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Gabriel’s Wing |
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| Arise in order that we may make the order of the sun’s... | | The heart of a diamond can be cut by the leaf of a flower; | | My epiphany of passion causes commotion in the precinct of... | | All potent wine is emptied of Thy cask; | | If the stars have strayed—To whom do the heavens belong,... | | Bright are Your tresses: brighten them even more: | | Make our hearts the seats of mercy and love, | | Whether or not it moves you, at least listen to my... | | Give to the youth my sighs of dawn; | | What avails love when life is so ephemeral? | | My scattered dust charged with Love The shape of heart may... | | Thy world the fish’s and the winged thing’s bower; | | Contrary runs our planet, the stars whirl fast, oh Saki! | | Due to Thy benevolence, I am not without merit, | | Set out once more that cup, that wine, oh Saki— | | He is the essence of the Space as well as the Placeless... | | My Saki made me drink the wine of There is no god but He: | | At times, Love is a wanderer who has no home, | | Slow fire of longing—wealth beyond compare; | | Love, sometimes, is the solitude of Nature; | | Have You forgotten then my heart of old, | | Grant me the absorption of the souls of the past, | | By dint of Spring the poppy-cup, with vintage red is... | | I learnt from Abul Hasan: | | Mine ill luck the same and same, O Lord, the coldness on... | | This reason of mine knows not good from evil; | | Methought my racing field lay under the skies, | | To be God is to have charge of land and sea; | | Reason is either luminous, or it seeks proofs; | | This Adam—is he the sovereign of land and sea? | | Lovely, oh Lord, this fleeting world; but why | | All Nature’s vastness cannot contain you, oh | | Who is this composer of ghazals, who is burningly... | | The breath of Gabriel if God on me bestow, | | Fabric of earth and wind and wave! Who is the secret, you... | | Thou art yet region-bound, transcend the limits of space; | | The free by dint of faqr Life’s secrets can disclose: | | Hill and vale once more under the poppy’s lamps are... | | Muslims are born with a gift to charm, to persuade; | | Through Love the song of Life Begets its rhythmic flow: | | Of passion’s glow your heart is blank, Your glances are... | | A host of peril though you face, Yet your tongue with... | | Rely on the witness of the phenomenal world | | These Western nymphs A challenge to the eye and the heart, | | A heart awake to man imparts Umar’s brains and Hyder’s... | | In the coquetry and fierceness of the self there is no... | | A recreant captain, a battle-line thrown back, | | At London, winter wind, like sword, was biting though, | | The ancient fane in which we live Has heaps of thorns at... | | The way to renounce is To conquer the earth and heaven; | | Though reason to the portal guide, | | The self of man is ocean vast, And knows no depth or bound: | | The morning breeze has whispered to me a secret, | | Thy vision and thy hands are chained, earth-bound, | | The mind can give you naught, But what with doubt is... | | The splendour of a monarch great Is worthless for the free... | | You are neither for the earth nor for the heaven: | | O Prisoner of Space! You are not far from the Placeless... | | My mind on me bestowed a thinker’s gaze, | | From the heavens comes an answer to our long cries at last: | | All life is voyaging, all life in motion, | | Every atom pants for glory: greed | | This wonder by some glance is wrought, or Fortune’s... | | What should I ask the sages about my origin: | | When through the Love man conscious grows of respect... | | Once more I feel the urge to wail and weep at dead of night: | | Devoid of passion’s roar I can exist no more: | | Nature before your mind present, | | Alas! The mullah and the priest, conduct their sermons so | | The magic old to life is brought by means of present... | | Other worlds exist beyond the stars— | | The West seeks to make life a perpetual feast; | | If self with knowledge strong becomes, Gabriel it can... | | The schools bestow no grace of fancy fine, | | Events as yet folded in the scroll of Time | | To Lover’s glowing fire and flame the mystic order has... | | Intuition in the West was clever in its power, | | O manly heart, the goal you seek is hard to gain like gem... | | A monarch’s pomp and mighty arms can never give such glee, | | On me no subtle brain though Nature spent, | | By men whose eyes see far and wide new cities shall be... | | To God the angels did complain 'Gainst Iqbal and did say | | Over the tussle of heart and head | | Arise! The bugle calls! It is time to leave! | | The Gnostic and the common throng new life have gained... | | Through many a stage the crescent goes and then at last... | | In the maze of eve and morn, o man awake, do not be lost: | | The cloisters, once the rearing place of daring men and... | | From Salman, singer sweet, this subtle point I know: | | The crown, the throne, and mighty arms by faqr are wrought... | | In my craze that knows no bound, of the Mosque I made the... | | Knowledge and reason work in manner strange, | | The rituals of the Sanctuary unsanctified! | | O wave! Plunge headlong into the dark seas, | | Am I bound by space, or beyond space? | | Confused is the nature of my love for Thee, | | I was in the solitude of selfhood lost, | | Faith, like Abraham, sits down in the fire; | | Arabian fervour has within it the Persian melodies, | | A restless heart throbs in every atom; | | I wish someone saw how I play the flute— | | Thy vision is not lofty, ethereal, | | Neither the Muslim nor his power survives; | | Distracted are thy eyes in myriad ways; | | Selfhood in the world of men is prophethood; | | The beauty of mystic love is shaped in song; | | Where is the moving spirit of my life? | | Thy bosom has breath; it does not have a heart; | | I am not a pursuer, nor a traveller, | | Pure in nature thou art, thy nature is light; | | They no longer have that passionate love— | | Not translated yet | | Dew-drops glisten on flowers that bloom in the spring; | | Conquer the world with the power of selfhood, | | A Prayer | | The mystic's soul is like the morning breeze: | | The Mosque of Cordoba | | Mu‘tamid’s Lament In Prison | | First Date Tree Seeded By Abdul Rahman the First | | That blood of pristine vigour is no more; | | Spain | | The veiled secrets are becoming manifest— | | Tariq’s Prayer | | This revolution of time is eternal; | | Lenin | | Song of the Angles | | God’s Command | | Theorizing is the infidelity of the self: | | Ecstasy | | The Moth and the Firefly | | To Javid | | Mendicancy | | Heaven and the Priest | | Church and State | | The Earth is God's | | To a Young Man | | Counsel | | Poppy of the Wilderness | | Iqbal recited once in a garden in Spring | | Sakinama | | Time | | The Angels Bid Farewell to Adam | | Adam Is Received By the Spirit of the Earth | | My nature is like the fresh breeze of morn: | | The Mentor and The Disciple | | Thy body knows not the secrets of thy heart, | | Gabriel And Iblis | | The mentor exhorted his disciples once: | | The Prayer-call | | Though I have little of rhetorician’s art, | | Love | | The Star’s Message | | To Javid | | Philosophy and Religion | | A Letter from Europe | | At Napoleon’s Tomb | | Mussolini | | A Question | | To the Punjab Peasant | | Nadir Shah of Afghanistan | | The Last Testament of Khush-hal Khan Khattak | | The Tartar's Dream | | Worlds Apart | | Abu al ‘Ala al-Ma‘arri | | Cinema | | To the Punjab Pirs | | Politics | | Faqr | | The Self | | Separation | | Monastery | | Satan’s Petition | | Blood | | Flight | | To the Headmaster | | The Philosopher | | The Eagle | | Disciples in Revolt | | The Last Will of Harun Rashid | | To the Psychologist | | Europe | | Freedom of Thought | | The Lion and the Mule | | The Ant and the Eagle |
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طارق کی دُعا(اندلس کے میدانِ جنگ میں) | یہ غازی، یہ تیرے پُر اسرار بندے
جنھیں تُو نے بخشا ہے ذوقِ خدائی
دونیم ان کی ٹھوکر سے صحرا و دریا
سِمٹ کر پہاڑ ان کی ہیبت سے رائی
دو عالم سے کرتی ہے بیگانہ دل کو
عجب چیز ہے لذّتِ آشنائی
شہادت ہے مطلوب و مقصودِ مومن
نہ مالِ غنیمت نہ کِشور کشائی
خیاباں میں ہے مُنتظر لالہ کب سے
قبا چاہیے اس کو خُونِ عرب سے | کیا تُو نے صحرا نشینوں کو یکتا
خبر میں، نظر میں، اذانِ سحَر میں
طلب جس کی صدیوں سے تھی زندگی کو
وہ سوز اس نے پایا انھی کے جگر میں
کُشادِ درِ دل سمجھتے ہیں اس کو
ہلاکت نہیں موت ان کی نظر میں
دلِ مردِ مومن میں پھر زندہ کر دے
وہ بجلی کہ تھی نعرۂ ’لَاتَذَر‘ میں
عزائم کو سینوں میں بیدار کر دے
نگاہِ مسلماں کو تلوار کر دے! |
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