Kyun Khawar Hain Mardan-e-Safa Kaish-o-Hunar Mand
Lovely, oh Lord, this fleeting world; but
Why must the frank heart, the quick brain, droop and sigh?
Dunya To Samajhti Hai Farangi Ko Khudawand
Though usury mingle somewhat with his godship,
The white man is the world’s arch‐deity;
Aur Kisht-e-Gul-o-Lala Babkhashand Ba Kharay Chand
One wisp of hay to genius You deny;
His asses graze in fields of rose and poppy:
Masjid Mein Dhara Kya Hai Bajaz Moaza-o-Pand
His Church abounds with roasts and ruby wines:
Sermons and saws are all Your mosques supply.
Taveel Se Quran Ko Bana Sakte Hain Pazand
Your laws are just, but their expositors
Bedevil the Koran, twist it awry;
Afrang Ka Har Qariya Hai Firdous Ki Manand
Your paradise no‐one has seen:
In Europe no village but with paradise can view.
Kar De Isse Ab Chand Ki Gharon Mein Nazarband
Long, long have my thoughts wandered about heaven;
Now in the moon’s blind caverns let them sty!
Khaki Hun Magar Khaak Se Rakhta Nahin Paewand
I, dowered by Nature with empyrean (celestial) essence,
Am dust—but not through dust does my way lie;
Ghar Mera Na Dilli, Na Safahan, Na Samarqand
Nor East, nor west my home,
Nor Samarkand, nor Ispahan nor Delhi; in ecstasy,
Ne Abla-e-Masjid Hun, Na Tehzeeb Ka Farzand
God‐filled, I roam, speaking what truth I see
No fool for priests, nor yet of this age’s fry.
Main Zehar-e-Halahil Ko Kabhi Keh Na Saka Qand
My folk berate me, the stranger does not love me:
Hemlock for sherbet I could never cry;
Khashaak Ke To De Ko Kahe Koh-e-Damawand
How could a weigher of truth (True Believer)
See Mount Damawand and think a common refuse‐heap as high?
Main Band’ay Momin Hun, Nahin Dana’ay Aspand
In Nimrod’s fire faith’s silent witness,
Not like mustard‐seed in the grate burned sputteringly - I am a True Momin - God's Man
Blood warm, gaze keen, right‐following, wrong‐forswearing,
In fetters free, prosperous in penury
Har Haal Mein Mera Dil-e-Be Qaid Hai Khurram
Kya Cheenay Ga Gunche Se Koi Zauq-e-Shakar Khand !
In fair of foul untamed and light of heart
Who can steal laughter from a flower’s bright eye?
Chup Reh Na Saka Hazrat-e-Yazdan Mein Bhi Iqbal
Karta Koi Iss Banda’ay Gustakh Ka Munh Band !
Will no one hush this too proud thing Iqbal
Whose tongue God’s presence‐chamber could not tie!