پریدم در فضای دلپذیرشپرم تر گشت از ابر مطیرش
I fly in the airy lovelier space,My wings are getting wet from clouds I face.
حرم تا در ضمیر من فرو رفتسرودم آنچہ بود اندر ضمیرش
I found in my conscience the Harem’s mould,Since on my conscience that song had a hold.
From Armaghan-e-Hijaz (Persian) (1938) by Allama Muhammad Iqbal · verified text, Iqbal Academy Pakistan
