Allama Muhammad Iqbal Poems

The succession of day and night
Is the architect of events.
The succession of day and night
Is the fountain-head of life and death.
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Spain! You are the trustee of the Muslim
blood:
In my eyes you are sanctified like the Harem.
Prints of prostration lie hidden in your dust,
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Whatever comes out of the heart is effective
It has no wings but has the power of flight

It has holy origins, it aims at elegance
It rises from dust, but has access to the celestial world
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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!
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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
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O Candle! Why does the moth love you?
Why is this restless soul devoted to you?

Your charm keeps it restless like mercury
Did you teach it the etiquette of Love?
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In my breast,
A wail of grief,
Without any spark or flash,
Alone survives,
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You are not familiar with the hardships of solving enigmas
O Beautiful Rose! Perhaps you do not have sublime feelings in your heart
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O withered rose! How can I still call you a rose?
How can I call you the longing of nightingale's heart?

Once the zephyr's movement was your rocking cradle
In the garden's expanse joyous rose was your name
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Perched on the branch of a tree
Was a nightingale sad and lonel
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