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Gabriel’s Wing |
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Content
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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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