Allama Iqbal's Poetry
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The Gift of Hijaz-Urdu

Content

The Devil’s Conference
The Advice Of An Old Baluch To His Son
Painting and the Painter
The State Of Barzakh
A Deposed Monarch
Litany of the Damned
The Late Masud
A Voice from Beyond
Quatrains
What fruit will the bough of my hope bear–
Set him free of this world’s affairs
Upset this world of morn and eve,
My poor estate makes proud men covetous,
Rescue me please from wisdom’s narrowness
Iqbal said to the Shaykh of the Ka‘bah:
The old flame of desires has grown cold
The talk of Muslim is interesting,
The clairvoyance of the zephyr
Of love and losing what words need be said?
Why is there no storm in your sea?
If with the heart’s eye the intellect would see aright
Sometimes by rising from the ocean like a wave
The Poetic Notebook of Mullazade Zaigham of Laulab
Your springs and lakes with water pulsating and quivering...
Harder than death is what thou call’st slavery,
Downtrodden and penniless is Kashmir now;
When the enslaved people’s rage boils and they rise in...
The partridge flies with the majesty of the falcons;
The dissolute know the Sufi’s accomplishments
Come out of the monastery and play the role of Shabbir
Thou think’st it a mere drop of blood; well
When flowers’ bookshop opened in the garden
The freeman’s veins are firm as veins of granite
All of the self dwell ignorant, whether by Light touched...
Nations in whom life marches to action
It is the sign of living nations
How heretically do you play the game of life?
The ways of the West are calculating, the ways of the East...
O land of charming and sweet flowers what need is there to...
Self-awareness has made the mujahid forget his body,
Nourish that lofty will and burning heart,
I walk lonely the earth; hear my lament,
To Sir Akbar Hyderi the Chief Minister Of Hyderabad Deccan
Husain Ahmad
The Human Being

Painting and the Painter

Painting
Said the portrait to its Painter:
“My manifestation attests to Thine unbounded Skill;
And yet what a violation of justice it is that
Thou shouldst remain hid from my sight!
The Painter
The vision endowed to those that observe find it oppressive:
See for thyself how the spark burnt itself out when it saw the world!
What aught is sight but sadness, gloom, feverishness and self-torment:
Rest, or thou ignorant (of the mysteries), upon report.
The Portrait
What aught is report but the impotence of ratiocination and wisdom?
Vision is the eternal springtide of life.
The hustle and the bustle of the present age does not permit one
To express oneself melodiously.
The Painter
Thou doth exist because the Perfection of My Art.
Do not, then, feel cast out in disappointment with Him that hath drawn thee.
I only put one condition if thou wishest to see Me:
Never disappear from thine own sight.

Translated by: Kamal M. Habib
Painting and the Painter

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