is the nation's clear-sighted eye When any organ is afflicted with pain, the eye weeps How sympathetic to the world body is the eye, THE HEART Tales of gallows and crucifixion are mere child's play for the Heart The request of Arin is only the title of the story of the Heart O Lord!

How powerful the full cup of that wine would be? The Way to eternity is each single line on the measuring cup of the Heart O Lord! Was it the cloud of mercy or the thunderbolt of Love When the life's crop got burned down, sprouted the seed of the Heart You would have got the Beauty's bountiful treasure O Farhad! Envy of a thousand prostrations is one slip of the Heart It changes the heap of earth into elixir Such is the power of the ashes of the Heart It gains freedom after being caught in the net of Love On being thunder-struck greens up the tree of the Heart.

The Ocean Wave My impatient heart keeps me relentlessly restless Like mercury agitation is the essence of life to me Wave is my name, the sea is fordable to me The whirlpool's circle would never be a chain to me My steed speeds in the water like wind The fishing tackle has never caught my skirt Sometimes I jump up due to attraction of the full moon Sometimes in excitement, I strike my head on the shore I am the traveler who loves destination Someone should ask me why I always jump Fleeing from the discomfort of the narrow river I am Upset by separation from the ocean's vastness I am.

I have not found that Yusuf in your market place The perplexed eye for another scene is searching As storm-stricken my eye for coast is searching Leaving your garden like fragrance I am going Farewell!

O worldly company I am going to the homeland I have made my home in the quietness of the mountain side Ah! I do not get this pleasure in conversation's music! Associate of Nargis-i-Shahlah, and rose's companion I am The garden is my homeland, nightingale's associate I am The sound of the spring's music lulls me to sleep The morning cuckoo from the green carpet wakes me up Everyone in the world assemblage social life likes The poet's heart but the solitude's corner likes I am verged on lunacy by being perturbed in habitations For whom I am searching, roaming in the mountain valleys?

Whose love makes me roam in the meadows? You taunt me that fond of the corner of retirement I am Look O imprudent one! Messenger of Nature's assembly I am Compatriot of the elms, turtle dove's confidante I am! In this garden's silence in the state of anxiety I am! If I do hear something it is only to tell others If I do see something it is only to show others My heart is a lover of retirement, proud of my home I am Scoffing at the thrones of Dara and Sikandar I am How enchanting is the act of lying under the trees As now and then my sight falls at the evening star Where in the strange house of learning can this be seen!

The secret of universe can only in the rose petal be seen. The Portrait Of Anguish My story is not indebted to the patience of being heard My silence is my talk, my speechlessness is my speech Why does this custom of silencing exist in your assembly?

My tongue is tantalized to talk in this assembly Some leaves were picked up by the tulip, some by the narcissus, some by the rose My story is scattered around everywhere in the garden The turtle-doves, parrots, and nightingales pilfered away The garden's denizens jointly robbed away my plaintive way O Candle!

What is the pleasure of living so in this world? Neither the eternal life, nor the sudden death is mine This is not only my wailing, but is that of the entire garden I am a rose, to me every rose' autumn is my autumn "In this grief-stricken land, in life-long spell of the caravan's bell I am From the palpitating heart's bounties the silent clamor I have " In the world's garden unaware of pleasant company I am Whom happiness still mourns, that hapless person I am Speech itself sheds tears at my ill luck Silent word, longing for an eager ear I am I am a mere handful of scattered dust but I do not know Whether Alexander or a mirror or just dust and scum I am Despite all this my existence is the Divine Purpose Embodiment of light is whose reality, that darkness I am I am a treasure, concealed in the wilderness dust No one knows where I am, or whose wealth I am?

Your tales are admonitory among all the tales Conferring the wailing on me is like conferring everything Since eternity Destiny's pen has put me where all your mourners are O gardener do not leave even the rose-petals' trace in this garden! By your misfortune war preparations are afoot among the gardeners The sky has kept thunderbolts concealed up its sleeve Garden's nightingales should not slumber in their nests Listen to my call, O imprudent one! This is something which The birds in gardens are reciting like the daily prayers Think of the homeland, O ignorant one!

Hard times are coming Conspiracies for your destruction are afoot in the heavens Pay attention to what is happening and what is going to happen What good there is in repeating the tales of the old glories? How long will you remain silent? Create taste for complaint! You should be on the earth, so your cries be in the heavens! You will be annihilated if you do not understand, O people of India! Leave me alone in the soul-searching effort As I will surely exhibit this mark of the ardent Love I will show the world what my eyes have seen I will surely make you also bewildered like a mirror The discerning eye sees every thing covered in veils It does see the exigencies of the nature of times You have not acquainted your heart with pleasure of dignity You have passed your entire life in humility like foot-prints You always remained entangled inside the assembly, but Have not acquainted yourself with the world outside the assembly You have continued loving the charm of material beauties But you have never seen your own elegance in this mirror Give up prejudice O imprudent one!

In the world's glass house They are your own pictures which you have taken as evil ones Become embodiment of the wail of tyranny of life's pathos!

You have concealed sound in your pocket like the rue seed Clarity of heart has nothing to do with external decorations O imprudent one! You have applied myrtle to mirror's palm Not only the earth even the sky is bewailing your imprudence It is outrageous that you have twisted the Qur'an's lines! To what purpose is your claim to monotheism! O imprudent one! You have made the Absolute confined You are greedy of flowery style even at the pulpit Your advice also is a form of story telling Show that universally illuminating Beauty to your weeping eye Which renders the moth highly agitated, which makes the dew weep like eye Mere seeing is not its purpose!

O greedy one Some One has made the human eye with some purpose Even if he viewed the whole world, what did he see? How can we live with constant disgrace in the garden If you understand, independence is veiled in Love Slavery is to remain imprisoned in the net of schism Contentment is what keeps the cup submerged in water You should also remain like the bubble in the stream It is best for you not to remain indifferent to yours own O apathetic person!

If you want to remain alive in the world Soul-invigorating wine is the Love of the human race It has taught me to remain ecstatic without the wine cup and the pitcher Sick nations have been cured only through Love Nations have warded off their adversity through Love The expanse of Love is at once foreign land and homeland This wilderness is the cage, the nest, as well as the garden Love is the only stage which is the stage as well as the wilderness It is the bell, the caravan, the leader as well as the robber Everybody calls it an illness, but it is such an illness In which the cure for all ills and misfortunes is concealed The heart's pathos in a way is to become embodiment of Light If this moth burns it is also the assembly's candle The Beauty is just one but appears in everything It is Shirin, the sky, as well as the mountain digger Distinction of sects and governments has destroyed nations Is there any concern for the homeland in my compatriot's hearts?

Your resident is now residing in the West Ah! The land of the East was not liked by him Today my heart is convinced of this truth The light of the separation's day is darker than night "As from his departure's breast the scar is picked up Sight is asleep in my eyes like the extinguished candle" I am fond of seclusion, I hate the habitation I run away from the city in excruciation of love I make the heart restless from the olden days' memory For satisfaction I come ardently running towards you Though the eye is familiar with your nook and corner Still some strangeness is apparent from my speed My heart's speck was just to be acquainted with the sun The broken mirror was just to expand into the universe The tree of my longings was just going to green up Ah!

Mercy's cloud gathered up its skirt from my garden and departed Rained a little over the flower buds of my desires and departed Where are you! O Kalim of the pinnacle of learning! Your breath was the breeze promoting the joy of learning Gone is that zeal for walking in the vast expanse of learning!

The Moon Though miles away from my abode is your homeland Tumultuous like the sea is my heart with your attraction Where do you intend to go? From where are you coming? Perhaps you have become pale from the journey's hardships In creation you are embodiment of light, of darkness I am In spite of this misfortune akin to you in destiny I am Ah!

Ablaze I am from the heat of longing for God's Sight Embodiments of pathos are you from obligation of sun's sight If your motion established in an orbit is My motion also like that of a compass is. I am different, you are different The bosoms, which are afflicted by the pathos, are different Though the embodiment of darkness I am, embodiment of light you are Hundreds of stages away from the taste of Intellect you are I know what the purpose of my existence is Your forehead devoid is of this luster.

How happy was the time when common was his Sight. But I could not reach the Existence' secrets Though I made the world beautiful with my Intellect In the end as my materialistic eye opened I found Him lodged in my own heart. An Ode To India Better than the whole world is this India of ours We are its nightingales, it is the garden of ours If we are in foreign lands our hearts think of the homeland Consider us present where this heart of ours is present The highest mountain, touching the sky It is our sentinel, it is our watchman Thousands of rivers are playing in its lap are playing Which make this garden of ours to be the world's envy O, The River Gangaas waters!

In the world there is no confidante of ours How would anyone know the hidden pathos of ours. The Fire-Fly The fire-fly's light is shining in the garden's abode Or a candle is lighted in the assembly of flowers?

Has some star flown down from the sky? Or has a moon's ray been brought to life? Or the emissary of the day has come to the night's kingdom? Has become prosperous in foreign land was unknown in homeland Has some button fallen from the cloak of the moon?

Or some speck has become prominent in the sun's shirt? Was it the concealed glimpse of the Eternal Beauty? It is blooming in the flower bud This moon in the sky is the poet's heart so to say It is moonlight there what here the prick of pathos is The manners of speech have deceived us, otherwise Song is nightingale's fragrance, flower's fragrance is its song Concealed in plurality is the secret of the Unity What is fire-fly's brightness is flower's fragrance Why should this difference be occasion for dissensions?

When the Primeval Day's silence be concealed in everything. And should I abandon this service of conveying dawn's message? For me the height of the world of stars is not good For me lowliness of earth's denizens is better than this height What is the sky?

Is the uninhabited homeland of mine The tattered skirt of the morning is my shroud My destiny is dying and being born every day Drinking morning draft of wine from the hand of death's cup-bearer This service, this honor, this elegance is not good Darkness is better than this ephemeral illumination If I had the power, I would have never become a planet I would have become the shining pearl in the ocean's depth There also if I would have become weary of the waves' struggle Leaving the ocean I would have become some neck's decoration The pleasure of brightness is in being some beauty's ornament In being the ornament of the crown of the princess of Caesar As the fortune of a piece of stone gained ascendancy It did not stop short of being jewel of Sulaiman's ring But breaking is the end of such things in the world Breaking is the end of the invaluable pearls Real life is the one which is not acquainted with death What good is the life in which there is demand of death?

If this is the end of being the decoration of the universe Why should I not fall as dew on some flower? Although he is true throughout to Islam, www. The Rumuz-e-Bekhudi complements the emphasis on the self in the Asrar-e-Khudi and the two collections are often put in the same volume under the title Asrar-e-Rumuz Hinting Secrets.

It is addressed to the world's Muslims. Goethe bemoans the West having become too materialistic in outlook, and expects the East will provide a message of hope to resuscitate spiritual values.

Iqbal styles his work as a reminder to the West of the importance of morality, religion and civilization by underlining the need for cultivating feeling, ardour and dynamism. He explains that an individual can never aspire to higher dimensions unless he learns of the nature of spirituality. In his first visit to Afghanistan, he presented his book "Payam-e Mashreq" to King Amanullah Khan in which he admired the liberal movements of Afghanistan against the British Empire.

In , he was officially invited to Afghanistan to join the meetings regarding the establishment of Kabul University. In Gulshan-e-Raz-e-Jadeed, Iqbal first poses questions, then answers them with the help of ancient and modern insight, showing how it affects and concerns the world of action. Bandagi Nama denounces slavery by attempting to explain the spirit behind the fine arts of enslaved societies.

Here as in other books, Iqbal insists on remembering the past, doing well in the present and preparing for the future, while emphasising love, enthusiasm and energy to fulfill the ideal life. Iqbal's work, the Javed Nama Book of Javed is named after and in a manner addressed to his son, who is featured in the poems.

It follows the examples of the works of Ibn Arabi and Dante's The Divine Comedy, through mystical and exaggerated depictions across time. Iqbal depicts himself as Zinda Rud "A stream full of life" guided by Rumi, "the master," through various heavens and spheres, and has the honour of approaching divinity and coming in contact with divine illuminations. In a passage re-living a historical period, Iqbal condemns the Muslim who were instrumental in the defeat and death of Nawab Siraj-ud-Daula of Bengal and Tipu Sultan of Mysore respectively by betraying them for the benefit of the British colonists, and thus delivering their country to the shackles of slavery.

At the end, by addressing his son Javid, he speaks to the young people at large, and provides guidance to the "new generation.

He says in one of his poems: The poems he wrote up to , the year Iqbal left for England imbibe patriotism and imagery of landscape, and includes the Tarana-e-Hind The Song of India , popularly known as Saare Jahan Se Achcha and another poem Tarana-e-Milli [Anthem of the Muslim Community], The second set of poems date from between and when Iqbal studied in Europe and dwell upon the nature of European society, which he emphasized had lost spiritual and religious values.

This inspired Iqbal to write poems on the historical and cultural heritage of Islamic culture and Muslim people, not from an Indian but a global perspective.

Iqbal urges the global community of Muslims, addressed as the Ummah to define personal, social and political existence by the values and teachings of Islam.

The works of this period were often specifically directed at the Muslim masses of India, with an even stronger emphasis on Islam, and Muslim spiritual and political reawakening.

Published in , the Bal-e-Jibril Wings of Gabriel is considered by many critics as the finest of Iqbal's Urdu poetry, and was inspired by his visit to Spain, where he visited the monuments and legacy of the kingdom of the Moors. It consists of ghazals, poems, quatrains, epigrams and carries a strong sense religious passion.

Again, Iqbal depicts Rumi as a character and an exposition of the mysteries of Islamic laws and Sufi perceptions is given. Iqbal laments the dissension and disunity among the Indian Muslims as well as Muslim nations. Musafir is an account of one of Iqbal's journeys to Afghanistan, in which the Pashtun people are counseled to learn the "secret of Islam" and to "build up the self" within themselves.

The first part contains quatrains in Persian, and the second part contains some poems and epigrams in Urdu. The Persian quatrains convey the impression as though the poet is travelling through the Hijaz in his imagination.

Profundity of ideas and intensity of passion are the salient features of these short poems. Iqbal's vision of mystical experience is clear in one of his Urdu ghazals which was written in London during his days of studing there. Some verses of that ghazal are: The lion who had emerged from the desert and had toppled the Roman Empire is As I am told by the angels, about to get up again from his slumbers. You the dwelles of the West, should know that the world of God is not a shop of yours.

Your imagined pure gold is about to lose it standard value as fixed by you. Your civilization will commit suicide with its own daggers. In which, he discussed about the Persian ideology and Islamic sufism in the way of his view that real Islamic sufism activates the awkward soul to superior idea of life. He also discussed philosophy, God and the meaning of prayer, human spirit and Muslim culture, political, social and religious problems.

I advise you to guard against atheism and materialism.

The biggest blunder made by Europe was the separation of Church and State. This deprived their culture of moral soul and diverted it to the atheistic materialism. I had twenty-five years ago seen through the drawbacks of this civilization and therefore had made some prophecies. They had been delivered by my tongue although I did not quite understand them. This happened in After six or seven years, my prophecies came true, word by word.

The European war of was an outcome of the aforesaid mistakes made by the European nations in the separation of the Church and the State". Final years and death In , after returning from a trip to Spain and Afghanistan, Iqbal began suffering from a mysterious throat illness. He spent his final years helping Chaudhry Niaz Ali Khan establish the Dar ul Islam Trust Institute at the latter's Jamalpur estate near Pathankot, an institution where studies in classical Islam and contemporary social science would be subsidised, and advocating the demand for an independent Muslim state.

Iqbal ceased practising law in and he was granted pension by the Nawab of Bhopal. In his final years he frequently visited the Dargah of famous Sufi Hazrat Ali Hujwiri in Lahore for spiritual guidance. After suffering for months from his illness, Iqbal died in Lahore on 21 April His tomb is located in Hazuri Bagh, the enclosed garden between the entrance of the Badshahi Mosque and the Lahore Fort, and official guards are maintained there by the Government of Pakistan. Iqbal is commemorated widely in Pakistan, where he is regarded as the ideological founder of the state.

His Tarana-e-Hind is a song that is widely used in India as a patriotic song speaking of communal harmony. His birthday is annually commemorated in Pakistan as Iqbal Day, a national holiday. Government and public organizations have sponsored the establishment of colleges and schools dedicated to Iqbal, and have established the Iqbal Academy to research, teach and preserve the works, literature and philosophy of Iqbal.

Allama Iqbal Stamps Society established for the promotion of Iqbaliyat in philately and in other hobbies. Javaid Manzil was the last residence of Allama Iqbal. Prose book 1. Ilm ul Iqtisad Poetic books in Persian 1. Asrar-i-Khudi 2. Rumuz-i-Bekhudi 3. Payam-i-Mashriq 4. Zabur-i-Ajam 5. Javid Nama 6.

Bang-i-Dara 2. Bal-i-Jibril 3. Zarb-i Kalim www. One glance of guide such joy and warmth can grant, On marge of stream can bloom the tulip plant. One has no comrade on Love's journey long Save fervent zeal, and passion great and strong. O God, at gates of rich I do not bow, You are my dwelling place and nesting bough. Your Love, makes me God, fret with pain and pine, You are the only quest and aim of mine.

Without You town appears devoid of life, When present, same town appears astir with strife. For wine of gnosis I request and ask, To get some dregs I break the cup and glass. The mystics' gourds and commons' pitchers wait For liquor of your Grace and Bounty great. Both verse and wisdom indicate the way Which longing face to face can not convey. It freshens and renews life's inner meaning; An illumined soul can be a shepherd's, who Could hear the Voice of God at God's command.

This poem has been written in the Mosque of Cordoba. Allama Muhammad Iqbal www. N aur bhii hai. N saika. N ab mere raazadaa. I am remote from my valley, To me you are the Burning Bush of Sinai! You are a houri of the Arabian Desert, Nursed by the Western breeze.

I feel homesick in exile, You feel homesick in exile: Prosper in this strange land! May the morning dew quench your thirst! The world presents a strange sight: The vision's mantle is torn apart— May valour struggle with the waves if it must, The other side of the river is not to be seen! Life owes itself to the heat of one's soul: Flame does not rise from dust. The Syrian evening's fallen star Shined brighter in the exile's dawn.

There are no frontiers for the Man of Faith, He is at home everywhere. The following Urdu poem is a liberal translation the tree mentioned here was planted in Madinatut Zahra Allama Muhammad Iqbal www. N merii saadagii dekh kyaa chaahataa huu.

The Secrets of the Self (Asrar-i Khudi) — A Philosophical Poem by Iqbal

N ye jannat mubaarak rahe zaahido. N huu. N ai ahal-e-mahafil chiraaG-e-sahar huu. N, bujhaa chaahataa huu. N bharii bazm me. Daa be-adab huu. N, sazaa chaahataa huu. N Allama Muhammad Iqbal www. N baaqii nahii. A Thinker Secondly, Iqbal is admired as the exponent of metaphysics based on Islam. People recognize in him a thinker whose revaluation of Islamic thought has given the Muslim Community a new sense of purpose in life.

The success wit which he used his poetry as vehicle of his metaphysics adds to his feeling of admiration for him. Finally, independently of his poetry and his meta physics, Iqbal is honoured and remembered gratefully who propounded the idea of Pakistan in a form intelligible to the common man. It is difficult for us who are so close to him in time to disentangle the three sentiments of which i have spoken.

Each of them helps sustain and strengthen the other. Posterity may judge him someone differently but we do not have the sense of perspective which would enable us to asses Iqbal as a poet or a thinker or a political philosopher alone independently of other aspects of hi work.

Iqbal, it seems to me, occupies in the world of modern Islam the kind of position assigned to Dante in the history of medieval Christianity. Iqbal provides a poetic interpretation of Islam as understood today, particularly in the Sub-continent of I India and Pakistan.

A Philosopher Iqbal was also a philosopher and political thinker in form the point of view of his poetry only an accident. But it is an accident which gives us, the Pakistanis, additional cause for gratitude to him.

I am not a Philosopher my self and do not consider myself competent to express judgement on the purely technical aspects of his work as a philosopher. For here alone is an attempt by an eminent thinker to explain Islam in term of modern thought.

As we are all aware, no religion can command the assent of enlightened men and women in any age unless it can be proved and seen to have some validity in the light of contemporary philosophy.

Iqbal appears to have been the only Muslim of our times who not only understood the implications of this problem, but who attempted a solution. The "Reconstruction of Religious Thought In Islam" is bound to survive a germinal work which will colour the thinking of the entire generation of the present day Muslims. This is not to say that Iqbal Ideas are universally accepted. I can imagine people disagreeing which certain aspects of his political and religious thought.

No one in philosophy can be expected either to be absolutely right or to be absolutely acceptable. AnticipationIt is quite likely that as our society grows it will demand the right to examine each problem afresh. Iqbal's true greatness from this point of view lies in the fact that he has able to anticipate the lines on which Muslim society was destined to develop in modern times.

Finally, as a Pakistani citizen i have reason to be grateful to Iqbal as the man who gave us the idea and vision of Pakistan. The idea could have come from a statesman or a political philosopher only, but Iqbal who was simultaneously a poet, a philosopher and a political thinker, was able to invest it with prestige that it would initially have lacked without its background.

He, therefore, lives in our history as the real father of Pakistani nationalism and the tributes paid to him each year are only an expression of the nation,s gratitude to the man who gave it a new sense of purpose and destiny. O rampart of the realm of India! Are you like a theatre stage? How the cloud is swaying in excessive joy The cloud like an unchained elephant is speeding. O Himalah! O Imagination! Bring back that period O Vicissitudes of Time speed backwards.

How I stared at the moon for long hours Staring at its silent journey among broken clouds I would ask repeatedly about its mountains and plains And how surprised would I be at that prudent lie My eye was devoted to seeing; my lip was prone to speak My heart was no less than inquisitiveness personified.

What has befallen the land of India! Does another gem like him also lie concealed in you? 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!

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". You are neither wise, nor intelligent! It is strange when the insignificant pose as important! When the stupid ones like you pose as intelligent!

You are no match in comparison with my splendor Even the earth is low compared with my splendor The grandeur of mine does not fall to your lot The poor animal cannot equal the great mountain! These are immature thoughts; expel them from your heart! I do not care if I am not large like you! You are not a little thing like me Everything shows the Omni-potence of God Some large, some small, is the wisdom of God He has created you large in the world And He has taught me climbing large trees You are unable to walk a single step Only large size!

What other greatness have you? If you are large show me some of the skills I have Show me how you break this beetle nut as I can Nothing is useless in this world Nothing is bad in God's creation. May like the candle be the life of mine! May the world's darkness disappear through the life of mine! May every place light up with the sparkling light of mine! May my homeland through me attain elegance?

As the garden through flowers attains elegance May my life like that of the moth be, O Lord! May I love the lamp of knowledge, O Lord!

May supportive of the poor my life's way be May loving the old, the suffering my way be O God! Protect me from the evil ways Show me the path leading to the good ways My longing comes to my lips as supplication of mine O God! May my homeland through me attain elegance As the garden through flowers attains elegance May my life like that of the moth be, O Lord! Protect me from the evil ways Show me the path leading to the good ways.

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 Perched on the branch of a tree Was a nightingale sad and lonely?

Darkness has enveloped everything"? Where have you come leaving me there? Restless due to separation I am Weeping every day forever I am You did not care even a little for me What loyalty you showed, you left me"! Your tears have extinguished this"!

The Secrets of the Self (Asrar-i Khudi) — A Philosophical Poem by Iqbal

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 O God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe? I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe! 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.

Wait and let me rest awhile And let me shed a few tears at this habitation O those steeped in a swoon, "Where are you? Tell me something of the land where you live Is that world also one of prevarication? Is that world also one of denizens' struggle? Is Man engulfed by sorrow in that land also? Is Man's heart suppressed and helpless in that land also? Does the moth burn itself in candle's love in that land also?

Does the tale of flower and nightingale exist in that garden also? In this world a single hemistich perturbs the heart Does there also the warmth of verse soften the heart? This world's relations and alliances life's woes are Are similar sharp thorns present in that garden also? The daily bread and a million calamities this world has Does the soul freedom from anxieties in that world has?

Are the thunder, the farmer, the harvest there also? Are the caravan and the robber's fear there also? Do birds collect bits of straw for nests there also? Is the search for bricks and clay for house there also? Are the humans unaware of their reality there also? Like this world is there no sympathy in that world also? Does the Paradise a garden or a restful mansion constitute? Or does the Eternal Beauty's Unveiled Face it constitute? Does hell a method of burning away sins constitute?

Or it in flames of fire a way of discipline constitute? Has walking given way to speedy flying in that world? What is the secret of what is called death by denizens of this world? Life eases the heart's restlessness in this world Is human knowledge also restricted in that world? Does the separated heart get satisfaction by sight there also?

Are "Lan Tarani" saying the Turs of that land also Does the soul get solace in longing there also? Is man a victim of desire to learn there also?

Is that land also filled with darkness? Or with Love's light is completely illuminated? Tell us what the secret under this rotating dome is Death a pricking sharp thorn in the human breast is.

The Candle and the Moth O Candle! Why does the moth love you? Why is this restless soul devoted to you? Your charm keeps it restless like mercury Did you teach it the etiquette of Love? It circumambulates the site of your manifestation Is it inspired with the fire of your lightning? Do the woes of death give it the peace of life?

Does your flame possess the quality of eternal life? This small insect and the Longing for the Light! 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!

Fragrance in flower, ecstasy in wine is created by this alone! It is not clear whether the beloved or the Lover am I? I am afraid the old secret may come up to my lips again Lest story of suffering on the Cross may come up again. I have become weary of human assemblages!

When the heart is sad no pleasure in assemblages can be I seek escape from tumult, my heart desires The silence which speech may ardently love! The star from sky like a spurious picture has been removed! When from the roof of the sky your beauty appears Effect of sleep's wine suddenly from eyes disappears Perception's expanse gets filled with light Though opens only the material eye your light The spectacle which the eyes seek is desired The effulgence which would open the insight is desired The desires for freedom were not fulfilled in this life We remained imprisoned in chains of dependence all life The high and the low are alike for your eye I too have longing for such a discerning eye May my eye shedding tears in sympathy for others' woes be!

May my heart free from the prejudice of nation and customs be! May my tongue be not bound with discrimination of color May mankind be my nation, the whole world my country be May secret of Nature's organization clear to my insight be May smoke of my imagination's candle rising to the sky be May search for secrets of opposites not make me restless!

May the Love-creating Beauty in everything appear to me! May no thought in my mind except human sympathy be! If you cannot endure the hardships of the tumultuous world O the Great Luminary that is not the mark of greatness! As you are not aware of your world-decorating beauty You cannot be equal to a speck of dust at the Man's door! The light of Man eager for the Spectacle ever remained And you obligated to the tomorrow's morning ever remained Longing for the Light of the Truth is only in our hearts Abode of Lailah of desire for search is only in this litter Opening of the difficult knot, Oh what a pleasure it is!

The pleasure of universal gain in our endless effort is! Your bosom is unacquainted with the pain of investigation You are not familiar with searching of the secrets of Nature. 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 drop 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!

Has the sky stolen the ear ring of the evening's bride? Or has the fragile cord in the Nile's waters strolling? Your caravan is afoot without help of bell's call The human ear cannot hear your foot-steps' sound You show the spectacle of rise and fall to the eyes Where is your home? To which country are you going?

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O star-like planet take me with yourself The prick of Longing's thorn keeps me restless I am seeking light, I am weary in this habitation I am the restless child in the existence's school. I do not want to encounter the face of yours" Hearing this said the angel of death "My work is clear, I am the angel of death I shatter the chattels of existence I extinguish the spark of life The magic of annihilation is in my eyes The message of destruction is its symbol But there is one entity in the Universe It is fire, I am only mercury before it It lives in the human heart as a spark It is the darling of the Divine Light It constantly drips as tears from the eyes The tears whose bitterness is tolerable" When Love heard this from the death's lips , Laughter started appearing from its lips The thunder of such smile descended on death How can darkness stay in front of such light?

On seeing eternity to death it fell Death it was, to death it fell. The Poet A nation is the body, people are its organs Artisans are the nation's hands and feet The State administration is the nation's beautiful face The elegant-styled poet is the nation's clear-sighted eye When any organ is afflicted with pain, the eye weeps How sympathetic to the world body is the eye, THE HEART Tales of gallows and crucifixion are mere child's play for the Heart The request of Arin is only the title of the story of the Heart O Lord!

How powerful the full cup of that wine would be? The Way to eternity is each single line on the measuring cup of the Heart O Lord! Was it the cloud of mercy or the thunderbolt of Love When the life's crop got burned down, sprouted the seed of the Heart You would have got the Beauty's bountiful treasure O Farhad!

Envy of a thousand prostrations is one slip of the Heart It changes the heap of earth into elixir Such is the power of the ashes of the Heart It gains freedom after being caught in the net of Love On being thunder-struck greens up the tree of the Heart.

The Ocean Wave My impatient heart keeps me relentlessly restless Like mercury agitation is the essence of life to me Wave is my name, the sea is fordable to me The whirlpool's circle would never be a chain to me My steed speeds in the water like wind The fishing tackle has never caught my skirt Sometimes I jump up due to attraction of the full moon Sometimes in excitement, I strike my head on the shore I am the traveler who loves destination Someone should ask me why I always jump Fleeing from the discomfort of the narrow river I am Upset by separation from the ocean's vastness I am.

I have not found that Yusuf in your market place The perplexed eye for another scene is searching As storm-stricken my eye for coast is searching Leaving your garden like fragrance I am going Farewell!

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O worldly company I am going to the homeland I have made my home in the quietness of the mountain side Ah! I do not get this pleasure in conversation's music!

Associate of Nargis-i-Shahlah, and rose's companion I am The garden is my homeland, nightingale's associate I am The sound of the spring's music lulls me to sleep The morning cuckoo from the green carpet wakes me up Everyone in the world assemblage social life likes The poet's heart but the solitude's corner likes I am verged on lunacy by being perturbed in habitations For whom I am searching, roaming in the mountain valleys?

Whose love makes me roam in the meadows?Your charm keeps it restless like mercury Did you teach it the etiquette of Love? At the end, by addressing his son Javid, he speaks to the young people at large, and provides guidance to the "new generation. Has become prosperous in foreign land was unknown in homeland Has some button fallen from the cloak of the moon?

Hear Thou, O God! Your Love, makes me God, fret with pain and pine, You are the only quest and aim of mine. A droplet of the lifeblood Transforms a piece of dead rock into a living heart; An impressive sound, into a song of solicitude, A refrain of rapture or a melody of mirth.

Allama Muhammad Iqbal: an inspiration for young Muslims at all times and places

Collectively they were subjected to the worst kind of humiliations. The mystics' gourds and commons' pitchers wait For liquor of your Grace and Bounty great. Iqbal's work, the Javed Nama Book of Javed is named after and in a manner addressed to his son, who is featured in the poems.

BERNARDA from Evansville
I relish reading books generously. See my other articles. I have always been a very creative person and find it relaxing to indulge in pankration.
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