Gustakh Hai, Karta Hai Fitrat Ki Hina Bandi
To God the angels did complain ʹGainst Iqbal and did say
That rude and insolent is he, Nature he paints much brightly.
Rumi Hai Na Shami Hai, Kashi Na Samarqandi
Though born of mud and water, yet a god assumes to be:
Not bound to any home or land, of earthly ties is free.
Adam Ko Sikhata Hai Adaab-e-Khudawandi!
To throngs of Heaven he has taught, like man, to fret and pine.
To clay‐made man he fain would teach the wont and mode divine.