Header Ads

Allama Iqbal's Poems

Allama Iqbal's Poem

A Mother's Dream

One night while sleeping
I dreamt
Seeing which I began
To get impatient

I saw that
To a place I am going
Where everywhere was dark
And paths are not reaching

As I proceeded
With the confidence I gathered
A queue I saw
Where boys had assembled

Emerald-like garment
They were wearing
In every hand
A little lamp was burning

Without making any noise
To and fro they were moving
Lord alone knows
Where exactly were they going?

While in this thought
My son did I find
Standing in this set
And left behind.

He was at the back
'coz he was not quick.
The lamp in his hand
Was not getting burnt.

I said 'Dear One!
Remember me.
Leaving me behind,
Where have you come?

Restless I am
In your separation
Enjoining I am
A necklace of tears

To us you have showed
No concern at all
The wound once healed
Loyal you are not at all

When saw the children
My fret and fume
Turning his face
The reply came

If you are sad
When from you I separate
Neither for your lad
Is there any profit (in separation)!

Saying this, the child
For sometime remained quiet.
Then lamp in his hand held
He spoke thus:

Are you wondering,
What to this is happening?
Your tears flowing
Has barred it from burning.


Benevolence

On the bough of a tree was seated
A nightingale that was saddened

Saying that-
Over me the night is past
And in pecking day is lost!

Towards their nest
How will they (birds) reach
When the shadow of dark
Has fastened its glitch

When heard this yell and wail
Of the nightingale
Said the glowworm
In a voice so calm

With my heart and soul
To you I am of avail
So what if I am
An insect so little?

The night is dark
Why worry then?
All through your route
I will enlighten!

A torch has Allah given me
A radiant lamp has He made me

Noble are those ones indeed
Whom others find while in need!

Communism and Imperialism

The soul of both of them is impatient and restless,
Both of them know not God, and deceive mankind.
One lives by production, the other by taxation,
And man is a glass caught between two stones.
The one puts to rout science, religion, art,
The other robs the body of soul, the hand of bread.
I have perceived both drowned in water and clay,
Both bodily burnished, but utterly dark of heart.
Life means a passionate burning, an urge to make,
To cast in the dead clay the seed of heart.
Note: Iqbal says that communism is the enemy of faith, while Capitalism is the enemy of Humanity. Materialism is the belief of both of them. Life in Communism is production and that of Capitalism is Taxation.

Flattery


One day a Spider was telling a Fly
'Everyday on this route you are passing by'

But not for once did my fortune trigger
That, towards my home you never got nearer

It matters not if from strangers you abstain
But away from friends you shouldn't remain

My home if you come
That shall be my honor!
That ladder in the front
Will reach you to your friend

When heard the fly the talk of the Spider-friend
(It said) O Sire! Play this game on the ignorant

This fly is not among the foolish ones
Who goes up your ladder and never returns

Hearing this the Spider said,
"Ah! You think a traitor I am?
A fool like you will nowhere be found.

Lord knows from where you came flying?
If you remain at my home what is wrong?

Many are the things for you to see
Although a small hut it is when from outside you see

On the doors are hanging curtains very fine
On the walls are mirrors that is full of shine

Said the fly: Fine! What you say is true but,
Your home I will come not.

O Lord! Save me from such subtle discourse
Once laid on them, then I will never arise!

When listened the Spider the talk of the Fly
It thought of a plan to bring the little one nigh

A hundred things with flattery is got done
Everyone in this world is a slave when put this crown

These things did the Spider think
And said,
'Lord has given u a high rank.'

In love I am with your face
That began when I saw you at once

Your eyes are shining like diamond
Your head with a crest has Allah adorned

This beauty, this attire, this splendor, this honor
And a resurrection it is your flight in the air

Pity arose in the fly when heard this flattery
It said 'I wish not to cause you any agony'

The habit of refusing I believe is bad
To break one's heart is in fact bad!

Saying this, it flew from its place
When it came near, the Spider jumped to lay the seize

Hungry was the Spider for many days
But now sitting at home,
The fly was flown to its place!

Freedom



To my mind those
Days of past are coming
When in the garden was spring
And everyone chirping

Where is such a freedom nowadays
By their own wish one comes and goes

Wound upon my heart is going sore
As upon the tears of dew smiles the flower

That pleasant-seeming picture
That lovely-seeming figure
Prosperous by which
Was my abode

In my home is no more coming
The cry of those who're humming

Had my freedom been
In the hands of my own!

How misfortunate I am
My own home searching I am!

My friends in their nation
Laying I am in this prison

Spring's come
Buds of flowers are smiling
In this dark home
About my fate I am wailing

Who in this prison
Will my misfortune listen
I fear that in this nest
Will be my final rest

My garden since I left
This has been my state
Grief with heart is consumed
And heart with grief is consumed

Take this not as a song
O the ones who listen!
Of grief-stricken hearts
This is the sound of a plaint

Free me O warden
From this prison

I am speechless prisoner
Set me free and gain my prayer


My Homeland

The land where Chishti sounded
The message of truth
The garden where Nanak sang
The song of unity
Where the tartars
Chose to dwell
Which from Arabs
Took their hill

That is my homeland
That is my homeland

The land which the Greek
Were taken aback
From where knowledge and skill,
The world did take.
Whose truth gave its dust,
A gold-like effect.
Which in the Turks' garment
Filled with diamond

That is my homeland
That is my homeland

Shattered was the star
Which in the Persian sky
Again saw it endure
In our galaxy
From where the world heard
The voice of accord
From where the Arabian Leader
Felt coming the Cool Zephyr

That is my homeland
That is my homeland

As Sinai is to Moses the Prophet
Such is to the world our mount
Where the Ship of the Noah
Came to a halt
Whose land is so high
As a ladder to roof of sky
Living in whose surroundings
Is like the abode of paradise.

That is my homeland
That is my homeland


Our Thought is the Product of Your Teachings

Oh you, solace for us, the downtrodden,
Deliver the community from fear of death.
You destroyed Lat and Manat of old,
And revived the timeworn world.
Meditation and remembrance of man and jinn,
You are the morning, prayer of Azan.
Burning and ecstasy is from la-llah.
We made no god from quadruped,
Nor bowed low before the hermit,
Nor bend the knee before ancient gods,
Nor circumambulated round palaces of kings.
This, too, among your countless favors,
Our thought is the product of your teachings.
You remembrance the wealth of joy and ardor,
Which keeps the millet proud in poverty.
Goal and destination of every wayfarer,
Your desire is in the heart of each traveler.
Our harp, alas, has become so mute,
Plectrum is a burden upon its strings.

Prayer of A Child

On my lips is coming a wish-like prayer Lord!
May my life burn like a candle-like fire!

With my breath may the darkness depart,
With my light let every corner ignite.

Let my breath add to the beauty of my nation
Like how a flower adds to the beauty of a garden

I wish my life were a moth, O lord!
In love if I was with the flame of knowledge, O Lord!

May my task be to defend the poor
To love those who at heart are weak and sore

O My Allah! Save me from doing what is bad
On the path that is right, on that You lead!

Few More poems:
Profit for one, but Death for many
The Choice is yours
The Glory of a Woman
The Ideal Woman
The Materialistic Culture
The shrine of your street is my refuge!
The world of Body vs. World of Soul
The ultimate aim of Ego
 

Source:

No comments

Search This Blog