First Date Tree Saeeded By Abdul Rahman The Firs
You are the apple of my eye,
My heart's delight:
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.
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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A Mountain and A Squirrel
A mountain was saying this to a squirrel
'Commit suicide if you have self-respect
You are insignificant, still so arrogant, how strange!
You are neither wise, nor intelligent! not even shrewd!
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! '
On hearing this the squirrel said, 'Hold your tongue!
These are immature thoughts, expel them from your heart!
I do not care if I am not large like you!
You are not a pretty little thing like me
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The Colorful Rose
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?
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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A Mother's Dream
As I slept one night I saw this dream
Which further increased my vexation
I dreamt I was going somewhere on the way
Dark it was and impossible to find the way
Trembling all over with fear I was
Difficult to take even a step with fear was
With some courage as I forward moved
I saw some boys as lined in nice array
Dressed in emerald-like raiment they were
Carrying lighted lamps in their hands they were
They were going quietly behind each other
No one knew where they were to go
Involved in this thought was I
When in this troupe my son saw I
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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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
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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A Prayer
My invocations are sincere and true,
They form my ablutions and prayers due.
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 in my breast burns like Doomsday
morn,
The cry, He is God, on my lips is born.
Your Love, makes me God, fret with pain and
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Pathos Of Love
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
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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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
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The One I Was Searching For On the Earth and in Heaven
The one I was searching for on the earth and in heaven
Appeared residing in the recesses of my own heart
When the reality of the self became evident to my eyes
The house appeared among residents of my own heart
If it were somewhat familiar with taste of rubbing foreheads
The stone of Ka’ba’s threshold would have joined the foreheads
O Majnun! Have you ever glanced at yourself
That like Layla you are also sitting in the litter
The months of the union continue flying like moments
But the moments of separation linger for months!
O seaman, how will you protect me from being drowned
As those destined to drowning get drowned in the boats also
The one who concealed His Beauty from Kalim Allah
The same Beloved is manifest among beloveds
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A Longing
O Lord! 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!
I vehemently desire silence, I strongly long that
A small hut in the mountain's side may there be
Freed from worry I may live in retirement
Freed from the cares of the world I may be
Birds chirping may give the pleasure of the lyre
In the spring's noise may the orchestra's melody be
The flower bud bursting may give God's message to me
Showing the whole world 1 to me this small wine-cup may be
My arm may be my pillow, and the green grass my bed be
Putting the congregation to shame my solitude's quality be
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poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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