کف خاکی برگ و سازم برہی فشانم او رابہ امید اینکہ روزی بفلک رسانم او را
A hand of dust is all I own; I scatter it upon the way,Because I hope that on a day. It shall ascend to heaven’s throne.
چہ کنم چہ چارہ گیرم کہ ز شاخ علم و دانشندمیدہ ہیچ خاری کہ بدل نشانم او را
What strategem have I, what art? For on the branch of wisdom’s treeNo thorn has ever sprung for me. That I might thrust into my heart.
دہد آتش جدائی شرر مرا نمودیبہ ہمان نفس بمیرم کہ فرونشانم او را
The fires of separation give. A brief effulgence to my flame,And when I would damp down the same, That very breath I no more live.
می عشق و مستی او نرود برون ز خونمکہ دل آنچنان ندادم کہ دگر ستانم او را
Let it not vanish from my vein, The wine and drunkenness of love;I suffer none triumph of. My heart, to take it back again.
تو بہ لوح سادۂ من ھمہ مدعا نوشتیدگر آنچنان ادب کن کہ غلط نخوانم او را
Upon the tablets thou didst write. The argument entire and whole;And now, so discipline my soul. That I may read the script aright.
بحضور تو اگر کس غزلی ز من سرایدچہ شود اگر نوازی بہ ھمین کہ دانم او را
If in thy presence one ghazel. I ever made be sung to thee,What would it cost, the courtesy. To whisper, ‘Yes, I know him well’?
From Zabur-e-Ajam (1927) by Allama Muhammad Iqbal · verified text, Iqbal Academy Pakistan
