نگاہش پر کند خالی سبوہادواند می بہ تاک رزو ہا
His glance would fill up the empty bowl,He runs the will’s wine in vine’s veins whole.
ز طوفانی کہ بخشد رایگانیحریف بحر گردد ب جوہا
His storms and gales are a God gift free,He made a small brook, ‘rival of sea.
From Armaghan-e-Hijaz (Persian) (1938) by Allama Muhammad Iqbal · verified text, Iqbal Academy Pakistan