THE CALL OF THE CARAVAN BELL

with the highest intellectual achievements. Sheikh PREFACE Muhammad Iqbal studied many Persian books during his stay in Europe and published the results By of his studies in the form of a research publication, which should be considered a short history of the Sir `Abd Al‐Qadir, Barrister At Law, Persian philosophy. The Germans conferred upon Editor Makhzan Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal the degree of PhD on the No one knew that after the late Ghalib, someone basis of this book. The British Government, which would rise in India who would again inspire Urdu does not have adequate direct access to the oriental poetry with a new spirit and through whom the languages and learning, took a long time to realize matchless imagination and the rare imagery of the universal appreciation of Iqbal’s poetry, but Ghalib would be created anew and would lead to eventually patronized him by conferring the exalted the glorification of the Urdu literature. However, honour of knighthood. Though he is now known as Urdu was fortunate in getting a poet of Iqbal’s Dr. Sir Muhammad Iqbal which has the fortunate calibre, the superiority of whose literary elegance quality of being the real as well the pen name, is has impressed the Urdu knowing people of the better known and liked than his doctorate and whole of India and whose reputation has spread to knighthood. Iran, Asia Minor and even to Europe. There is a college in Sialkot where a renowned Ghalib and Iqbal share many common scholar, Maulvi Saiyyid Mir Hasan, who is characteristics. If I were a believer in the memorable heir to and a follower of the oriental transmigration of soul I would have certainly said scholars of former times, teaches oriental learning. that the love which Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib Recently he has been honoured by the Government had for Urdu and Persian poetry did not allow his with the title of Shams al ‘Ulema. The characteristic soul to rest in peace even in the Elysium and quality of his teaching is creation of the right taste compelled him to re‐appear in another material for Persian and Arabic in the personality of his form to render service to poetry, and was re‐born in pupils. Iqbal was also fortunate in getting a teacher a corner of Punjab, called Sialkot and was called like Saiyyid Mir Hasan in his youth. Iqbal’s Muhammad Iqbal. temperament had a natural inclination for literature. The respected father and the affectionate mother Learning Persian and Arabic from such a teacher of Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal must have proposed his added to its elegance. He started writing poetry as name at a very auspicious time, as the name given early as his school age. By then Urdu had become so by them proved to be appropriate in all its popular in Punjab that the language and its poetry connotations, and their successful son proceeded to had spread to more or less every city. During the England after completing his education in India. On student days of Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal a small achieving his educational goals at Cambridge he musha’irah used to be convened in Sialkot for which went to Germany and returned home, equipped Iqbal began writing ghazals occasionally. Nawab 124 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Mirza Khan Sahib Dagh of Delhi had gained much perceptions of his friend, the late Maulana Shibli renown as an Urdu poet in those days, and this during the period of his professorship at the Aligarh increased considerably when he became the tutor of College. Now he discovered another gem to convert the Nizam of Deccan. Those who could not go to which into a shining star became his heart‐felt him would establish tutorial relationship from afar desire. The mutual friendship and affection created by mail. Ghazals were sent to him by mail and he in the heart of the teacher and his pupil in the very returned them the same way after correction. In the beginning ultimately resulted in the latter olden days when such a mailing service did not exist proceeding to England in the wake of his teacher. a poet could not get so many pupils. With this This relationship was further strengthened there and facility hundreds of people had established has endured till the present day. Arnold is happy at discipleship with him in absentia and he had to the fruition of his labor and at his pupil being a maintain a department with staff for this purpose. source of pride and fame for him in the intellectual Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal also established world. Iqbal acknowledges that the perceptions communication with him and sent some ghazals for created by Saiyyid Mir Hasan, and advanced in the correction. In this way Iqbal established a interim by the in absentia mutual acquaintance with relationship in Urdu with a littérateur who, in his Dagh, attained their climax with the affectionate days, was considered unique in the art of linguistic guidance of Arnold. excellence in the field of ghazal. Though Iqbal’s Iqbal got very good guides in passing through ghazals of that early period did not have the his intellectual journey, and became acquainted with attributes which made his later works very famous, several renowned scholars. Distinguished among Dagh discerned the beginning of an extra‐ordinary these are Drs. McTaggart, Brown, Nicholson and writer in this student from a remote Punjab district. Sorley of the University of Cambridge. Professor Very soon he pronounced his verdict that Iqbal did Nicholson deserves our special gratitude for his not need any further coaching in the arty of poetry. efforts at introducing Iqbal to Europe and America Hence this tutorial relationship did not last long but by translating his famous Persian book, Asrar‐i‐ its memories remained on both sides. Dagh’s name Khudi (The Secrets of the Self) into English and for is so prominent in Urdu poetry that Iqbal has respect providing a preface and commentary to the same.1 even for this short period and in absentia In the same way Iqbal maintained liaison through relationship; and Iqbal had attained that high correspondence and personal contact with all the approbation even in the life‐time of Dagh that the shining stars of India’s intellectual horizon at that latter was proud of considering Iqbal among the time, such as Maulana Shibli, Maulana Hali and people whose poetry he had corrected. I had the Akbar. They continued influencing Iqbal’s writings good fortune of meeting Dagh in Deccan and I am a and Iqbal continued influencing their thought. witness to such expressions of pride by him. Maulana Shibli, in his many letters, and the revered As the Sialkot College was up to the F.A. Sheikh Akbar, in his letters as well as in poems have Muhammad Iqbal had to move to Lahore for his acknowledged Iqbal’s accomplishments. Similarly, B.A. He wanted to study philosophy and he got a Iqbal has eulogized these eminent personalities in very affectionate professor among those at Lahore, his works. who discerned Iqbal’s inclination towards Discounting the period of early practice Iqbal’s philosophy and started taking special interest in his Urdu poetry starts a little before the commencement education. Professor Arnold who is now(1924) Sir of the twentieth century. I saw him first in a Thomas Arnold and is in England, is a man of extra‐ musha’irah in Lahore two or three years before 1901. ordinary capabilities, is a proficient writer and is He had been prevailed upon by some of his well‐versed in the new methods of academic class‐mates to participate in this musha’irah and investigation and research. He wanted to impart his recite a ghazal. People of Lahore had not known perceptions and procedures to his pupil and he succeeded in this to a very large extent. Earlier, he 1 Nicholson’s translation is included in the present had been able to create maturity in the intellectual volume. The Call of the Marching Bell 125

Iqbal till then. The ghazal was a short one with Lahore. He spent his time continuously in simple words and thought but had humour and intellectual company and academic pursuits. With a spontaneity due to which it was much appreciated. surging intellect and extreme inspiration, when He participated in this musha’irah two or three times inclined towards versification, he could produce again and people discerned in him the makings of a innumerable verses in a single sitting. Absorbed in promising poet. However, this fame at first his thoughts he would pour out verses, and his remained confined to the students of the colleges of friends and some students who might be nearby, Lahore and those engaged in educational pursuits. would write them down with paper and pencil. In Meanwhile a literary association had been those days I never saw him with pen and paper in established which was attended by celebrities, and linguistic pursuits. Writing poetry looked like a created a demand for prose as well as poetry. Sheikh surging river or a bubbling spring of appropriate Muhammad Iqbal recited his poem addressing the words with a unique condition of ecstatic softness Himalayas, called ‘Himala’ in one of its meetings. engulfing him. He would himself recite his verses This poem combined the English thought with the melodiously, would become ecstatic himself as well Persian elegance of style, and had the added beauty as would turn others ecstatic. He is remarkably of the flavour of nationalism. As it conformed with singular in having such a memory that all the verses the tastes and the needs of the times it was widely constituting a continuous poem would be safe in his appreciated, and requests for its publication started memory in the same order at another time and on pouring in. But Sheikh Iqbal took it away with him another day although he had not written them down with the excuse of the need for review, and it could in the interim. I have been fortunate enough to avail not be published then. Shortly after this I planned to of the opportunity of the companionship of many start the magazine Makhzan for the advancement of poets and though I have heard and seen some of Urdu literature. By this time I had developed them producing poetry I have not seen this style in friendly relations with Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal. I any of them. Iqbal has the other peculiarity of being obtained his promise to contribute his new style unable to produce ‘made to order’ poetry in spite of poems for publication in the poetry section of this all this poetic disposition. When poetically inclined magazine. About the time of the appearance of the he can produce as many verses as he likes but it is magazine’s first issue I went to ask him for a poem. almost impossible for him to produce anything ‘to He said that he did not have any poem ready at that order’ on any occasion. For this reason, on being time. I asked him to give me the poem titled famous and on becoming flooded with requests, he ‘Himala’ and to write another poem for the next had to deny most of them. Similarly, he would month. He was reluctant to give that poem because usually pass requests for participation in he considered it to be in need of improvement. As I associations and assemblies. Only the Anjuman‐i‐ had noticed its extreme popularity I prevailed upon Himayat‐i‐Islam of Lahore, for several reasons, had him to give it to me and I published it in Makhzan, the privilege of Iqbal’s continued participation for Volume 1, No. 1, which appeared in April 1901. This several years and recitation of poems written for that was, as it were, the beginning of the public very meeting after prior thought. appearance of Iqbal’s Urdu poetry, and this In the early days the poems presented in public continued till his departure for England in 1905. meetings were recited without melody, which had During this period he wrote a poem for every issue its own charm. However, in one public meeting of Makhzan. As the news of his poetry spread far some friends insisted that Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal and wide requests started coming in from diverse read his poem melodiously. His voice is loud and magazines and newspapers. Associations and pleasing by nature and he is fully conversant with conferences also started requesting him to benefit the style of melody. It threw the audience in spell‐ the audiences of their annual meetings with his bound silence and ecstasy. This produced two poetry. results. One was that it made it difficult for him to The Sheikh having completed his education, had recite without melody, and when he recites people become a professor at the Government College, insist on melodious recital. The other is that, 126 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal whereas formerly only the select understood and Beside this, as his studies stepped into the deep appreciated his poetry, this magnet attracted the recesses of philosophy, leading to desire for the general populace also. In the meetings of the expression of subtle thoughts, he appreciated the Anjuman‐i‐Himayat‐Islam at Lahore tens of paucity of the Urdu vocabulary compared with that thousands of people assemble when Iqbal’s poem is of Persian; and in fact readymade phraseology recited and they are spell‐bound during the entire existed in Persian the equivalent of which would not recital. Those who understand him and those who be easy in Urdu. So he changed to Persian. do not are equally absorbed. However, outwardly, the small incident which led The second period of his poetry extended from him to Persian language is that once he was invited 1905 to 1908 which he spent in Europe. Though he to a friend’s house where he was asked whether he got comparatively little time there for poetry, and wrote Persian verse and was requested to recite his only a few poems were written during that stay, Persian poetry. He had to admit that he had never they exhibit a special style, based on his tried to write in Persian except an odd verse. But this observations there. Two major changes occurred in was such an occasion, and this request so moved his thinking at that time. For two of these three years him, that on return from the party perhaps he I was also living there and had the opportunity of passed the rest of the night lying in bed and framing meeting him frequently. One day Sheikh Persian verse. Getting up next morning when he met Muhammad Iqbal told me that he had firmly me he had two Persian ghazals ready, which he decided to abandon poetry, to avow never to write recited to me orally from memory. His potential for verse, and use the time he would spend on poetry writing in Persian dawned upon him through these on some other productive pursuit. I told him that his ghazals, the like of which he had not tried before. poetry was not such as should be abandoned. On Later, on his return from England, his inclination the other hand his poetry had the potential of curing turned towards Persian, though he continued to the malady of our backward nation and unfortunate write Urdu poetry also occasionally. This is the third country. Hence it would be inappropriate to waste stage of his poetry, which has continued since 1908. such a useful divinely bestowed capability. Sheikh Though many famous Urdu poems have been had only half consented, and it was agreed to leave produced during this period the really important the final decision to Mr. Arnold’s opinion. The work to which he applied himself was his famous Sheikh was to change his opinion if Mr. Arnold Persian mathnavi titled Asrar‐i‐Khudi(The Secrets of would agree with me and the reverse would be the the Self)(1915). Its thoughts revolved in his mind for case if he agreed with Sheikh. I consider it the good a long time till, at last, they started being transferred fortune of the intellectual world that Mr. Arnold from his mind to paper, and ultimately appeared as agreed with me. So it was decided that abandoning a book which made Iqbal famous even outside poetry was not proper for Iqbal, and that any time India. spent on this work would be equally useful to him To date (1924) Iqbal has produced three books in and to his country and nation. The first change Persian, viz. Asrar‐i‐Khudi (The Secret of Self) (1915), which had occurred in our poet ended like this. The Rumuz‐i‐Bekhudi (The Mysteries of Selflessness) second change started with a small beginning and (1915) and Payam‐i‐Mashriq (A Message from the led to an important end, i.e. Persian replaced Urdu East) (1923), all of which are superb. The language is as the vehicle for propagation of Iqbal’s message. progressively simpler and easier from the first Iqbal’s inclination towards Persian must have through the second to the third. Lovers of Iqbal’s been motivated by several factors, but I think his Urdu poetry may have been disappointed by the literature study while writing his monograph on appearance of these Persian books, but they must Sufism2 must have been an important one of these. remember that Persian accomplished what Urdu could not. Iqbal’s works have reached the entire 2 Sir Abdul Qadir is refering to Iqbal’s doctoral Muslim world where Persian is more or less current, thesis The Development of Metaphysics in Persia and they contain the depth of thought which needed (1908). much wide‐spread propagation. It also constituted The Call of the Marching Bell 127 the means of acquainting the Europeans and form of a beautiful book instead of being spread Americans with our worthy author. In Payam‐i‐ over the pages of magazines and anthologies. It is Mashriq the author has written a reply to the West‐ hoped that those who were anxious to see this Oestlicher Divan by the eminent European poet literary collection would view it with fondness and Goethe and beautifully expressed highly cordial appreciation. philosophical thoughts. Its verses have solved some In closing, on behalf of Urdu poetry, I would intricate enigmas which had never been explained in request the learned author to endow Urdu with the such easy terms before. Since a long time some share from his intellect, which it needs and deserves. magazines and newspapers are referring to Dr. He has himself painted the correct picture of the Muhammad Iqbal with the title of ‘Tarjuman‐i‐ state of Urdu in a verse of eulogy to Ghalib as Haqiqat’ (The Interpreter of the Truth). The follows: appropriate verses of this book establish his right to The lock of Urdu’s hair still some combing craves: be known by this title, and whoever ascribed this This candle still for the heart‐burning of a moth title to him first committed no exaggeration. craves. Iqbal’s Persian writings have influenced his Urdu poetry in the manner that the Urdu poems of After reciting this verse we request him to pay the third period have even more Persian form and attention again to adorning the hair of Urdu with elegance of style than the earlier ones and have the same ardour with which he produced the above sometimes been based upon Persian verses. It verse, and afford us the opportunity of regarding appears as if Persian thought is being assiduously this present collection of Urdu of belated appearance goaded into Urdu. to be the prelude to another Urdu collection. Many people have been calling for the [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] publication of Iqbal’s Urdu poetry which has appeared periodically in magazines and newspapers since 1901. His friends were constantly demanding publication of his Urdu poetry, but this publication had been delayed for several reasons. Thank God for ART NE the fulfilment of this long‐standing wish of the P O lovers of Urdu poetry, which has led to the BEFORE 1905 publication of this collection of Iqbal’s Urdu poems, THE HIMALAYAS comprising 336 pages, divided into three parts. Part One includes poems up to 1905, Part Two those of O Himalah! O rampart of the realm of India! the period 1905 to 1908 and Part Three has the Urdu Bowing down, the sky kisses your forehead poetry since 1908. It can be claimed that up till now Your condition does not show any signs of there is no book of Urdu poetry with such an old age abundance of thought and such a combination of You are young in the midst of day and night’s research and intrinsic qualities. This is—as was to be alternation expected—because the book is the essence of a The Kaleem of Tur Sina witnessed but one quarter century of study, research and observation, Effulgence and the experience from world‐wide travelling. For the discerning eye you are an Single verses and hemistich of some poems contain embodiment of Effulgence. material requiring the space of a dissertation for To the outward eye you are a mere mountain explaining the thought. This short preface does not range have the capacity of a critique of any poem or In reality you are our sentinel, you are India’s comparison between poems of different periods. I rampart shall look for some other opportunity for this work. You are the divan whose opening verse is the At present I want to congratulate the litterateur on sky the availability of the Urdu works of Iqbal in the 128 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

You lead Man to the solitudes of his heart’s O wayfarer! The heart comprehends your retreat music Snow has endowed you with the turban of When the night’s Layla unfurls her long hair honour The sound of water‐falls allures the heart Which scoffs at the crown of the That silence of the night whose beauty world‐illuminating sun. surpasses speech Antiquity is but a moment of your bygone age That state of silent meditation overshadowing Dark clouds are encamped in your valleys the trees Your peaks are matching with the Pleiades in That dusk’s beauty which shivers along the elegance mountain range Though you are standing on earth your abode Very beautiful looks this rouge on your is sky’s expanse cheeks. The stream in your flank is a fast flowing O Himalah! Do relate to us some stories of the mirror time For which the breeze is working like a When your valleys became abode of Man’s kerchief. ancestors The mountain top’s lightning has given a Relate something of the life without whip sophistication In the hands of cloud for the ambling horse Which had not been stained by the rouge of O Himalah! Are you like a theatre stage sophistication Which nature’s hand has made for its O Imagination! Bring back that period elements? O Vicissitudes of Time speed backwards Ah! How the cloud is swaying in excessive joy HE OLOURFUL OSE The cloud like an unchained elephant is T C R speeding. You are not familiar with the hardships of Gentle movement of the morning zephyr is solving enigmas acting like a cradle O Beautiful Rose! Perhaps you do not have Every flower bud is swinging with sublime feelings in your heart intoxication of existence Though you adorn the assembly yet do not The flower bud’s silence with the petal’s participate in its struggles tongue is saying In life’s assembly I am not endowed with this “I have never experienced the jerk of the comfort florist’s hand In this garden I am the complete orchestra of Silence itself is relating the tale of mine Longing The corner of nature’s solitude is the abode of And your life is devoid of the warmth of that mine” Longing To pluck you from the branch is not my The brook is melodiously descending from custom the high land This sight is not different from the sight of the Putting the waves of Kawthar and Tasnim to eye which can only see the appearances embarrassment Ah! O colourful rose this hand is not one of a As if showing the mirror to Nature’s beauty tormentor Now evading now rowing against the rock in How can I explain to you that I am not a its way flower picker Play in passing this orchestra of beautiful I am not concerned with intricacies of the music philosophic eye The Call of the Marching Bell 129

Like a lover I see you through the My eye was devoted to seeing, my lip was nightingale’s eye prone to speak In spite of innumerable tongues you have My heart was no less than inquisitiveness chosen silence personified What is the secret which is concealed in your IRZA HALIB bosom? M G Like me you are also a leaf from the garden of Through you the secret was revealed to the Tur human intellect Far from the garden I am, far from the garden That innumerable enigmas are solved by you are human intellect You are content but scattered like fragrance I You were the complete soul, literary assembly am was your body Wounded by the sword of love for search I You adorned as well as remained veiled from am the assembly This perturbation of mine a means for Your eye is longing to witness that veiled fulfillment could be Beauty This torment a source of my intellectual Which is veiled in everything as the pathos of illumination could be life This very frailty of mine the means of strength The assemblage of existence is rich with your could be harp This mirror of mine envy of the cup of Jam As mountain’s silence by the brook’s could be melodious harp This constant search is a world‐illuminating The garden of your imagination bestows candle glory on the universe And teaches to the steed of human intellect its From the field of your thought worlds grow gait like meadows Life is concealed in the humour of your verse THE AGE OF INFANCY Picture’s lips move with your command of The earth and sky were unknown worlds to language me Speech is very proud of the elegance of your Only the expanse of mother’s bosom was a miraculous lips world to me Thurayyah is astonished at your style’s Every movement was a symbol of life’s elegance pleasure to me Beloved of literature itself loves your style My own speech was like a meaningless word Delhi’s bud is mocking at the rose of Shiraz to me Ah! You are resting in the midst of Delhi’s During infancy’s pain if somebody made me ruins cry Your counterpart is resting in the Weimar’s The noise of the door chain would comfort me garden Oh! How I stared at the moon for long hours Matching you in literary elegance is not Staring at its silent journey among broken possible clouds Till maturity of thought and imagination are I would ask repeatedly about its mountains combined and plains Ah! What has befallen the land of India! And how surprised would I be at that Ah! The inspirer of the super‐critical eye! prudent lie The lock of Urdu’s hair still craves for combing 130 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

This candle still craves for moth’s heart‐felt I pronounced “Rise” standing by the pathos verdure’s head O Jahanabad! O cradle of learning and art I conferred the taste for smile to the rose‐bud Your entire super‐structure is a silent lament By my benevolence farmers’ huts on the The sun and the moon are asleep in every mountain side speck of your dust Are converted into bed chambers of the Though innumerable other gems are also opulent hidden in your dust PIDER AND A LY Does another world‐famous person like him A S F also lie buried in you? (Adopted for Children) Does another gem like him also lie concealed One day a spider said to a fly in you? “Though you pass this way daily THE CLOUD ON THE MOUNTAIN My hut has never been honoured by you By making a chance visit inside by you Elevation bestows the sky’s nearness to my Though depriving strangers of a visit does not abode matter I am the mountain’s cloud, my skirt sprinkles Evading the near and dear ones does not look roses good Now the wilderness, now the rose garden is My house will be honoured by a visit by you my abode A ladder is before you if you decide to step in City and wilderness are mine, ocean is mine, Hearing this the fly said to the spider, forest is mine “Sire, you should entice some simpleton thus If I want to return to some valley for the night This fly would never be pulled into your net The mountain’s verdure is my carpet of velvet Whoever climbed your net could never step Nature has taught me to be a pearl spreader down” To chant the camel song for the camel of the The spider said, “How strange, you consider Beloved of Mercy me a cheat To be the comforter of the dispirited farmer’s I have never seen a simpleton like you in the heart world To be the elegance of the assembly of the I only wanted to entertain you garden’s trees I had no personal gain in view I spread out over the face of the earth like the You have come flying from some unknown locks distant place I get arranged and adorned by the breeze’s Resting for a while in my house would not I tantalize the expecting eye from a distance harm you As I pass silently over some habitation Many things in this house are worth your As I approach strolling towards a brook’s seeing bank Though apparently a humble hut you are I endow the brook with ear rings of seeing whirlpools Dainty drapes are hanging from the doors I am the hope of the freshly grown field’s And I have decorated the walls with mirrors verdure Beddings are available for guests’ comforts I am the ocean’s offspring, I am nourished by Not to everyone’s lot do fall these comforts.” the sun The fly said, “All this may very well be I gave ocean’s tumult to the mountain spring But do not expect me to enter your house I charmed the birds into thrilling chants “May God protect me from these soft beds The Call of the Marching Bell 131

Once asleep in them getting up again is The grandeur of mine does not fall to your lot impossible” The poor animal cannot equal the great The spider spoke to itself on hearing this talk mountain!” “How to trap it? This wretched fellow is On hearing this the squirrel said, “Hold your clever tongue! Many desires are fulfilled with flattery in the These are immature thoughts, expel them world from your heart! All in the world are enslaved with flattery” I do not care if I am not large like you! Thinking this the spider spoke to the fly thus! You are not a pretty little thing like me “Madam, God has bestowed great honours on Everything shows the Omnipotence of God you! Some large, some small, is the wisdom of God Everyone loves your beautiful face He has created you large in the world Even if someone sees you for the first time And He has taught me climbing large trees Your eyes look like clusters of glittering You are unable to walk a single step diamonds Only large size! What other greatness have God has adorned your beautiful head with a you? plume If you are large show me some of the skills I This beauty, this dress, this elegance, this have neatness! Show me how you break this beetle nut as I And all this is very much enhanced by can singing in flight”. Nothing is useless in this world The fly was touched by this flattery Nothing is bad in God’s creation And spoke, “I do not fear you any more OW AND A OAT I hate the habit of declining requests A C G Disappointing somebody is bad indeed” (Adopted for Children) Saying this it flew from its place There was a verdant pasture somewhere When it got close the spider snapped it Whose land was the very picture of beauty The spider had been starving for many days How can the beauty of that elegance be The fly provided a good leisurely meal described A MOUNTAIN AND A SQUIRREL Brooks of sparkling water were running on every side (Adopted for Children from Ralph Waldo Many were the pomegranate trees Emerson) And so were the shady pipal trees A mountain was saying this to a squirrel Cool breeze flowed everywhere “Commit suicide if you have self‐respect Birds were singing everywhere You are insignificant, still so arrogant, how A goat arrived at a brook’s bank from strange! somewhere You are neither wise, nor intelligent! not even It came browsing from somewhere in the shrewd! nearby land It is strange when the insignificant pose as As she stopped and looked around important! She noticed a cow standing by When the stupid ones like you pose as The goat first presented her compliments to intelligent! the cow You are no match in comparison with my Then respectfully started this conversation splendour “How are you! Madam Cow”? Even the earth is low compared with my The cow replied, “Not too well splendour “My life is a mere existence 132 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

My life is a complete agony THE CHILD’S INVOCATION My life is in danger, what can I say? My luck is bad, what can I say? (Adopted For Children) I am surprised at the state of affairs My longing comes to my lips as supplication I am cursing the evil people of mine The poor ones like us are powerless O God! May like the candle be the life of Misfortunes surround the ones like us mine! None should nicely deal with Man May the world’s darkness disappear through May God protect us from Man! the life of mine! He murmurs if my milk declines May every place light up with the sparkling He sells me if my weight declines light of mine! He subdues us with cleverness! May my homeland through me attain Alluring, he always subjugates us! elegance I nurse his children with milk As the garden through flowers attains I give them new life with milk elegance My goodness is repaid with evil May my life like that of the moth be, O Lord! My prayer to God is for mercy!” May I love the lamp of knowledge, O Lord! Having heard the cow’s story like this May supportive of the poor my life’s way be The goat replied, “This complaint is unjust May loving the old, the suffering my way be Though truth is always bitter O God! Protect me from the evil ways I shall speak what is fair Show me the path leading to the good ways This pasture, and this cool breeze This green grass and this shade SYMPATHY Such comforts, were beyond our lot! (Adapted for Children from William Cowper) They were a far cry for us speechless poor! Perched on the branch of a tree We owe these pleasures to Man Was a nightingale sad and lonely We owe all our happiness to Man “The night has drawn near”, He was thinking We derive all our prosperity from him “I passed the day in flying around and What is better for us, freedom or bondage to feeding him? How can I reach up to the nest Hundreds of dangers lurk in the wilderness Darkness has enveloped everything”? May God protect us from the wilderness! Hearing the nightingale wailing thus We are heavily indebted to him A glow‐worm lurking nearby spoke thus Unjust is our complaint against him “With my heart and soul ready to help I am If you appreciate the life’s comforts Though only an insignificant insect I am You would never complain against Man” Never mind if the night is dark Hearing all this the cow felt embarrassed I shall shed light if the way is dark She was sorry for complaining against Man God has bestowed a torch on me She mused over the good and the bad He has given a shining lamp to me And thoughtfully she said this The good in the world only those are “Small though is the body of the goat Ready to be useful to others who are Convincing is the advice of the goat!” A MOTHER’S DREAM (Adopted For Children From William Cowper) As I slept one night I saw this dream Which further increased my vexation The Call of the Marching Bell 133

I dreamt I was going somewhere on the way May it happen that my freedom be in my own Dark it was and impossible to find the way hands now! Trembling all over with fear I was How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my Difficult to take even a step with fear was abode I am With some courage as I forward moved My companions are in the home‐land, in the I saw some boys as lined in nice array prison I am Dressed in emerald‐like raiment they were Spring has arrived, the flower buds are Carrying lighted lamps in their hands they laughing were On my misfortune in this dark house I am They were going quietly behind each other wailing No one knew where they were to go O God, To whom should I relate my tale of Involved in this thought was I woe? When in this troupe my son saw I I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe! He was walking at the back, and was not Since separation from the garden the walking fast condition of my heart is such The lamp he had in his hand was not lighted My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is Recognizing him I said “O My dear! waxing the heart Where have you come leaving me there? O Listeners, considering this music do not be Restless due to separation I am happy Weeping every day for ever I am This call is the wailing of my wounded heart You did not care even a little for me O the one who confined me make me free What loyalty you showed, you left me”! A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free As the child saw the distress in me HE NTERROGATION OF THE EAD He replied thus, turning around to me T I D “The separation from me makes you cry The bright sun is hidden, the night shows its Not least little good does this to me” face He remained quiet for a while after talking The night’s hair is spread on shoulders of the Showing me the lamp then he started talking earth “Do you understand what happened to this? This black dress is preparation for some one’s Your tears have extinguished this”! mourning Perhaps the Nature’s assemblage for the sun THE BIRD’S COMPLAINT is mourning (For Children) The sky is casting a spell over the talking lip The night’s magician is watching the I am constantly reminded of the bygone times awakened eye Those garden’s springs, those chorus of The wind current is submerged in the river of chimes silence Gone are the freedoms of our own nests However, the tolling bell’s sound comes from Where we could come and go at our own the distance pleasure Heart which in love’s turmoil is evading the My heart aches the moment I think world Of the buds’ smile at the dew’s tears Has dragged me here far from the maddening That beautiful figure, that Kamini’s form crowd Which source of happiness in my nest did I am the spectator of the spectacle of form disappointments I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage I am the associate of those sleeping in now solitude’s corner 134 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

O My restlessness! Wait and let me rest Or it in flames of fire a way of discipline awhile constitute? And let me shed a few tears at this habitation Has walking given way to speedy flying in O those steeped in a swoon, “Where are you? that world? Tell me something of the land where you live What is the secret of what is called death by Is that world also one of prevarication? denizens of this world? Is that world also one of denizens’ struggle? Life eases the heart’s restlessness in this world Is Man engulfed by sorrow in that land also? Is human knowledge also restricted in that Is Man’s heart suppressed and helpless in that world? land also? Does the separated heart get satisfaction by Does the moth burn itself in candle’s love in sight there also? that land also? Are “Lan Tarani” saying the Turs of that land Does the tale of flower and nightingale exist also in that garden also? Does the soul get solace in longing there also? In this world a single hemistich perturbs the Is man a victim of desire to learn there also? heart Ah! Is that land also filled with darkness? Does there also the warmth of verse soften the Or with Love’s light is completely heart? illuminated? This world’s relations and alliances life’s woes Tell us what the secret under this rotating are dome is Are similar sharp thorns present in that Death a pricking sharp thorn in the human garden also? breast is. The daily bread and a million calamities this [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] world has Does the soul freedom from anxieties in that MOTH AND CANDLE world has? Why is the moth your lover, O flame, Are the thunder, the farmer, the harvest there Giving life in a yielding move? also? You make its ways the quicksilver’s ways. Are the caravan and the robber’s fear there You taught it, what rites of love? also? Do birds collect bits of straw for nests there The creature circles around your flare. also? How burnt in your flash of sight! Is the search for bricks and clay for house Does it know life’s peace in the throes of there also? death? Are the humans unaware of their reality there Life endures in your ardour bright? also? Had your lustre not been in the world’s house Are they after nations’ and customs’ of woe discrimination there also The tree of hot love had not been green. Does garden not cry at the nightingale’s wail Moth sinks before you making its prayer, there also? Frail heart to feel scorching keen. Like this world is there no sympathy in that world also? It must throb like one loving the beauty of Does the Paradise a garden or a restful old: mansion constitute? Small prophet! small mountain of fire! Or does the Eternal Beauty’s Unveiled Face it The moth with its urge to envisage the flame! constitute? Poor worm, with its light’s desire! Does hell a method of burning away sins [Translated by H.T. Sorley] constitute? The Call of the Marching Bell 135

REASON AND HEART Though I exceedingly love the real closeness I am upset by the mixing of waves and the One day reason said to the heart: shore ‘I am a guide for those who are lost. The miraculous poet is like the grain from the I live on earth, but I roam the skies— barn just see the vastness of my reach. The grain has no existence if there is no barn My task in the world is to guide and lead, How can beauty unveil itself if no one is I am like Khizr of blessed steps. anxious for sight I interpret the book of life, Lighting of the candle is meaningless if there And through me Divine Glory shines forth. is no assembly You are no more than a drop of blood, Why does the taste for speech not change to While I am the envy of the priceless pearl! silence The heart listened, and then said: Why does this brilliance not appear out from ‘This is all true, my mirror But now look at me, Alas! My tongue poured its speech down And see what I am. When war’s fire had burnt the garden down You penetrate the secret of existence, But 1 see it with my eyes. THE SUN You deal With the outward aspect of things, (Translated from Gautier) I know what lies within. Knowledge comes from you, gnosis from me; O Sun! The world’s essence and motivator You seek God, I reveal Him. you are Attaining the ultimate in knowledge only The organizer of the book of the world you makes one restless— are I am the cure for that malady. The splendor of existence has been created by You are the candle of the Assembly of Truth; you 1 am the lamp of the Assembly of Beauty. The verdure of the garden of existence You are hobbled by space and time, depends on you While I am the bird in the Lotus Tree. The spectacle of elements is maintained by My status is so high— you I am the throne of the God of Majesty! The exigency of life in all is maintained by you [Translated by Mustansir Mir] Your appearance confers stability on THE PAINFUL WAIL everything Your illumination and concord is completion Consumed with grief I am, I get relief in no of life way You are the sun which establishes light in the O circumambient waters of the Ganges drown world me Which establishes heart, intellect, essence and Our land foments excessive mutual enmity wisdom What unity! Our closeness harbors separation O Sun! Bestow on us the light of wisdom Enmity instead of sincerity is outrageous Bestow your luster’s light on the intellect’s Enmity among the same barn’s grains is eye outrageous You are the decorator of necessaries of If the brotherly breeze has not entered in a existence’ assemblage garden You are the Yazdan of the denizens of the No pleasure can be derived from songs in that high and the low garden 136 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Your excellence is reflected from every living Innumerable fire temples are asleep in this thing spark The mountain range also shows your elegance Discrimination between high and low is You are the sustainer of the life of all created by this alone! You are the king of the light’s children Fragrance in flower, ecstasy in wine is created There is no beginning and no end of yours by this alone! Free of limits of time is the light of yours Garden, nightingale, flower, fragrance this Cognition is HE ANDLE T C Root of the struggle of ‘I and you’ this O Candle! I am also an afflicted person in the Cognition is world assembly At creation’s dawn as Beauty became the Constant complaint is my lot in the manner of abode of Love the rue The sound of “Kun” taught warmth to the Love gave the warmth of internal pathos to spirit of Love you The command came Beauty of Kun’s garden It made me the florist selling blood‐mixed to witness tears With one eye a thousand dreadful dreams to Whether you be the candle of a celebrating witness assembly or one at the grave Do not ask me of the nature of the veil of In every condition associated with the tears of being sorrow you remain The eve of separation was the dawn of my Your eye views all with equity like the being Secret’s Lovers Gone are the days when unaware of My eye is the pride of the tumult of imprisonment I was discrimination That my abode the adornment of the tree of Your illumination is alike in the Ka’bah and Tur was the temple I am a prisoner but consider the cage to be a I am entangled in the temple and the Haram’s garden discrimination This exile’s hovel of sorrow I consider the Your black smoke contains the sigh’s elegance homeland Is some heart hidden in the place of your Memories of the homeland a needless manifestation? melancholy became You burn with pathos due to distance from Now the desire for sight, now Longing for Tajalli’s Light search became Your pathos the callous ones consider your O Candle! Look at the excessive illusion of light thought Though you are burning you are unaware of Look at the end of the one worshipped by it all celestial denizens You see but do not encompass the internal Theme of separation I am, the exalted one I pathos am I quiver like mercury with the excitement of Design of the Will of the Universe’s Lord I am vexation He desired my display as He designed me As well I am aware of vexations of the restless When at the head of Existence’ Divan He heart wrote me This was also the elegance of some Beloved The pearl likes living in a handful of dust Which gave me perception of my own pathos Style may be dull the subject is excellent This cognition of mine keeps me restless Not seeing it rightly is the fault of short‐ sighted perception The Call of the Marching Bell 137

The universe is the show of effulgence of taste The nightingale be so familiar with my face for Cognizance that This network of time and space is the scaling Her little heart harboring no fear from me ladder of the Universe may be It is the necklace of the neck of Eternal Beauty Avenues of green trees standing on both sides I have lost the way, Longing for the goal I am be O Candle! Captive of perception’s illusion I The spring’s clear water providing a beautiful am picture be I am the hunter as well as the circle of The view of the mountain range may be so tyranny’s net! beautiful I am the Haram’s roof as well as the bird on To see it the waves of water again and again Haram’s roof rising be Am I the Beauty or head to foot the melting The verdure may be asleep in the lap of the love am I? earth It is not clear whether the beloved or the Water running through the bushes may Lover am I? glistening be I am afraid the old secret may come up to my Again and again the flowered boughs lips again touching the water be Lest story of suffering on the Cross may come As if some beauty looking at itself in mirror up again. be When the sun apply myrtle to the evening’s ONGING A L bride O Lord! I have become weary of human The tunic of every flower may pinkish golden assemblages! be When the heart is sad no pleasure in When night’s travelers falter behind with assemblages can be fatigue I seek escape from tumult, my heart desires Their only hope my broken earthenware lamp The silence which speech may ardently love! may be I vehemently desire silence, I strongly long May the lightning lead them to my hut that When clouds hovering over the whole sky be. A small hut in the mountain’s side may there The early dawn’s cuckoo, that morning’s be mu’adhdhin Freed from worry I may live in retirement May my confidante he be, and may his Freed from the cares of the world I may be confidante I be Birds’ chirping may give the pleasure of the May I not be obligated to the temple or to the lyre mosque In the spring’s noise may the orchestra’s May the hut’s hole alone herald of morning’s melody be arrival be The flower bud bursting may give God’s When the dew may come to perform the message to me flowers’ ablution Showing the whole world to me this small May wailing my supplication, weeping my wine‐cup may be ablution be My arm may be my pillow, and the green In this silence may my heart’s wailing rise so grass my bed be high Putting the congregation to shame my That for stars’ caravan the clarion’s call my solitude’s quality be wailing be May every compassionate heart weeping with me be 138 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Perhaps it may awaken those who may May the Love‐creating Beauty in everything unconscious be appear to me! If the rose petals get damaged by the breeze HE ORNING UN T M S May its pain dropping from my eye as a tear Far from the ignoble strife of Man’s tavern be you are May the heart contain that little spark of The wine‐cup adorning the sky’s assemblage Love’s fire you are The light of which may contain the secret of The jewel which should be the pearl of the the Truth morning’s bride’s ear you are May my heart not mine but the Beloved’s The ornament which would be the pride of mirror be! horizon’s forehead you are May no thought in my mind except human The blot of night’s ink from time’s page has sympathy be! been removed! If you cannot endure the hardships of the The star from sky like a spurious picture has tumultuous world been removed! O the Great Luminary that is not the mark of When from the roof of the sky your beauty greatness! appears As you are not aware of your Effect of sleep’s wine suddenly from eyes world‐decorating beauty disappears You cannot be equal to a speck of dust at the Perception’s expanse gets filled with light Man’s door! Though opens only the material eye your The light of Man eager for the Spectacle ever light remained The spectacle which the eyes seek is desired And you obligated to the tomorrow’s The effulgence which would open the insight morning ever remained is desired Longing for the Light of the Truth is only in The desires for freedom were not fulfilled in our hearts this life Abode of Lailah of desire for search is only in We remained imprisoned in chains of this litter dependence all life Opening of the difficult knot, Oh what a The high and the low are alike for your eye pleasure it is! I too have longing for such a discerning eye The pleasure of universal gain in our endless May my eye shedding tears in sympathy for effort is! others’ woes be! Your bosom is unacquainted with the pain of May my heart free from the prejudice of investigation nation and customs be! You are not familiar with searching of the May my tongue be not bound with secrets of Nature discrimination of color PATHOS OF LOVE May mankind be my nation, the whole world my country be O Pathos of Love! You are a glossy pearl May secret of Nature’s organization clear to Beware, you should not appear among my insight be strangers May smoke of my imagination’s candle rising The theatre of your display is concealed to the sky be under the veil May search for secrets of opposites not make The modern audience’ eye accepts only the me restless! visible display The Call of the Marching Bell 139

New breeze has arrived in the Existence’ A WITHERED ROSE garden O Pathos of Love! Now there is no pleasure in How shall I call you now a flower— display Tell me, oh withered rose! Beware! You should not be striving for How call you that beloved for whom ostentation! The nightingale’s heart glows? You should not be obligated to the The winds’ soft ripples cradled you nightingale’s lament! And rocked your bygone hours, The tulip’s wine‐cup should be devoid of And your name once was Laughing Rose wine In the country of flowers; The dew’s tear should be a mere drop of With the dawn breezes that received water Your favours you once played, Your secret should be hidden in the bosom Like a perfumer’s vase your breath somewhere Sweetened the garden glade. Your heart ‐melting tear should not be your These eyes are full, and drops like dew betrayer Fall thick on you again; The flowery‐styled poet’s tongue should not This desolate heart finds dimly its be talking Own image in your pain, Separation’s complaint should not be A record drawn in miniature concealed in flute’s music Of all its sorry gleaming; This age is a critic, go and somewhere conceal My life was all a life of dreams, yourself And you—you are its meaning. In the heart in which you are residing conceal I tell my stories as the reed yourself Plucked from its native wild The learning’s surprise is neglecting you, Murmurs; oh Rose, listen! I tell beware! The grief of hearts exiled. Your immature eye is not the seeker of Truth, [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] beware Let the elegant thought remain in search of THE TOMBSTONE OF SAYYID Truth O you whose life is confined in the material Let your wisdom‐loving eye remain in world astonishment O you whose soul is imprisoned in the cage This is not the garden whose spring you may Look at the freedom of this garden’s warblers be Look at the prosperity of those once desolate This is not the audience worthy of your This is the congregation with which I was appearance concerned This audience is the lover of the material This is the reward of patience and sights perseverance The purpose of your sight is the closet of My tomb‐stone is ardently desirous of speech, secrecy look! Every heart is intoxicated with the wine of At this tomb‐stone’s inscription with insight thinking look! Something different is the Tur of the Kalims If your aim in the world is din’s education of this age Never teach your nation world’s abdication [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Do not use your tongue for sectarianism Resurrection Day’s tumult for booty is stalking 140 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Your writings should pave the way for unity All shapes of life that wanes and grows before Beware! No heart should be hurt by your us you display: speech Where is your native land? towards what In the new congregation do not start old tales country lies your way? Do not start again what are now unacceptable You who still wander yet still keep your path, tales take me with you, Listen to my advice if you are any statesman Take me now while these throbbing thorns of Courage is your support if you are a leader of torment pierce me through! men I grope for light, I anguish in this earth‐abode, Hesitation in expressing your purpose does a child not behoove you In the schoolroom of existence, like pale If your intentions are good you should not mercury quick and wild. fear anything AN AND ATURE The Mu’min’s heart is clear of fear and M N hypocrisy Watching at daybreak the bright sun come The Mu’min’s heart is fearless against the forth ruler’s power I asked the assembled host of heaven and If your hands do hold the miraculous pen earth— If your heart’s cup is clear like the cup of Jam Your radiant looks are kindled by that You are a Divine pupil! Keep your tongue glowing orb’s warm beams immaculate! That turns to rippling silver your flowing Beware, Lest your prayer’s call remains streams; unanswered! That sun it is that clothes you in these With the miracle of your verse awaken those ornaments of light, sleeping And whose torch burns to keep your Burn down falsehood’s produce with the concourse bright. flame of your call. Your roses and rose‐gardens are pictures of Paradise [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Where the Scripture of The Sun paints its device; THE NEW MOON Scarlet the mantle of the flower, and emerald The day’s bright launch has floundered in the of the tree, whirlpool of the Nile, Green and red sylphs of your consistory; On the river’s face one fragment floats Your tall pavilion, the blue sky. Is fringed eddyingly awhile; with tasselled gold Into the bowl of heaven the twilight’s crimson When round the horizons ruddy clouds blood‐drops run— are rolled, Has Nature with her lancet pricked the hot And when into evening’s goblet your rose‐ veins of the sun? tinted nectar flows —Is that an earring, that the sky has thieved How lovely the twilight’s soft vermilion from Evening’s bride, glows! or through the water does some silvery fish, Your station is exalted, and your splendour: quivering, glide? over all Your caravan holds on its way, though no Your creatures light lies thick, a dazzling trumpet be blown; pall; Your voice still murmurs, though no mortal To your magnificence the dawn is one high ear may catch its tone. hymn of praise, The Call of the Marching Bell 141

No rag of night lurks on it in that sun’s THE MESSAGE OF DAWN blaze. And I—I too inhabit this abode of light; but (Adapted from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow) why When the sparkling of the night’s forehead’s Is the star burned out that rules my decoration disappeared destiny? The zephyr of life with the news of the happy Why chained in the dark, past reach of any morning appeared ray, It awakened the nightingale of flowery song Ill‐faring and ill‐fated and ill‐doing must I in its nest stay? It shook the shoulder of the farmer on the field’s edge Speaking, I heard a voice from somewhere It broke the spell of darkness of night’s sound, talisman with Surah al‐Nur From heaven’s balcony or near the It robbed the golden crown of bed‐chamber’s ground— candle in the dark You are creation’s gardener, flowers live only It chanted the magic of awakening on those in your seeing, sleeping in the temple By your light hangs my being or not‐being; It gave the Brahman the tidings of the bright All beauty is in you: I am the tapestry of your sun soul; Arriving at the mosque’s roof it said to the I am its key, but you are Love’s own scroll. Mu’adhdhin The load that would not leave me you have “Do you not fear appearance of the lifted from my shoulder, resplendent sun?” You are all my chaotic work’s re‐moulder. Climbing the garden’s wall it cried this to the If I exist, it is only as a pensioner of the sun, rose‐bud Needing no aid from whom your spark “Burst! You are the Mu’adhdhin of the burns on; morning O rose‐bud” My garden would turn wilderness if the sun It gave the command in the wilderness “Move should fail, O Caravan”! This sojourn of delight a prison’s pale. “Every dust speck will shine like fire‐fly in Oh you entangled in the snare of longing and the wilderness” unrest, When it reached the cemetery from the Still ignorant of a thing so manifest— living’s habitation Dullard, who should be proud, and still by Witnessing the spectacle of the cemetery it self‐contempt enslaved spoke thus Bear in your brain illusion deep “Remain lying in comfort still, come again engraved— shall I If you would weigh your worth at its true Make the whole world sleep, wake you up rate, shall I No longer would ill‐faring or ill‐doing be your fate! LOVE AND DEATH [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] (Adapted From Lord Alfred Tennyson) The hour of the Universe’ appearance was charming The flower‐bud of life was showering smiles Here the golden crown, the sun was getting There the moon its moon‐light was getting 142 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The dark gown to the night was being given The thunder of such smile descended on Training of brightness to stars was being death given How can darkness stay in front of such light? The Existence’s branch was getting leaves On seeing eternity to death it fell here Death it was, to death it fell The bud of life was bursting out there [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] The angels were teaching weeping to the dew For the first time the rose was laughing VIRTUE AND VICE They were conferring pathos on the poet’s A Mullah (I tell you his tale not a bit heart With any ambition of airing my wit) Khudi for the wine of bekhudi was pining By ascetic deportment had won high repute, For the first time dark black clouds were In his praise neither gentle nor simple were appearing mute. As if some Houri of Paradise with open hair God’s will, he would say, just as meaning is was standing latent The earth was claiming elegance of the sky In words, through pure doctrine alone The space was claiming to be boundless becomes patent. In short so beautiful the sight was His heart a full bowl: wine of piety worked That seeing it in itself a panorama was there, The angels their flying powers were testing Though some dregs of conceit of omniscience Eternal lights from their foreheads were lurked there— appearing He was wont to recount his own miracles, An angel called Love there was knowing Whose guidance everyone’s hope was How this kept his tally of followers growing. The angel who the embodiment of He had long been residing not far from my restlessness was street, Angel among angels and restless like mercury So sinner and saint were accustomed to meet: he was ‘This Iqbal,’ he once asked an acquaintance of He was going towards the Paradise for a stroll mine, He met death on its way by the destiny’s roll ‘Is dove of the tree in the literary line, He asked death, “What is the name and work but how do religion’s stern monishments of yours? seem I do not want to encounter the face of yours” To agree with this man who at verse beats Hearing this said the angel of death Kalim? “My work is clear, I am the angel of death He thinks a Hindu not a heathen, I’m told, I shatter the chattels of existence A most casuistical notion to hold, I extinguish the spark of life And some taints of the Shias’ heresy sully The magic of annihilation is in my eyes His mind—I have heard him extolling their The message of destruction is its symhol Ali; But there is one entity in the Universe He finds room in our worship for music— It is fire, I am only mercury before it which must It lives in the human heart as a spark Be intended to level true faith with the dust! It is the darling of the Divine Light As with poets so often, no scruple of duty It constantly drips as tears from the eyes Deters him from meeting the vendors‐of‐ The tears whose bitterness is tolerable” beauty; When Love heard this from the death’s lips, In the morning, devotions—at evening, the Laughter started appearing from its lips fiddle— The Call of the Marching Bell 143

I have never been able to fathom this riddle. THE POET Yet dawn, my disciples assure me, is not More unsoiled than that youth is by blemish A nation is like a body, or spot; And the individuals in it the body’s limbs: No Iqbal, but a heterogeneous creature, Those who walk the road of industry His mind crammed with learning, with Are its hands and feet, impulse his nature, The office of government is its beautiful face, In divinity, doubtless, as deep as Mansur; And the poet of tuneful melodies is its seeing What the fellow is really, I cannot make out— eye. Is it founding some brand‐new Islam he’s If just one limb should suffer pain, about?’ Tears will drop from the eye– —Thus the great man protracted his chatter, How anxious the eye is for the whole body! and in short made a very long tale of the [Translated by Mustansir Mir] matter. In our town, all the world hears of every THE HEART transaction: Tales of gallows and crucifixion are mere I soon got reports from my own little faction, child’s play for the Heart And when I fell in with His Worship one day The request of Arini is only the title of the In our talk the same topic came up by the story of the Heart way. O Lord! How powerful the full cup of that ‘If,’ said he, ‘I found fault, pure good‐will was wine would be? the cause, The Way to eternity is each single line on the And my duty to point out religion’s strict measuring cup of the Heart laws.’ O Lord! Was it the cloud of mercy or the —‘Not at all,’ I responded, ‘I make no thunderbolt of Love complaint, When the life’s crop got burned down, As a neighbour of mine you need feel no sprouted the seed of the Heart constraint; You would have got the Beauty’s bountiful In your presence I am, as my bent head treasure declares, O Farhad! You never dug into the ruins of the Metamorphosed at once from gay youth to Heart grey hairs, Now it looks like the ‘Arsh‘, now like the And if my true nature eludes your analysis, Ka’bah Your claim to omniscience need fear no O God! Whose lodging is the abode of my paralysis; Heart For me also my nature remains still It has its own junun and I have my own sawda enravelled, The Heart loves someone else and I love the The sea of my thoughts is too deep and Heart untravelled: You do not comprehend this, O simple I too long to know the Iqbal of reality, hearted ascetic! And often shed tears at this wall of duality. Envy of a thousand prostrations is one slip of To Iqbal of Iqbal little knowledge is given; the Heart I say this not jesting—not jesting, by Heaven! It changes the heap of earth into elixir Such is the power of the ashes of the Heart [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] It gains freedom after being caught in the net of Love 144 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

On being thunder‐struck greens up the tree of I searched long for the rose’ sight among the Heart. thorns Ah! I have not found that Yusuf in your [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] market place THE WAVE OF RIVER The perplexed eye for another scene is searching My restless heart doth never keep me still: As storm‐stricken my eye for coast is This inner core of me is mercury. searching They call me wave. The ocean is my goal. Leaving your garden like fragrance I am No chain of whirling eddy holdeth me. going My steed like air upon the water rides. Farewell! O worldly company I am going to My garment’s hem on thorn of fish e’er tore, the homeland When moon is full sometimes I leap all fey; I have made my home in the quietness of the Sometimes all mad I dash my head on shore. mountain side I am the pilgrim loving journey’s stage. Ah! I do not get this pleasure in Why am I restless? If my heart make quest. conversation’s music! I flee from the cramped torment of the stream, Associate of Nargis‐i‐Shahlah, and rose’s Away from the sea’s wide spaces, all companion I am distressed. The garden is my homeland, nightingale’s [Translated by H.T. Sorley] associate I am The sound of the spring’s music lulls me to FAREWELL O WORLDʹS CONGREGATION! sleep (Adapted from Ralph Waldo Emerson) The morning cuckoo from the green carpet wakes me up Farewell O worldly companions! I am going Everyone in the world assemblage social life to my homeland likes I am feeling unhappy in this well‐populated The poet’s heart but the solitude’s corner likes wilderness I am verged on lunacy by being perturbed in I am very much dejected, unsuitable for habitations assemblies I am For whom I am searching, roaming in the Neither you are suitable for me nor suitable mountain valleys? for you I am Whose love makes me roam in the meadows? The king’s audience and the minister’s bed‐ And makes me sleep on the spring’s banks? chamber each is a prison You taunt me that fond of the corner of The golden chain’s prisoner will break retirement I am himself free from this prison Look O imprudent one! Messenger of Though much pleasure is in embellishing Nature’s assembly I am your assembly Compatriot of the elms, turtle‐dove’s But some kind of strangeness is in your confidante I am! acquaintance In this garden’s silence in the state of anxiety I I remained long in company of your am! self‐centered people If I do hear something it is only to tell others I remain restless for long like the waves of the If I do see something it is only to show others ocean My heart is a lover of retirement, proud of my I remained long in your luxury gatherings home I am I remained long searching for light in the Scoffing at the thrones of Dara and Sikandar I darkness am The Call of the Marching Bell 145

How enchanting is the act of lying under the Like you, I sometimes weep; and sometimes I trees laugh. As now and then my sight falls at the evening I appear to be a foolish adolescent, but I am star also a baby! Where in the strange house of learning can [Translated by D.J. Matthews] this be seen! The secret of universe can only in the THE PORTRAIT OF ANGUISH rose‐petal be seen. My story is not indebted to the patience of [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] being heard My silence is my talk, my speechlessness is YOUNG BABY my speech Why does this custom of silencing exist in I took a knife away from you and you shriek. your assembly? I am kind, but you thought I was being My tongue is tantalized to talk in this unkind. assembly Then you will lie there and cry, you who have Some leaves were picked up by the tulip, just arrived in this world of sorrow. some by the narcissus, some by the rose Make sure it does not prick you! The tip of the My story is scattered around everywhere in pen is so slender. the garden Ah! Why are you so fond of a thing which The turtle‐doves, parrots, and nightingales will give you pain? pilfered away Play with this piece of paper—that is The garden’s denizens jointly robbed away harmless. my plaintive way Where is your ball? Where is your china cat? O Candle! Drip like tears from the eye of the That little animal with the broken head? moth Your mirror was free from the dust of desire. Head to foot pathos I am, full of longing is my As soon as your eyes opened, the spark of story desire shone out. O God! What is the pleasure of living so in It is hidden in the movement of your hands, this world? in the way you see. Neither the eternal life, nor the sudden death Like you, your desire is also new‐born. is mine Your life is free of the prison of discretion. This is not only my wailing, but is that of the Perhaps the secret of nature is manifest to entire garden your eyes. I am a rose, to me every rose’ autumn is my When you are angry with me about autumn something, you shriek. “In this grief‐stricken land, in life‐long spell of What a sight! You are made happy with a the caravan’s bell I am piece of waste‐paper! From the palpitating heart’s bounties the In this habit, I am in harmony with you. silent clamor I have“ You are capricious; I am also capricious. In the world’s garden unaware of pleasant I am given to the joys of momentary pleasure; company I am I shriek as well. Whom happiness still mourns, that hapless I am quickly moved to anger; I am quickly person I am consoled. Speech itself sheds tears at my ill luck My eyes are enchanted with all the beauty Silent word, longing for an eager ear I am they see before them. I am a mere handful of scattered dust but I do My foolishness is no less than yours. not know 146 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Whether Alexander or a mirror or just dust Conspiracies for your destruction are afoot in and scum I am the heavens Despite all this my existence is the Divine Pay attention to what is happening and what Purpose is going to happen Embodiment of light is whose reality, that What good there is in repeating the tales of darkness I am the old glories? I am a treasure, concealed in the wilderness How long will you remain silent? Create taste dust for complaint! No one knows where I am, or whose wealth I You should be on the earth, so your cries be in am? the heavens! My insight is not obligated to the stroll of You will be annihilated if you do not existence understand, O people of India! That small world I am whose sovereign Even your tales will disappear from the myself I am world’s chronicles Neither wine, nor cup‐bearer, nor ecstasy, nor This is the law of Nature, this is the order of goblet I am Nature But the truth of everything in the existence’ Those who tread dynamism’s path, are the tavern I am darlings of Nature My heart’s mirror shows me both world’s I will surely exhibit all my hidden wounds secrets today I relate exactly what I witness before my eyes I will surely change assembly to a garden I am bestowed with such speech among the with blood‐mixed tears elegant speakers I have to light every heart’s candle with That the birds of the ‘Arsh’s roof are hidden pathos concordant with me I will surely create bright illumination in your This also is an effect of my tumultuous love darkness That my heart’s mirrors are Destiny’s So that love‐cognizant hearts be created like confidante rose‐buds Your spectacle makes me shed tears, O India! I will surely scatter around my handful of Your tales are admonitory among all the tales dust in the garden Conferring the wailing on me is like If stringing these scattered pearls in a single conferring everything rosary Since eternity Destiny’s pen has put me where Is difficult, I will surely make this difficult all your mourners are task easy O gardener do not leave even the rose‐petals’ O Companion! Leave me alone in the soul‐ trace in this garden! searching effort By your misfortune war preparations are As I will surely exhibit this mark of the ardent afoot among the gardeners Love The sky has kept thunderbolts concealed up I will show the world what my eyes have seen its sleeve I will surely make you also bewildered like a Garden’s nightingales should not slumber in mirror their nests The discerning eye sees every thing covered Listen to my call, O imprudent one! This is in veils something which It does see the exigencies of the nature of The birds in gardens are reciting like the daily times prayers You have not acquainted your heart with Think of the homeland, O ignorant one! Hard pleasure of dignity times are coming The Call of the Marching Bell 147

You have passed your entire life in humility Sectarianism is the tree, prejudice is its fruit like foot‐prints This fruit caused expulsion of S Adam from You always remained entangled inside the Paradise assembly, but Not even a single rose‐petal could rise by Have not acquainted yourself with the world sun’s attraction outside the assembly It is the longing for elegance which raises the You have continued loving the charm of dew material beauties Those wounded by Love do not wander in But you have never seen your own elegance search of cure in this mirror These wounded ones themselves create their Give up prejudice O imprudent one! In the own cure world’s glass house The heart gets complete illumination by the They are your own pictures which you have spark of Love taken as evil ones The Tur’s flower bed is raised from the Love’s Become embodiment of the wail of tyranny of small seed life’s pathos! Every malady’s cure is to remain wounded You have concealed sound in your pocket like with Longing’s sword the rue seed Wound’s remedy is to remain free from Clarity of heart has nothing to do with obligation to stitching external decorations With the Bekhudi’s wine up to the celestial O imprudent one! You have applied myrtle to world is my flight mirror’s palm From disappearance of color I have learnt to Not only the earth even the sky is bewailing remain fragrance your imprudence How can the weeping eye refrain from It is outrageous that you have twisted the homeland’s lamentation? Qur’an’s lines! The ‘ibadah for the poet’s eye is to remain To what purpose is your claim to constantly with ablution monotheism! To what purpose should we make our nest in You have made the idol of self conceit your the rose‐branch deity Ah! How can we live with constant disgrace What did you see even if you saw Yusuf in in the garden the well? If you understand, independence is veiled in O imprudent one! You have made the Love Absolute confined Slavery is to remain imprisoned in the net of You are greedy of flowery style even at the schism pulpit Contentment is what keeps the cup Your advice also is a form of story telling submerged in water Show that universally illuminating Beauty to You should also remain like the bubble in the your weeping eye stream Which renders the moth highly agitated, It is best for you not to remain indifferent to which makes the dew weep like eye yours own Mere seeing is not its purpose! O greedy one O apathetic person! If you want to remain Some One has made the human eye with alive in the world some purpose Soul‐invigorating wine is the Love of the Even if he viewed the whole world, what did human race he see? It has taught me to remain ecstatic without Jam could not see his own reality in the wine the wine cup and the pitcher cup 148 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Sick nations have been cured only through Sight is asleep in my eyes like the Love extinguished candle.” Nations have warded off their adversity I am fond of seclusion, I hate the habitation through Love I run away from the city in excruciation of The expanse of Love is at once foreign land love and homeland I make the heart restless from the olden days’ This wilderness is the cage, the nest, as well as memory the garden For satisfaction I come ardently running Love is the only stage which is the stage as towards you well as the wilderness Though the eye is familiar with your nook It is the bell, the caravan, the leader as well as and corner the robber Still some strangeness is apparent from my Everybody calls it an illness, but it is such an speed illness My heart’s speck was just to be acquainted In which the cure for all ills and misfortunes with the sun is concealed The broken mirror was just to expand into the The heart’s pathos in a way is to become universe embodiment of Light The tree of my longings was just going to If this moth burns it is also the assembly’s green up candle Ah! what does any one know what I was The Beauty is just one but appears in going to be! everything Mercy’s cloud gathered up its skirt from my It is Shirin, the sky, as well as the mountain garden and departed digger Rained a little over the flower buds of my Distinction of sects and governments has desires and departed destroyed nations Where are you! O Kalim of the pinnacle Sina Is there any concern for the homeland in my of learning! compatriot’s hearts? Your breath was the breeze promoting the joy Prolonging the tale of my woes calls for of learning silence, otherwise Gone is that zeal for walking in the vast The tongue in my mouth as well as the ability expanse of learning! to speak is In my intellect also you were the inspirer of “Take not this meaningful tale as related by love of learning me is “Where is Layla’s fervor, so as to decorate The story was endless, but related with Love again silence is.” May make the dust of Majnun mixed with wilderness again AMENT OF EPARATION L S The wilderness of solitude will open the fate’s (In Memory of Arnold) knot I shall reach you after breaking the chains of O house! Your resident is now residing in the the Punjab West The bewildered eye looks upon your picture Ah! The land of the East was not liked by him But how can one searching for speech be Today my heart is convinced of this truth happy? The light of the separation’s day is darker “No power to speak the picture’s mouth has than night Silence is the speech which the picture has” “As from his departure’s breast the scar is picked up [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] The Call of the Marching Bell 149

THE MOON Still far from thirst of consciousness, a thousand journeys far; My desert from your native land how many a Before my soul the path lies clear in view that league divides! it must trace— Yet by your power the waters of my heart No gleam of knowledge such as mine will feels these rough tides. ever light your face. To what far gathering are you bound, what far gathering come? [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] Your face is blanched, as if from journeyings BILAL long and wearisome. You in this universe all light, and I all As the star of your destiny ascended to shine darkness, share It lifted and brought you from Abyssinia to One destiny together in our valley of despair; Hijaz I burn in a flame of longing, ah! burn for the This alone made inhabited your desolate gift of sight, house And you, all seared with fires of longing, bed Better than a thousand freedoms is your the sun for light; slavery And if your footsteps cannot stray from one That threshold not even for a moment you fixed circle’s bound, could leave I too move in one circle as a compass‐hand In some one’s Love all torments you bore moves round. cheerfully You roam forlorn life’s path to whose dull The oppression befalling in Love is not griefs I too am doomed, oppression You shining through creation’s throng, I in If there is no torment, there is no pleasure in my flame consumed; Love A long road lies before me and a long road Full of Intellection like Salman was your waits for you; insight The silence of your thronging skies is here in The wine of sight used to increase your thirst my heart too. Like Kaleem you were in search of the Sight My nature is like yours, you who were born Uwais was tantalized for the power of Sight to seek, to rove, Madinah was the light for your eyes so to say Though yours are silver rays—the light that For you this wilderness was the Tur so to say guides my feet is love. Your longing for Sight continued even after I too dwell among many: if you go witnessing the Sight companionless The cold heart warmed up but its breath did Amid the company of heaven, I know your not rest even for a moment loneliness; Such a lightning struck your impatient soul And when for you the blaze of dawn That your darkness was scoffing at the Musa’s proclaims extinction, I palm Drown with you in the crystal glory of “They captured warmth from the flame and eternity. struck it on your heart And yet, yet, radiant moon! we are not of one What a lightning of Effulgence they struck on race; it is motes of your efforts!” No heart like your heart that can feel and tell The charm of your longing for the Sight was its miseries. the embodiment of supplication Though you are of light, and I of darkness The continuous sighting of someone was your made, you are prayer 150 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Since eternity the adhan was the anthem of I taught the proposition of the revolving your Love earth. Prayer was the subtle pretext for the Sight I donned the lens of far‐seeing reason, Happy was the age when Yathrib was his and told the world the secret of gravity. abode! I captured rays and the restless lightning, How happy was the time when common was Making this earth the envy of paradise. his Sight But although my reason held the world captive to my ring, [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Yet I remained ignorant of the secret of THE STORY OF ADAM existence. When at last my eyes, worshippers of What a story I have to tell, to anyone who will appearance, were opened, listen, I found it already lodged in the mansion of Of how I travelled in foreign lands! my heart! I forgot the story of the First Covenant. In the garden of heaven, [Translated by Mustansir Mir] When 1 drank the fiery cup of awareness I felt THE INDIAN ANTHEM uneasy. I have always searched for the truth about the The best land in the world is our India; world, We are its nightingales; this is our garden. Showing the celestial heights of my thought. If we are in exile, our heart resides in our Such was my fickle temperament homeland. That in no place under the sky could I settle Understand that we are also where our heart for good. is. At times 1 cleared the Kaʹba of stone idols, That is the highest mountain, the neighbour But at times put statues in the same sanctuary; of the sky; At times, to savour talk, 1 went to Mount It is our sentry; it is our watchman. Sinai In its lap play thousands of streams, And hid the eternal light in the folds of my And the gardens that flourish because of them sleeve; are the envy of Paradise. By my own people I was hung on the cross; Oh, waters of the river Ganges! Do you I travelled to the skies, leaving earth behind. remember those days? For years I hid in the Cave of Hira, Those days when our caravan halted on your I served the world its last cup of wine; bank? Arriving in India, I sang the Divine Song; Religion does not teach us to be enemies with I took a fancy to the land of Greece; each other: When India did not heed my call, We are Indians, our homeland is our India. I went to live in China and Japan; Greece, Egypt and Byzantium have all been I saw the world composed of atoms, erased from the world. Contrary to what the men of faith taught. But our fame and banner still remain. By stirring up the conflict between reason and It is something to be proud of that our faith, existence is never erased, I soaked in blood hundreds of lands. Though the passing of time for centuries has When I failed to probe the reality of the stars, always been our enemy. I spent nights on end wrapped in thought. Iqbal! No‐one in this world has ever known The sword of the Church could not frighten your secret. me; Does anyone know the pain I feel inside me? [Translated by D.J. Matthews] The Call of the Marching Bell 151

FIREFLY This moon of the sky is as heat of the bard. There shines the bright moon: here is anguish Is the firefly aglow in the garden’s abode? of pain. Or blazes a lamp in the throng of the flowers? There must be some trick in the ways of the Has a star fluttered down that high aloft word: rode? Else the bird would be fragrance, the flower Has a ray of the moon won some life‐ sing refrain. throbbing powers? The riddle of union’s in beauty rich hid. Has the envoy of day come to realms of the The glitter of firefly is fragrance of flower. night? Then why comes perversely this discord Come humbly, a gleam to its own land unbid unknown? When all things at heart hide this silence of Has there fallen a whorl that moon’s cloak power? once bedight? From the robe of the sun has a sequin been [Translated by H.T. Sorley] shown? MORNING STAR Here is hidden the sheen of Old Beauty and bright Enough of this sun‐and‐moon neighbouring That Nature uncovers for men of our day. glory— In this little moon are both darkness and light, Enough of this office of heralding dawn! As eclipse may advance, or eclipse pass away. Worthless to me the abodes of the planets, The moth and the firefly through air both take Lowly earth‐dwelling is more than these wing. heights One seeks for light: one in light’s all arrayed: I inhabit, to heaven but a realm of extinction, Dawn’s skirt of the hundred‐fold rent for my On earth nature grants all some soul‐ shroud: gladd’ning thing. To live, to die daily my fate, to be poured For the moth was heat, for the firefly light The morning‐draught first by the cupbearer made. Death. On birds that were tongueless it dowered Thankless this duty, this station, this melody: dignity— Gave a tongue to the rose but withheld from it Better the dark then to shine for one hour! song. For sunset it fashioned sheer half‐light to see; No star would I be, if it lay in my will, Set fairy a‐glitter but her life made not long: But a gleaming white pearl in the cavernous The morning made brilliant like sweet bird of sea, love: And then, if too fearful the strife of the waves, Clad down in red robes—with dew’s mirror Leave ocean, and hang in some necklace— dawn plays. what joy It brought the tree shadiness, caused air to It would be there to glitter as beauty’s bright move, pendent, Set motion to water, taught waves’ restless A gem in the crown of an emperor’s consort! ways. What fragment of stone, if its destiny smiled, Might not flash in the ring on the finger of Yet this is a puzzle that troubles our mind. Solomon? The day of the firefly for us is the night. But glory of all such in this world must In everything luster of beauty we fine; vanish, In man there is speech: opening buds smile The rich gem must vanish at last. That alone delight. 152 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Lives, that need have no acquaintance with For which people of Hijaz abandoned the death: Arabian wilderness Can that be called life, that hears death’s That same is my homeland, that same is my importunity? homeland If, making earth lovely, our end must be thus, Whose wisdom had left the Greeks Let me rather be changed to a flower‐falling bewildered dewdrop, Which gave knowledge and skill to the entire A speck in the gold‐dust that paints a bride’s world forehead, Whose soil had been endowed by God with A spark in the sigh that a wounded heart the elixir’s effect breathes— Which had filled the pocket of the Turks with Or why not the glistening tear‐drop that rolls diamonds Down the long lashes fringing the eyes of a That same is my homeland, that same is my lady homeland Whose lord, in chain armour enmeshed, must Which illuminated and established in the set forth milky way again To the battlefield, hurried by love of his The stars which had fallen from the sky of country, Persia —A woman whose face like a picture shows The House from which the world had heard hope Tawhid’s tune and despair side by side, and whose silence From where the Holy Prophet had felt cool shames speech: breeze her patient thoughts built on her husband’s That same is my homeland, that same is my firm soul, homeland Her looks from their modesty borrowing Whose denizens are Kaleems, whose eloquence, mountains the Sinais are That hour of farewell when the rosy cheek Where the Prophet Nuh’s boat and its pales occupants had landed And the sorrow of parting makes beauty The land whose elegance is the stairway to more beautiful! the sky There, though she locked up her heart, I Living in whose environment is like living in would gleam, Paradise One waterdrop split from her eye’s brimming That same is my homeland, that same is my cup, homeland To find in the dust an immortal new life, [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] And teach to the world the long passion of love. A NEW ALTAR [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] I’ll tell you truth, oh Brahmin, if I may make so bold! THE NATIONAL ANTHEM FOR THE These idols in your temples—these idols have INDIAN CHILDREN grown old, The land in which Chishti delivered the To hate your fellow‐mortals is all they teach message of God you, while The garden in which Nanak sang the song of Our God too sets his preachers to scold and to Tawhid of God revile; The land which the Tatars adopted as their Sickened, from both your temple and our homeland shrines I have run, The Call of the Marching Bell 153

Alike our preachers’ sermons and your fond Where is that elegant rakishness now? The myths I shun. coquettish style? —In every graven image you fancied God: I The fire of youth was ever hidden in the see camphor of his old age. in each speck of my country’s poor dust, The desire that Dagh’s words expressed are in divinity. everyone’s heart. The Layla of meaning with him was unveiled; Come, let us lift suspicion’s thick curtains with us she is hidden in the drapes of the once again, camel‐litter. Unite once more the sundered, wipe clean Now, who will ask of the morning breeze the division’s stain. secret of the peace of the rose? Too long has lain deserted the heart’s warm Who will understand the mystery of the habitation— nightingale’s lament in the garden? Come, build here in our homeland an altar’s He never neglected reality when his thoughts new foundation, took flight. And rise a spire more lofty than any of this The bird kept its eye on the nest as it flew. globe, With high pinnacle touching the hem of There will be others to show us the delicacies heaven’s robe! of a subject— And there at every sunrise let our sweet The way that the finer points of their thought chanting move soar to the sky! The hearts of all who worship, pouring them There will be those who paint pictures of the wine of love: bitterness of time to make us weep or show Firm strength, calm peace, shall blend in the us a new world engendered by their hymns the votary sings— imagination. For from love comes salvation to all earth’s In this garden more nightingales of Shiraz living things. will be born. There will come forth myriad magicians, [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] those who possess the art of spells. DAGH From the temples of verse will arise thousands like Azar The fame of Ghalib has long been buried in And new wine‐pourers will give us wine to the ground. drink from new measures. Mahdi Majruh dwells in the city of the silent. Many commentaries will be written on the In exile, Death broke the win‐jar of Amir, book of the heart. But in the eyes of the assembly still resides the There will be, oh dream of youth, many an intoxication of the wine of Amir. interpretation of you. But today, my fellow singers, the whole But who will draw exactly the picture of love? garden is in mourning. The archer has been taken away, who will fire The bright candle has been extinguished. The the arrow at the heart? company of poetry is lamenting. I sow the seeds of tears in the soil of poetry. The nightingale of Delhi made its nest in that You also weep, oh earth of Delhi! I weep for garden, Dagh. Where its nightingale fellow‐singers are in the Oh Jahanabad! Oh wealth of the assembly of garden of existence. verse! Dagh is dead. Alas! His corpse brings Your garden has once more today been adornment to our shoulders. trampled by autumn. The last poet of Shajahanabad is silent. 154 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

That colourful flower of yours has departed With the wind’s wild blast the nimbus grew like perfume. to mounting and soaring mass, Ah! The dwelling‐place of Urdu is bereft of And towering still higher it showered the rain Dagh. out over the grass. Perhaps there was no great attraction in the It has made for the mountain saplings their dust of his native‐land. own miraculous tent. That full‐moon was hidden in the soil of the Here let them rest, the wanderers, who from Deccan. journey in vale are spent. The wine‐pourers who were there have been [Translated by H.T. Sorley] taken from us and the tavern is empty. As a monument to the assembly of Delhi only FIREFLY AND BIRD Hali remains. Early one Evening the sweet voice was heard, The injustice of death makes desire weep tears As it sat on a twig, of a carolling bird. of blood. When it spied something glittering there on The hunter of death fires his arrow in the ground darkness. It flew to the place and a firefly it found. But my tongue can utter no complaint. The firefly said: “Bird of the musical charm, The colour of the autumn is also the cause of Take your sharp beak away: do a poor one no the garden’s permanence. harm, These are all the effects of the one universal Allah granted you song and gave the flower law: scent: The perfume leaves the garden; the rose‐ That same Allah to me did my lustre present. plucker bids farewell to the world. My being is hidden in garments of light, [Translated by D.J. Matthews] The zenith of creatures that flutter in flight. If your dulcet note has of Heaven the ear, CLOUD The eye of that Heaven sees my gleaming clear. Today again from the east that thick black While Nature with sparkle did cover my wing nimbus fares It gave you the song that charms hearts when And Surban’s mountain‐crest a dark‐hued you sing. covering ears. It instructed yours beak in all musical grace When the face of the sun was hid in the skirt And made me the torch of the garden’s space. of its misty course, Flashing it gave you: to me it gave voice. A chill wind raced on the cloud as a horseman My portion is radiance: in song you rejoice. speeds his horse. Radiance and song in this world are not foes; There is no rumble of thunder: the silence is They cling to each other in harmony close. thick as a pall: Creation’s firm frame is compact of the two: In the strange wine‐shop of the heavens a All heights and all depths are to both alike quiet lies over all. due. It has ordered a scheme for the garden of joy They mingle together to make every thing; that will always bless In this garden from both comes the beauty of And has come to fasten a gem on the hem of spring.” the flower’s long dress. The bloom that once had nodded in the heat [Translated by H.T. Sorley] of the sun’s fierce ray To fall in earth’s lap, it rouses from sleep to a lifting day. The Call of the Marching Bell 155

THE CHILD AND THE CANDLE In the city, the forest, the wilderness, the habitation is Beauty O Child with moth‐like nature, “How strange The soul but longing for some lost object is that Or else why is it lamenting in wilderness like You keep gazing at the flame of the candle for a bell? hours It is restless even in this general splendor of What is this movement, when you are in my Beauty lap? Its life is like a fish out of water. Are you intending to embrace the light? Though your tiny heart is surprised at this [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] spectacle ON THE BANK OF THE RAVI But this is recognition of some object already seen! Raft in its music, in evening’s hush, the Ravi; The candle is but a flame, you are the Light But how it is with this heart, do not ask— embodied Hearing in these soft cadences a prayer‐call, Ah! In this assembly that is manifest, you are Seeing all earth God’s precinct, here beside concealed The margins of the onward‐flowing waters It is not known why the Nature’s hand made Standing I scarcely know where I am it manifest! standing. And concealed you in the dark soil’s mantle With palsied hand the taverner of heaven Your light has been concealed under the veil Has brought the cup: red wine stains of Intellect! evening’s skirt; The veil of Cognition is a mere mist to the Day’s heading caravan has made haste wise eye! towards What is called life really a mirage it is Extinction: twilight smoulders like hot ash A dream, a swoon, an ecstasy, oblivion it is Of the sun’s funeral pyre. In solitude The Nature’s assembly is the Beauty’s Far off, magnificent, those towers stand, boundless ocean where For the discerning eye every drop is the The flower of Mughal chivalry lies asleep; Beauty’s storm A legend of Time’s tyranny is that palace; Beauty is in the frightening silence of the A book, the register of days gone by; mountain No mansion, but a melody of silence— In shedding of sun’s light, and in night’s No trees, but an unspeaking parliament. darkness It is in the morning sky’s mirror‐like glitter Swiftly across the river’s bosom glides In the night’s darkness and in the twilight’s A boat, the oarsman wrestling with the floridity waves, It is in the disappearing relics of the old A skiff light‐motioned as a darting glance, magnificence Soon far beyond the eye’s carved boundary. In the small child’s effort to commence So glides the bark of mortal life, in the ocean speaking Of eternity so born, so vanishing, It is in the harmony of the denizens of the Yet never knowing what is death; for it rose‐garden May disappear from sight, but cannot perish. In the nest‐building efforts of the tiny little [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] birds In the mountain stream, in the ocean’s freedom is Beauty 156 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

THE TRAVELLER’S REQUEST May I see the same nest in the garden again May I come back to put my forehead at my (At The Tomb Of Hazrat Mahbub Ilahi Of Delhi) parents’ feet What angels recite is your exalted name Whose efforts made me the confidante of love Your threshold is exalted, your munificence is That candle of the audience of the Holy general Prophet’s descendants The stars are stable by the attraction of your Whose threshold I will always consider like Love the Harem Your system is like the system of the sun Whose breath opened the flower bud of my The pilgrimage to your tomb is life for the longing heart By whose benevolence I became sagacious Your status is higher than those of Masih and Pray to the terrestrial and the celestial world’s Khidar Lord The Beloved’s Nature is veiled in your Love That I may again become happy with paying High is your dignity, exalted is your homage to him veneration That second Yusuf to me, that candle of If my heart has a stain the stain is of your love Love’s assembly But if cheerful I am, I am the rose of your Whose brotherly love has given soul’s spring tranquillity to me Leaving the garden I have come out like the Who in his love, destroying the book of “you rose of your fragrance and I” I am determined to go through the test of Has brought me up to my youth in the perseverance environment of happiness I have started with zeal from the homeland’s May he remain happy in the world like rose tavern Whom I have always held dearer than my life The pleasure of the wine of knowledge is Blooming, my heart’s bud may become a speeding me up flower! I am gazing at the mercy’s cloud, I am the May this traveler’s request be accepted! wilderness tree [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] With the Mercy of God I am not in need of the gardener GHAZALS May I be living elegantly in the world like the Do not look at the garden of existence like a sun stranger May I be bestowed with that ladder by your It is a thing worth looking at, look at it blessings repeatedly May I be so far ahead of the fellow travelers You have come into the world like a spark, That I may be regarded as the destination by beware the caravan Lest your ephemeral life may end suddenly, May my pen not hurt anybody’s feelings beware May I have complaint against none under the Granted that I am not worthy of your Sight sun You should look at my zeal, and look at my Whose effect may penetrate the hearts like a perseverance comb If your eyes have been opened by the longing May I receive such a clamor from your for Sight threshold Look for the foot prints of the Beloved in The nest I had made by picking up bits and every lane pieces The Call of the Marching Bell 157

* So the sky may turn around to annihilate me best If you had not come I would have had no Collect your harvest first by picking it grain occasion for contention by grain But what reluctance in making the promise Some thunderbolt will surely come out to was? annihilate it Your messenger disclosed every secret I had regard for the failure of the hunter, O O Lord! What fault of Man in this was? friend You recognized Your Lover in the full Otherwise, why could I come over flying for assembly one grain? How alert Your eye in the middle of the The heart should not sing freedom’s song in ecstasy was! this garden True! Reluctant he was to come, O messenger Ah! This garden is not suitable for such odes. But tell me what the manner of denial was Musa was effortlessly attracted to Tur * How strong, O Zeal your attraction was! What can I say how I got separated from my Your fame continues somewhere, O Iqbal! garden Some magic, not your speech it was And how I got imprisoned in the net of greed

It is strange that the whole world being * against me How the recipient of honor of respectability I O Lord! Strange is the piety of the preacher have been He has animosity towards the whole world Some demand of showing and seeing was on Nobody has so far understood that Man the Tur Where he is going, and from where he has What do you know, O heart! How it was come? decided? From the same source has the night obtained The desire to be without any desire is also a darkness desire From where the star has obtained brightness How the heart’s bird freed from the net of The tale of our compassion is greed was Always related by our sympathizer Those desirous of seeing You, see You here Very subtle are the ways of the preacher also He trembles on hearing the sound of adhan! Then how the Last Day’s promise a test of * patience was I should procure such straws for my nest from The Perfect Beauty itself may be the cause of somewhere this unveiling For burning which the lightning may be How became self‐apparent what concealed in restless curtains was Alas! O despair! The sky broke it down Death as a recipe still remains, O separation’s intently pathos! Whichever branch I selected for my nest The physician is insane, how I deemed You are contending with the seventy two incurable was nations O admonishing eye! Have you ever seen, how One goblet of yours suits the whole world the rose best Having been born out of dust became colorful I should create some such longing in my heart The purpose of interrogation for deeds was to disgrace me 158 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Otherwise all as to how and why it happened The real Seeing is that one should not try to obvious was see Him My destruction was something worth I am the extreme Love, Thou art the extreme witnessing Beauty What can I say how l facing Him was One should see me or witness Thy Spectacle The Beloved’s Beauty is the creator of excuse * for Love’s crime Unusual in state, distinct from the whole One need not create a new excuse on the Day world they are of Judgment O Lord! Inhabitants of which habitation these O Companion! It is not possible to close this Lovers are? zealous eye! Even during pathos’s cure I desperately love In what other manner should one try to pathos witness Him Blisters’ thorns have been extracted with With what thought did Kaleem become needle’s point insistent on the Tur? O Lord, the garden of my hopes may remain One should request for the Sight if he has the prosperous power for the Sight I have raised these plants watering them with Even the eyebrow’s movement is unwelcome my blood to the Sight The stars’ silence at night makes me weep With the eye of the narcissus should one see Strange my Love is, strange my Laments are Thee Do not ask me of the pleasure of remaining The pleasures of the Longings of Love will be destitute manifest Hundreds of nests have been made and If one has Longing like me for a few days destroyed by me * Being a stranger to the journey’s companion is not good What should I say how much Longing for O spark! Wait, after all we are also going to dejection I have disappear The elegance of my market is only up to the Expectation for the houri has taught ardent desire for losing everything to the preacher I am the sot who himself becomes garden by Only in appearance simple and straight the Wine’s Light forward these people are Rose’s love is only up to the departure of the Why should not my verses be dear to me, O unkind cup bearer Iqbal Hunter’s enhancement of garden’s beauty is These the painful laments of my heart are till start of my melodies As for the thunderbolts’ restlessness, it is up * to my nest One should not see the Spectacle with the I am that handful of dust, which is changed to material eye wilderness by distress’ grace If one wants to see Him he should open the Do not ask me of my span, it is from the earth insight’s eye to the sky His talking lip was death’s message to I am the bell, complaint is asleep in my whole Mansur nature How can anybody dare to claim Someone’s The silence of mine only is up to the caravan’s Love now departure Close your eyes if you want taste for the Sight With a tranquil heart create means of attaining your aims The Call of the Marching Bell 159

Because the whirlpool’s knot is only up to the This pearl is not available in the treasures of water’s flow kings Silence is death in the garden of Love, O Do not ask of these Devotees, if you have nightingale faith, you should look at them This life is only up to observance of the They have the illuminated palm up their wailing’s custom sleeves In youth, there is Sight’s zeal as well as The insightful eye for whose spectacle is Longing’s pleasure tantalized The happiness of our house is only up to the That elegance of congregation is in these very guest’s presence recluses Disgraced though I am in the whole world Burn the produce of your heart with some but, O ignorance such spark I understand that my Love is known only to That the Last Day’s sun may also be among my confidante your gleaners For Love search for some heart which would * become mortified The one I was searching for on the earth and This is the wine which is not kept in delicate in heaven wine glasses Appeared residing in the recesses of my own The Beauty itself becomes the Lover of whose heart Beauty When the reality of the self became evident to O Heart! Does someone among the beautiful my eyes has that beauty? The house appeared among residents of my Someone became highly excited at your grace own heart of Ma’arafna If it were somewhat familiar with taste of Your rank remained among the most elegant rubbing foreheads of all the Lovers The stone of Ka’ba’s threshold would have Manifest Thyself and show them Thy Beauty joined the foreheads some time O Majnun! Have you ever glanced at yourself Talks have continued among the sagacious That like Layla you are also sitting in the litter since long time The months of the union continue flying like Silent, O Heart! Crying in the full assembly is moments not good But the moments of separation linger for Decorum is the most important etiquette months! among the ways of Love O seaman, how will you protect me from It is not possible for me to deem my critics being drowned bad As those destined to drowning get drowned Because Iqbal, I am myself among my critics in the boats also * The one who concealed His Beauty from Kalim Allah Completion of your Love is what I desire The same Beloved is manifest among Look at my sincerity what little I desire beloveds It may be oppression or the promise of The breath of Lovers can light up the unveiling extinguished candle Something testing my perseverance I desire O God! What is kept concealed in the breast of May the pious be happy with this Paradise the Lovers? Only to see your Countenance I desire Serve the fakirs if you have the longing for Though I am but a tiny little heart I am so Love bold 160 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

To hear the same Lan tarani I desire I am the falsehood which is annihilated by the O assembly’s companions! I am existing only Truth for a few moments From the knowledge’s sea divers came out I am the dawn’s candle, I am about to be with pearls in hand extinguished Alas, O deprivation! A mere pebble collector I have divulged the secret in the full assembly on the sea shore I am I am very insolent, punishment I desire My disgrace itself is the demonstration of my nobility * I am the negligence which the angels ardently When that Beniaz opens His Graceful Hand desire Why should the niazmand be not proud of his O the existence’ assemblage! Be not proud of humility your beauty You have confined Him to the ‘Arsh, O You are a mere picture of the assemblage, I preacher! am the assemblage What kind of God would keep away from His O Iqbal! I am in constant search for myself people? I am the traveler as well as the destination In my view he is not a rind at all, O * cup‐bearer Who would distinguish between ecstasy and Majnun abandoned habitation, you should lack of it abandon wilderness also Always remain very attentive to the heart, If there be ambition for Sight, you should this orchestra is such abandon Layla also If broken, it would produce the music of the O preacher! Perfection of abandonment Secret attains the objective Somebody should ask how it hurts the As you have abandoned the world, abandon preacher the Hereafter also If God shows His Grace even to the sinner Suicide is better than the way of taqlid O God! From where does poetry acquire its Seek your own path, abandon the love of heat? Khizr also This is a thing with which even stone would Like the pen the un‐Islamic message is on soften your tongue Nightingale’s lament comes from Abandon unjustified pride in the un‐Islamic discrimination between tulip and rose objects also No one in the world should open the Theology is no pleasure if heart does not have discriminating eye Love’s pathos The arrogance of piety has taught the If you are not the Wounded, you should preacher abandon fluttering also To use abusive language to the people of God Weep like the dew on flowers and leave the Such wind should blow from India, O Iqbal garden Which would blow me as dust to Hijaz Abandon the desire of staying in this garden also * The custom of Love is abandonment of all I bear hardships on myself, I am unconcerned Abandon temple, mosque, and church also with others This is not business, this is ‘ibadat of God! Alas! How strange, I am the oppressor, I am O ignorant one, abandon the longing for the ignorant reward also I existed only till the time Thy Splendor It is good to guard Intuition with Intellect appeared But sometimes you should let it go alone also The Call of the Marching Bell 161

What life is that which is dependent on Which angels always guarded from the ken of others? Adam’s soul destined by it to live. Abandon dependence on the life of fame also The alchemist was ever on the watch Repeated request is a kind of boldness! O Knowing this recipe more precious than the Kaleem Great Name itself. The condition for approbation is to abandon Till seemingly saying his orisons, he nearer urging also drew As the preacher brought proof in support of And gained the strictly guarded pedestal, his wine constant effort yielding in the end the fruit Iqbal insists that he should abandon drinking of his desire for which he burned. also. And having learnt it, he went forth to seek through the vast field of possibilities for its [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] ingredients and collected them; Yea! what is there that can be hid from those who know the halls where truth for ever dwells. From stars he took their brightness; from the PART TWO moon the marks of burnt‐out passions of the 1905—8 past; And from night’s floating and dishevelled tresses a little darkness; LOVE From the lightning he received its As yet the tresses of the bride of night were restlessness; and purity from houris; not familiar with their graceful curls; And the gentle warmth that runs rippling And the stars of heaven had tasted not the from healing breath of Mary’s son. bliss of whistling motion through the depths Then from the quality of Providence he took of space. that splendour which dependeth not on The moon in her new robes looked rather aught else than itself, strange And from the dew and angels took he their And knew not revolution’s ceaseless law. humility. From the dark house of possibilities the world Then in the waters of the spring of life he had just emerged to spin along, made them to dissolve; No joy of life had throbbed as yet within the And from the Throne of Most High they furthest limits of immensity. called this essence “Love.” The order of existence scarcely had begun That alchemist sprinkled this liquid on the unfolding to perfectionment; new sprouting being, It seems as if the world, like a ring whose And its magic touch released the spell‐bound socket waiteth for its precious stone, longed process of the worlds. to evolve the archetypes to come. Motion appeared in atoms; forthwith they They say there was an alchemist on high, abandoned their repose, Dust of whose footsteps sparkled even more And roused themselves embracing their than Jamshid’s crystal cup.3 affinities again. And on the pedestal of heaven there was The suns and stars rolled in majestic curves, engraved Elixir’s wondrous recipe, The buds received fresh tints, and poppy flowers were branded with the burning marks of Love. 3 “Wherein the king beheld the marvels of a [Translated by Umrao Singh Sher Gil] universe,” adds Umrao Singh in paranthesis. 162 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

BEAUTY’S ESSENCE If Beauty has ecstasy of elegance you too give elegant reply Beauty asked God one day O Tavern‐keeper! Pleasure is the only effect of This question: ‘Why West’s wine Didst Thou not make me, in Thy world, It does not have pleasure of affliction, give me undying?’ the home‐made wine And God replying— Do you not know? The old congregation has ‘A picture‐show is this world: all this world changed A tale out of the long night of not‐being; For God’s sake do not give them And in it, seeing materialism’s wine. Its nature works through mutability, That only is lovely whose essence knows SWAMI RAM TIRATH decay.’ O Impatient drop! You are in the bosom of the The moon stood near and heard this colloquy, sea The words took wing about the sky You were a pearl earlier, now you are an And reached the morning‐star; invaluable pearl Dawn learned them from its star, and told the Ah! How gracefully you opened the secrets of dew— life It told the heavens’ whisper to I am still a prisoner of the discriminations of Earth’s poor familiar; life And at the dew’s report the flower’s eye filled, The life’s clamor on destruction became the With pain the new bud’s tiny heartbeat thrilled; Last Day’s tumult Springtime fled from the garden, weeping; The spark on being extinguished became Youth, that had come to wander there, went Azar‘s fire temple creeping The denial of Existence is the Love’s gesture Sadly away. of the informed heart In the river of La is concealed the pearl of [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] Illallah THE MESSAGE The meaning of the end is hidden from the unsightful eye Love made you acquainted with the taste of Mercury is only raw silver, when its affliction restlessness stops, Like assembly’s candle give affliction’s gift to The Ibrahim of Love is the destroyer of the the assembly idol of existence The illuminating Love depends on God’s The ecstasy of Tasnim of Love is the cure of Benevolence awareness. To whomever He may give without restriction of temple or Harem ADDRESSED TO THE STUDENTS OF Like the candle the mantle of light he does not ALIGARH COLLEGE get Whom God does not give effective wail in the The message of others is different, my world message is different He is in the star, the moon, the dawn’s theatre The style of address of the one afflicted with of display Love is different You need not apply discrimination’s You have heard the laments of the bird under collyrium to the Sightful eye the net Love is exalted above the customs and usages Also listen to the laments of the bird on the of prayers roof tops which are different The Call of the Marching Bell 163

Call was coming from the mount, “Life’s Behind the veil of light in the moon‐lit night secret is peace” Just like the Kaleem’s radiant palm in the The frail ant was saying “The pleasure of Tur’s effulgence struggle is different” And the flower bud’s fragrance in the wave of The glory of Hijaz’ assemblage is based on garden’s breeze Haram’s Love Similar is my heart in the flood of Thy Love The station of this is different, the system of If Thou art the assembly, I am the assembly’s that is different! splendour Eternal luxury is death if there is no Longing If Thou art the Beauty’s thunder, I am the for Search produce of Love Man’s revolving is different, wine‐cup’s If Thou art the dawn, my tears are Thy dew revolving is different If I am traveller’s night, Thou art my twilight The dawn’s candle left the message that My heart harbours Thy dishevelled hair locks burning is life’s secret My bewilderment is created by Thy picture In the life’s sorrowful abode the condition for Thy Beauty is Perfect, my Love is perfect eternity is different Thou art the spring’s breeze for my poetry’s The wine is still half‐mature, Love is garden unsuccessful still Thou gave tranquillity to my restless Leave the church’s brick on the pitcher’s imagination mouth still. Since Thy Love took residence in my breast New lights have been added to my mirror HE ORNING TAR T M S Love’s nature gets stimulation for Perfection The dawn’s star was weeping and saying this from Beauty “I got the eye but not the leisure for Sight My hope’s trees flourished through Thy Everything has come to life through the sun’s favour energy My caravan has reached its destination. Only I did not get protection under the ON SEEING A CAT IN THE LAP OF morning’s skirt After all what is the capacity of the dawn’s SOMEONE star Who has taught you this glancing with It is like bubble’s breath, like the spark’s shyness? brightness” Who has taught you the riddle of Love’s I said “O beautiful jewel of the dawn’ s initiation? forehead Love comes out of each grace of yours Do you have fear of death? Come down from Wit is dripping from the blue eyes of yours the sky You see him sometimes, you shy away Drop down from the sky’s height with the sometimes dew Rise up sometimes, lie down and sleep My poetry’s field will be invigorating to you sometimes I am the gardener, Love is its bloom Is your eye bewildered like the mirror? Its foundation is firm like eternity Are you recognized by the glow of knowledge? THE BEAUTY AND THE LOVE You strike him with wrists, this is a strange Just as the moon’s silver boat is drowned playfulness! In the storm of sun’s light at the break of Is it aversion or anger? Or a way of Love it is? dawn You will be removed from the lap if you will Just as the moon‐like lotus disappears be naughty 164 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

You will be beaten if the flower on the breast Let me bare to its nakedness my hidden will fall thought; What are you longing for? What are you Make plain all the truth of being’s sad plight. seeking? [Translated by H.T. Sorley] Ah! Are you also in Love with the same thing? MOON AND STARS The feeling for Beauty is not special to Man Trembling at the chill breath of dawn Like the heart it is present in everything The fearful stars said to the moon: In the flask of time Love is like the pure wine ‘About us lies heaven’s changeless scene Love is the sun’s spirit, and the blood in Where wearied we must shine, still shine, moon’s veins Tasked to move on, on, morn and eve— Its pain is concealed in every speck’s core To move, to move, for ever move! This is the light which is reflected in No creature of this world knows rest, everything Nowhere can fabled peace exist, It causes happiness somewhere, and sorrow All things condemned by tyrant laws somewhere To wander, stars, men, rocks, and tress— It is pearl somewhere, tear somewhere, dew But shall this journeying ever end, somewhere. Ever a destination find?’ [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] ‘Oh my companions,’ said the moon, THE BUD ‘You who night’s harvest‐acres glean, On motion all this world’s life hangs: When the bud shows itself in the morning’s Such is the ancient doom of things. fresh beauty Swift runs the shadowy steed of time It reveals at that moment its bosom of gold: Lashed by desire’s whip into foam, It quaffs sparkling wine from the tavern of And there’s no loitering on that oath, dawning For hidden in repose lurks death: And draws from sun’s goblet the life it can They that press on win clear—the late, hold. The laggard, trampled underfoot. It rends the sun’s heart, its own head And what the goal of all this haste?— extending: Its cradle love, beauty its quest.’ And oh: what delight it has of that rending. [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] At times, o sun of mine, you too raise your veil: THE UNION As the glamour of my gaze spins all restless O Nightingale! The rose whose search made apace. me flounced Let the heat of thy radiance in me find abode By dint of good luck that rose I have finally And that vision’s reflection fill all mirror’s found space. I used to flounce myself, I used to make Let your gleaming become at the life of my others flounced heart I used to feel shy when I found you singing And my soul in your light as in cradle‐bed beautifully swing. A mere restless heart was not in my bosom, it And little by little bring again flowing joy was mercury In my grief shining clear as the jewel in a ring. I was impatient for fulfillment of the Longing The vision of you let me put far away of Love And just like a bud live in your lap of light. The Call of the Marching Bell 165

My misfortune was famous in the assembly of In your eye is Its climax, O Sulaima! the rose HE NFAITHFUL OVER My morning was the reflection of my dark T U L night 1 With my breath I have a blood‐stained knife O Iqbal! You are a strange mixture of in the bosom opposites Under the cloak of silence I have Judgment You are the elegance of assembly’s crowd as Day’s uproar well as alone Now that distress does not exist in my O lunatic with colorful song! Your struggles reflections’ world and efforts My reciting ghazals is no longer irksome to Are the garden’s beauty as well as wilderness’ rose garden’s assembly adornment With the heat of Love my blisters became You are the associate of stars due to your flames flight’s elegance Now playing with thunderbolts are my O land traveler your steps also traverse the wailings sky The rouge of Love has changed this dark dust Your forehead is in prostration in the midst of into a mirror preoccupation with wine And I see the old companion’s reflection in In your system are some colors of the system the mirror of goblets also By becoming a prisoner I gained my freedom Like flower’s fragrance you are devoid of By ruining the heart I got prosperity for my color’s dress house Though you are a creator of wisdom you are My star is shining with this sun’s light also insane By whose path’s dust the moon light is shy Like waves you are running to the destination By a glance you taught me the rules of without foot‐prints annihilation And then you are also left behind like the sea‐ How cool the day that has burnt away the shore motes from me Female beauty has the effect of electricity for SULAIMA your nature And strangely enough your loves are The one whose manifestation witnessed the unconventional also astronomer’s eye Your existence depends on the amusement’s In the sun, in the moon, in the assembly of law stars Are you prostrating only at a single door Whom the Sufi found in the dark recesses of step? his heart Among the beautiful you are famous for Whom the poet saw in the midst of elegance infidelity of Nature O fickle‐minded! You are famous as well as Whose brilliance exists, whose fragrance infamous persists You have come into the world with mercury’s In the pearls of dew, in the shirts of flowers nature Who has inhabited the wilderness by Your restlessness is lovable, you are very becoming tranquillity restless Whose Presence creates the uproar in the midst of the garden Though His Beauty is manifest in everything 166 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

2 As a picture, I have complaint against my Painter What the disturbance of love has turned into If the Beauty was so short‐lived in existence’ wilderness assembly I keep that handful of dust concealed under Why then do I keep such a boundless the cloak imagination? It has thousands of facets, each of a different I am constantly struggling in the Longing’s color wilderness I keep such a multi‐faceted diamond in my I am the ocean’s wave, I carry my destruction breast on my shoulder The poet’s heart, is but intoxication’s toil and hustle THE UNSUCCESSFUL EFFORT What do you know, what I keep inside my breast! The dawn is vexed by separation from the sun In every intoxication of Love there is a new The twilight’s eye is raining blood for the effulgence of Longing evening star I am restless, I have a heart unacquainted The day’s Qais has the pining for the night’s with rest Layla Though a new beauty every moment is the The morning star is restless for perpetual sight’s object radiance I have a firm covenant of fidelity with the The sky’s polar star was saying to the stars’ Beauty caravan Beniazi has created my nature’s Niaz “Companions! I am tantalized for the pleasure I keep the struggle for the Longing like the of walking” zephyr Springs desire rivers, rivers love the ocean The spectacle of a single flying spark The ocean wave is in love with the full moon Cannot be assuasive as I have a thunderous The eternal Beauty which is veiled in tulips heart and roses What may fulfill every demand of the nature Is considered to be restless for general of Love manifestation Ah! Attainment of that Perfect Effulgence is Ask Khizr of blessed steps for the secret of life my aim Everything is alive with un‐achieved effort The search for the Whole misguides me into THE SONG OF GRIEF It’s parts The Beauty is boundless, I have the incurable My life is similar to that of the silent violin pathos The lap of which is full of all kinds of My life depends upon Love’s extreme melodies compassion The harp of the universe is sacrificed on But I keep the Love free of customs of fidelity whose silence The truth is that lack of imagination produces Every string of which is the grave of fidelity hundreds of melodies I have a new Resurrection Day ever fresh in The silence of which is the custodian of my heart music’s perfection Cup‐bearer’s bounty is like dew, heart’s And the silence of which is not obligated to capacity demands oceans any uproar I am always thirsty, I have a burning fire Ah! The hope of my Love was never fulfilled under my foot This instrument was never hit by the By creating me He created His own critic plectrum The Call of the Marching Bell 167

But sometimes the zephyr of the garden of Wonder is at the beginning and the end— Tur flows What else is there in this house of mirrors? And sometimes the breeze of Houri’s breath The wave of the river glides along, from the sky The river follows its course to the ocean, Which gently touches the string of my life The wind sweeps the clouds along, And frees the imprisoned soul of my life Bearing them on its shoulders, The gentle sound of the music of despair rises The stars are drunk with the wine of fate, The clarion’s call for the caravan of tears rises And lie chained in the sky’s prison; Just as dew’s elegance depends upon the taste The sun, a worshipper who gets up at dawn, for racing And calls out the message ‘Arise!’, The elegance of my nature depends upon Is hiding in the western hills, grief’s melodies! Drinking a cup of reddish wine. All things delight in their very existence, HE HORT IVED OY T S ‐L J They are drunk with the wine of being. You should not tell me, “Death is a message But there is no one to drive away his of luxury and pleasure” sorrow— You should not draw the picture of Sharab‐i‐ How bitter are the days of man! Tuhur’s ecstasy– [Translated by Mustansir Mir] Do not feel grieved by separation from the Houri THE MANIFESTATION OF BEAUTY Do not present the Houri in the mirror of Beauty’s manifestation which gives words restlessness to Longing Do not make me fascinated by the beautiful Which youth nurtures in its fancy’s lap cup‐bearer By which this ephemeral universe becomes Do not describe the Houri, do not relate the eternal Salsabil’s story By which youth becomes a colorful tale I do not doubt Paradise being the place of Which teaches us to be meditating peace To be escaping the present state’s scene Your message is not proper for the life’s Which removes the immaturity of perceptions prime! Which makes Intellect a slave to impressions Ah! How long should youth linger in hope Ah! Does that Beauty exist anywhere or not? Joy is not joy for which you remain waiting O Lord! Does that jewel exist on the What worth is the beauty which is in need of universe’s ring? the discerning eye Which is obligated for the tomorrow for its [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] manifestation ONE EVENING Strange is the feeling for life “Today’s joy” is the belief of youth. (BY THE NECKAR AT HEIDELBERG) [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Silent is the moonlight pale, The boughs of all the trees are still, MAN The music‐maker of the vale Nature has played a strange and wanton Hushed, and the green robes of the hill; joke— Fallen into a swoon creation Making man a seeker of secrets, Sleeps in the bosom of the night, But hiding the secrets from his view! And from this hush such magic grows, The urge for knowledge gives him no rest, No more now Neckar’s current flows; But the secret of life remains undiscovered. Silent the starry caravan moves 168 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Onward, no bell tinkling its flight, Saving your skirt from idols become the dust Silent the hills and streams and groves, of the way of Hijaz. All Nature lost in contemplation. [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Oh heart, you too be silent: keep Your grief hugged close, and sleep. SEPARATION

SOLITUDE I am wandering in search of some lonely retreat. Solitude, night—what pang is here? I have hid myself here by the great Are not stars your comrades? Clear mountains’ feet. Majesty of those silent skies, Like the halting attempts of a small boy to Drowsed earth, deep silence of the worlds, pray, That moon, that wilderness and hill— The spring’s music is broken—my joy hath White rose‐beds all creation fill. full sway. Sweet are the teardrops that have pearled To the red twilight’s throne comes the eve’s Like gleaming gems, like stars, your eyes; starry race; But what thing do you crave? All Nature, ‘This a vision of heaven thus to see beauty’s Oh my heart, is your fellow‐creature. face. [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] Still eve’s separation’s excuse for my mood; Some memory has taught me how music is HE ESSAGE OF OVE T M L good. Listen O seeker of heart’s pathos! I am Naz, My life is all restless—unrest is mine own— you should become Niaz It is just as I were like some small boy alone. I am the Ghaznavi of heart’s Somnath, you When the night is all dark he commences to completely become Ayaz hum Greatness in the world is not associated with And he thinks that the sound from some other the Alexander’s splendor has come. Your breast has everything, you should also The lessons of patience I teach my heart, become the maker of mirrors As though to night’s sev’rance I show a false The aim of life’s struggle is perfection of your part. Crescent’s grandeur [Translated by H.T. Sorley] You are the world’s oldest Divine Command, be fulfilled like prayer TO ABD AL‐QADIR Be not contented, O gardener, your dignity is Rise, as darkness has appeared on the eastern established by this alone horizon If flowers abound in the garden, you should We should light up the assemblage with become a more ardent beggar blazing songs Gone are those days, these are not the times Our capacity is only a cry of lament like the for wandering in wilderness wild rue Become melted in the world like the We should overturn the assemblage with this congregation’s lighted candle same uproar The individual’s existence is unreal, the We should show the assemblage the effect of nation’s existence is real Love’s polish Be devoted to the nation, become destroyer of We should convert the stone of today into the the unreal’s magic mirror of tomorrow Iqbal! These sectarians of India are working By showing them the effulgence of the lost like Azar. Yusuf The Call of the Marching Bell 169

We should make them more agitation‐prone And freedom to men from the chains of than Zalaykha’s blood superstition. By giving the lesson of the law of growth to Is that cry of God is great silent for ever, this garden Whose reverberations delight the ear to this We should turn the insignificant drop of dew day? into the ocean Oh Sicily! The sea is honoured by you, We should lift our dearest chattel from the You are a guide in the desert of these waters. China’ s temple May the cheek of the ocean remain adorned We should fascinate all with the face of Sa’di by your beauty spot; and Sulaima May the lamps comfort those who measure Look! The Layla’s she‐camel became useless the seas; in Yathrib May your view be ever light on the eyes of the We should make Qais acquainted with the traveller, new longing May waves ever dance on your rocks! The wine should be mature and so hot that with it Once you were the cradle of civilization of the We should soften the heart of the glass, the people, goblet, and the decanter The fire of whose glance was world‐burning The grief which kept us warm in the cold of beauty. the West The nightingale of Shiraz wailed over Opening up the breast we should make it Baghdad, public And Dagh wept tears of blood over Delhi. In the world’s congregation we should live When the heavens scattered the wealth of like the candle Granada to the winds, We should burn ourselves and open up the The sorrowful heart of Ibn Badrun cried out. rivals’ eyes The dirge of your ruin fell to the lot of the “The candle reveals whatever passes through grieving Iqbal: the heart Destiny picked up the heart that was privy to Burning is not the thought which the candle your secrets. conceals.” Whose story is hidden in your ruins? The silence of your footfall has a mode of [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] expression. SICILY Tell me of your sorrow—I too am full of pain; I am the dust of that caravan whose goal you Weep to thy heart’s content, O blood‐weeping were. eye! Paint over this picture once more and show it Yonder is visible the tomb of Muslim culture. to me; Once this place was alive with those dwellers Make me suffer by telling the story of ancient of the desert, days. For whose ships the ocean was a playground; I shall carry your gift to India; Who raised earthquakes in the palaces of the I shall make others weep as I weep here. kings of kings, In whose swords were the nests of many [Translation by Umrao Singh Sher Gil; lightning. revised by the Editors]4 Whose birth was death for the old world, Whose fear caused the palaces of error to tremble;

Whose cry of arise gave life to a lifeless world 4 This translation is based on the 170 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

GHAZALS * * The world will know when the flood of conversation will emerge from my heart The life of Man is no more than a breath! This is not my silence, but is the shrine of the Breath is a wave of air, it is no more than a word of my Longing flow! As the ocean wave said, “My dignity is The flower was depicting life as a smile, but established by flowing” The candle said that it is no more than a cry of The pearl said, “Sitting in shell is the safety of grief! my brightness” The secret of life is a secret till there is a Whose temperament does not deserve are not confidante improved by training When it is open, it is nothing more than the Reflection of the river bank’s cypress does not confidante! prosper by living in the water Somebody should ask the pilgrims of Ka’bah, I did not see any heart in which Longing is O Iqbal not concealed Is the gift of the Harem nothing more than O God! What is Thy universe! It is a picture Zamzam? gallery of Longing * It dawned after death that our life was a spell of greed O God! Teach a little Love to my happy What we called material body, was Intellect. dust‐cloud of greed’s lane It loves fine stitching but my shirt has no Why am I the embodiment of search if collar nothing is concealed? As I got Love’s ardor the angels said on azal’s The sight is Longing for the Spectacle, the morning heart is mad after the Search “You are like the grave’s candle, you have no The garden’s flower bud asked the gardener, assembly” “Why is Man so heartless? No friend is available here, this land is The breaking of my wine glass is occasion for friendless, O Heart! smile in your eyes You want something from me which does not The effulgence of Love emanates from every exist under the sky speck of the existence’ garden The Arab architect made it distinct from the If you know the reality of rose, it is also a whole world combination of color and fragrance” The foundation of our nation’s fort is not All my writings are anachronism, my poetry geographical unity is completely defective Why this coming and going, future’s concern If somebody sees some skill in me it is the is a conceit fault of my critic We are manifest in everything, we do not Decorum requires silence, otherwise Thy have any homeland Mercy is worse than Tyranny Somebody should take my message to the Thou hast given a tiny heart, which also is Makhzan’s editor misled towards greed Activist nations do not have taste for poetic Unity’s perfection is so evident that if you cut literature! with the knife ‘ s tip Sure you would see human blood trickling out of the rose’ vein The age of taqlid has passed, allegorism should depart! The Call of the Marching Bell 171

When the Truth itself is evident who is O Wine! How much enamored you were with authorized to talk? the custom of concealment If I am far from home, my relatives should not After emerging from grape’s veil you were be sad concealed in the decanter Like pearl separation from home is perfecting Knowledge could not comprehend the my elegance Beauty’s effect So much ignorance prevailed in all the * world’s sages Thy splendor is manifest in thunder, in fire, in O Iqbal! I have searched for it in Europe in spark vain Thy luster is evident in the moon, in the sun, The characteristic which was in the beauties in the star of India Thy elegance exists in skies’ heights, and in * earths’ depths It is in the ocean’s flow, and in falling behind We circumambulate the wine‐cup like the of the shore wine’s ref lection Why should Shari`ah be the accuser of the We are offering this prayer from morning till eloquence’ taste? evening I only conceal the meaning of my heart in You are not singular in this O Kaleem metaphors Trees and stones are also talking with God The real life in Man is pervading in O Candle! Search for a new world, because everything here It is in tree, in flower, in animal, in stone, in We are enduring tyrannies of the incomplete star Love The heat of the drop of Love’s tear has O Companions! Silence in this garden is good consumed me As the melodious ones are kept in cages here Boundless fire existed in this little drop of Those whose purpose is pleasure from wine water Are changing the lawful into the unlawful There is no longing in me for reward of the How can you and we reconcile, O preacher Judgment Day As we are making the custom of Love I am the merchant who sees profit in the loss universal! Being unaware of tranquility is existence for it O God! What magic is concealed in the saints, O God! Restlessness of which heart is residing clad in rags! in mercury That they subdue the youth with a single O Iqbal I am silent after hearing the call of glance “Lan Tarani” I shudder at the pleasures of their assemblies Being afflicted with separation I have no Who are getting fame by destroying their strength for importunity homes May the meadows of the motherland be ever * flourishing O worldly congregation! Though your We are saluting you from the ship sailing gatherings were attractive away Some degree of melancholy there was in your When those un‐accustomed to prayers spectacles assemble for one, Iqbal Finally that dust acquired comfort in Love Calling me back from temple they make me Which had been wandering long in Intellect’s their imam. wilderness 172 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

March 1907 The buds started saying that I must be the knower of the garden’s secrets! Time has come for openness, Beloved’s Sight There are thousands of God’s Lovers, who are will be common roaming in the wilderness The secret which silence had concealed, will I shall adore the one who will be the lover of be unveiled now God’s people O Cup‐bearer! Time has gone when wine was This is the world’s custom, O Heart! Even taken secretly winking is a sin The whole world will be tavern, everyone will What will our respect be if you will be restless be drinking here? Those who once wandered insane, will return In the darkness of the night I shall take out to habitations my tired caravan Lovers’ wandering will be the same but My sigh will be shedding sparks my breath deserts will be new will be throwing f lames The Hijaz’ silence has proclaimed to the If there is nothing but show in the aim of your waiting ear at last life The covenants established with desert’s Your destruction from the world will be in a inhabitants will be re‐affirmed breath like spark Which coming out of deserts had overturned Do not ask about the condition of Iqbal, he is the Roman Empire in the same state I have heard from the Qudsis that the same Sitting somewhere by the wayside he must be lion will be re‐awakened waiting for oppression! As the cup‐bearer mentioned me in the wine‐drinkers’ assembly [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] The tavern’s sage said, “He is insolent, he will be disgraced” O Western world’s inhabitants, God’s world is not a shop! What you are considering genuine, will be PART THREE regarded counterfeit Your civilization will commit suicide with its own dagger THE ISLAMIC CITIES The nest built on the frail branch will not be The region of Delhi is adored by my grieved durable heart The caravan of the feeble ants will make fleet In every speck of it the ancestors’ blood is of rose petals asleep However strong the ocean waves’ tumult be it Why should not the land of this desolate will cross the ocean garden be holy? The poppy, roaming in the garden, shows its This region is the shrine of the grandeur of spots to every flower‐bud Islam Knowing that by this exhibition it will be Kings of the Khair al‐Umam are asleep in this counted among the Lovers land O Sight! That was the One you showed us as a Dependent on whose rule remained the world thousand order If this is your state what will be your Memory of assembly’s warmth still renders credibility? the heart restless As I told the turtledove one day the free of The splendor has been burnt but memory of here are treading on dust! the splendor is still secure The Call of the Marching Bell 173

Though Jahanabad also is a shrine for the That Magnificent Emperor got rest in your Muslim midst Baghdad as well is deserving of this Under whose protection the world nations got magnificence security This is the garden the source of whose pride Whose successors became rulers of world’s was empires The wild tulip which was called the culture of Became successors of Caesar, inheritors of Hijaz Jam’s throne Why should not the dust of this habitation be If the Muslim nationalism is restricted to equivalent to Iram place Which witnessed the footsteps of the Neither India nor Persia nor Syria is its base Prophet’s successors Ah Yathrib! You are the Muslim’s homeland The garden whose flower buds were the and his shelter garden’s wealth is this You are the focal point of the rays of his inner The grave yard of those who made Rome feelings tremble is this As long as you exist, we will also flourish in The land of Cordoba also is the light of the the world Muslim’s eye You are the morning of this garden we are the Which shined in Europe’s darkness like the dew’s pearls candle of Tur HE TAR Extinguishing of this lamp dispersed the T S assembly of Millat‐i‐Baida Are you afraid of the moon or the dawn? And lighted the lamp of the present day’s Are you conscious of the end of beauty? materialistic civilization Are you afraid of being robbed of light’s This holy region is the grave of that wealth? civilization Are you afraid of annihilation like the spark? With which the life blood still exists in the The sky has settled you far from the earth veins of Europe’s vines It has wrapped you in gold’s mantle like the The tract of Constantinople, that is the moon Caesar’s city It is outrageous that your feeble life is still in The perpetual banner of the grandeur of the fear Ummah’s Mahdi Your whole night passes in trembling with Like the Haram’s dust this region is also holy fear It is the shrine of descendants of Shah‐i‐ O shining traveler! This habitation is strange Lawlak The rise of one leads to the fall of the other Its breeze is holy like the fragrance of rose The birth of one sun is the death of a myriad A voice is calling from the tomb of Ayyub stars Ansari Annihilation’s sleep is the ecstasy of life’s “O Muslim! this city is the heart of the Nation wine of Islam! Flower bud’s departure is the secret of This city is the reward for millenniums of flower’s birth blood sacrifices!” Is annihilation life’s end, or is the equivalent But you are that land, O the resting place of of life! Mustafa Quiescence is difficult in the universe Even to the Ka‘bah whose sight is better than Only change is permanent in the universe Hajj‐i‐Akbar [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] In the world’s ring you are shining like a gem Your land was the birth place of our grandeur 174 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

TWO PLANETS This traveler is going to his destination since eternity Two planets meeting face to face, Seeing revolutions’ spectacles from the sky’s One to the other cried, ‘How sweet seclusion If endlessly we might embrace, Though quiescence of the star is not possible And here for ever stay! how sweet in the universe If Heaven a little might relent, It has stopped momentarily for saying prayer And leave our light in one light blent!’ for the dead But through that longing to dissolve This earth is full of flowers of life’s In one, the parting summons sounded. variegations Immutably the stars revolve, This earth is the cemetery of many destroyed By changeless orbits each is bounded; civilizations Eternal union is a dream, This grief‐stricken stage is the resting place of And severance the world’s law supreme. kings O admonished eye! Pay the tribute of rosy [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] tears THE ROYAL CEMETERY Though a mere cemetery, this dust ranks with the sky The sky is clothed in the cloud’s old tattered Ah! this is the wealth of an unfortunate robe nation! The mirror of moon’s forehead is somewhat So astounding is the grandeur of mausoleums gloomy That the spectator’s eye evades even winking The moon light is pale in this silent panorama Such an expression of failure is in this picture The dawn is sleeping in the lap of the night Which is impossible to reflect in description’s How astonishing is silence of the trees mirror This silence is the soft tune of Nature’s harp Far from the habitations’ crowds are sleeping The heart of every speck of the universe is Those who were restless with unfulfilled pathos embodied Longings And the silence is a sad sigh on the lips of The grave’s darkness holds the brilliance of existence those suns Ah! That fort, that universal mustering At whose thresholds the sky used to remain ground prostrating Is carrying millennia’s weight on its shoulders Is this the end of these emperors’ Was full of life at one time, now is desolate magnificence? This silence is the cemetery of its past Whose diplomatic policies knew no decline elegance Be it the grandeur of Qaisar or Faghfur’s sway It is the lover of the remains of its old The foe of death’s assault cannot be turned denizens away It is standing on the mountain top like a The result of kings’ life‐efforts also is the sentinel grave There from the cloud’s window above the The last stage on path of magnificence is the sky’s roof grave That young green star is viewing the universe Neither the happy assembly’s commotion nor The earth’s vast expanse is a mere child’s play the genius’ talk to it Not even the wailing people’s whole night’s The story of Man’s failure is known to it by compassion! heart Neither the tumult of the sword in the battle! Nor the cry of blood warming Takbir! The Call of the Marching Bell 175

No call can wake up those who are sleeping The mother earth has always remained No life can return to the desolate breast expecting new nations! The soul in the handful of dust is enduring This highway is acquainted with thousands of injustice caravans When breath enters non‐existence’ flute it is a Kohinur’s eye is familiar with innumerable mere complaint kings Human life resembles the sweet singing bird, Egypt and Babylon are annihilated, not a which mark remains Sat on the branch a while, chirped, flew away The roll of existence does not have even their Ah! For what purpose did we come in the names world, for what purpose did we go away! The evening of death has overpowered the Sprouted from the life’s branch, blossomed, sun of Iran faded away Time has robbed the grandeur of Greece and Death is interpretation of the dream of the Rome king and the poor alike Ah! The Muslim also from the world similarly This atrocious one’s terror is the picture of departed justice The azure cloud appeared over the horizon, The stream of life is a boundless ocean rained and departed And the grave is a wave of this boundless The rose petal’s vein is a string of pearls with ocean dawn’s tears O ambition! Shed tears of blood as this life is Some ray of the sun is enmeshed in the dew unreliable The river’s breast is the cradle for sun’s rays It is the smile of the spark, it is the flammable How beautiful is the sun’s sight at the river straw bank! This moon which is a miracle of the Lord of Juniper is busy in beautifying, river is the the universe mirror Clad in the robe of gold is slowly and proudly For the flower bud spring breeze is the mirror strolling The cuckoo remains calling from the garden’s But in the frightening vastness of the starless nest sky Remains hidden from the human eye in the Its helplessness is worth watching at time of leaves’ privacy dawn And the nightingale, the flowery singer of the What was the moon is a mere piece of cloud garden Whose destruction is in the last tear drop By whose presence is alive the glory of the Similarly unpredictable is the life of nations garden Their glory is a picture of the happy times Is a living picture of the commotion of Love gone by How beautiful is this picture from Nature’s In this world no nation however prestigious it pen! may be In the garden the roses silent assemblies are Can continue its existence till the end of time holding So much accustomed to nations’ destruction is The shepherd boys’ shouts in the valley are the universe echoing That it watches this scene with indifference This old world is so full of life Nothing stays the same without change That in death also is hidden the zest of life The universe’ nature is made of change The petals fall in autumn in the same way The beauty of world’s jewel is in ever‐ As toys fall from the sleeping infant’s hand changing names In this cheerful world though luxury is limitless 176 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

One grief, that is grief of the Millat is always Draws the bright sword from the sheath’s fresh darkness Memories of the age gone by are still fresh in The dawn’s meaning in the eastern horizon is our heart hidden This Ummah cannot erase its kings’ memories As inside the goblet the pleasant wine is form its heart hidden These desolate mansions are excuses for The dawn is under the skirt of the friendly shedding tears breeze Insight has developed in the eye with The noise of the conch is mixed with the call continuous tears of adhan We give to the world the pearls of the All the singing birds woke up by the cuckoo’s weeping eye call We are the remaining clouds of a storm gone Every string of dawn’s system has become by musical There are hundreds of pearls in this cloud’s ADMIN ON A ERSE OF NISI HAMLU breast T V A S Thunder still lurks in this cloud’s silent breast I always remain roaming like the morning It can change the dry wilderness to a flowery breeze vale Roaming is more pleasant in Love than It can change the farmer’s hope from slumber destination to awakening The restless heart reached the land of the The manifestation of this nation’s majesty has Saint of Sanjar passed Where the cure for the malady of impatience But the manifestation of its beauty has not yet is available passed The longing of my heart had not yet reached the lips MORNING’S APPEARANCE The tongue was about to be obligated to the From under the horizon’s skirt is appearing power of speech The day and night’s virgin daughter that is A voice came from the tomb, “The Harem’s dawn inhabitants have The sky has completed benedictions for the A complaint against you, O renouncer of star’s crop ancestors’ ways! The sun has decorated the eastern horizon O Qais! How has your internal warmth cooled with mirrors down? The sky, getting news of the arrival of the sun Because Layla still has the same ways of her Has packed up night’s litter on dust‐cloud’s old self shoulders The seed of La Ilaha did not sprout in your The sun’s flame seems to be the produce of barren soil this field The sterility of your nature is universally Which was sown by sky’s farmer as sparks of disgraced stars O imprudent one! Do you know what your The morning star is on the way from the sky life is? retrieving It is the builder of synagogues, full of church As the last nightly worshiper from the music mosque be retrieving Though your training has been in the House What a beautiful sight it is as somebody of God slowly Your rebellious heart is the lover of temple The Call of the Marching Bell 177

“You learnt fidelity from us but used it on Who always remained ecstatic with pleasure others and exhilaration You snatched a pearl from us but sacrificed it The gardener whose hand is safe from thorn’s on others.” tip Whose love is unaware of the pathos of HE HILOSOPHY OF RIEF T P G separation (Addressed to Mian Fazli Husain Barrister‐At‐ Though grief’s affliction is far from his life Law, Lahore) The secret of life is concealed from his eyes O the one with comprehension of life’s affairs Though the wine of life is the embodiment of Why should not grief and sorrow be easy for pleasure you? The cloud of life carries tears also in its skirt Love is the introduction to the Eternity’s old The bubble of life dances on the wave of grief treatise “Alam’s” Surah is also part of the Book of Life Human intellect is mortal but Love is By losing even a single petal the rose ceases to eternally alive be rose The evening of death is no match to the sun of If the nightingale is unaware of autumn it Love ceases to be nightingale Love is the warmth of life and lasts till The heart’s story is colored with Longing’s eternity blood If annihilation had been intended for the The human music is incomplete without departed beloved lament’s cry Love’s zeal would have also departed from For the discerning eye the grief’s scar is the Lover’s heart insight Love does not die by the beloved’s death For the soul sigh’s mirror is beauty’s It stays in the soul as grief but does not die accompaniment Lover’s immortality is the beloved’s Incidents of grief give perfection to human immortality nature The beloved’s life is unacquainted with The dust of anguish is rouge for the heart’s mortality mirror The spring comes singing from the mountain Youth is awakened from sleep’s pleasure by top grief Teaching the art of singing to the birds of the This orchestra wakes up with this plectrum sky alone Its mirror is bright like the Houri’s cheek For the heart’s bird grief is the strongest But falling on valley’s rocks it is shattered feather The river’s pearls ever more beautiful became The human heart is a secret whose disclosure That is by this fall they water’s stars became is grief The river of flowing mercury spread and Grief is not distress, but is the soul’s silent became scattered song A whole entire world of restless drops Which is locked in the embrace of existence’ became manifest harp But separation is the training for reunion to Whose night is not acquainted with Ya Rab’s those drops plaint! After a while the same river is running like a Whose night does not manifest the stars of silver string tears The flowing river of life is of the same origin Whose heart’s cup does not know breaking Falling from high it became the concourse of with grief humanity 178 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

In the depths of this world we part to reunite The garden of my youth, But we cry considering temporary parting as Could never flower‐like nestle permanent In the desired one’s breast, Though the dead do die they do not perish Nor ever feel the smooth Really they do not get separated from us Touch of the shimmering vest. When Intellect be surrounded in worldly No springtime shall come freighting calamities Its leaves with April’s luck, Or when it be besieged in the dreary night of It withers in this waiting youth For her who comes to pluck. When the heart’s skirt be the battle field of [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] good and evil When journey to the goal be difficult in road’s THE ANTHEM OF THE ISLAMIC darkness COMMUNITY When the Khizr of courage may be resigned from longing China and Arabia are ours; India is ours. When Intellect be helpless and conscience a We are Muslims, the whole world is ours. silent voice God’s unity is held in trust in our breasts. When not a single fellow‐traveler be in the It is not easy to erase our name and sign. vale of life Among the idol temples of the world the first 5 When not even fire‐fly’s spark to show the is that house of God; way there be We are its keepers; it is our keeper. The foreheads of the dead brighten up in this Brought up in the shadow of the sword, we darkness reached maturity; As stars are shining in the darkness of the The scimitar of the crescent moon is the night. emblem of our community. In the valleys of the west our call to prayer [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] resounded; ON A FLOWER‐OFFERING Our onward flow was never stemmed by anyone. When she walks drunk with pride We, oh heaven, are not to be suppressed by About the garden path, falsehood! Flowerets on every side A hundred times you have tested us. Lift up one suppliant voice— Oh garden of Andalusia! Do you remember May she, ah God, make me those days, Of all the rest her choice, When our nest was in your branches? Raise me from low degree Oh waves of the Tigris! You also recognize us; To wake the sunflower’s wrath! Your river still relates our story. —Divine fortune, that she Oh land of purity! We fell and died for your Should pluck you from the stem! honour; Your rivals toss their petals; Our blood still courses through your veins. The shock of severance past, The Lord of Hijaz is the leader of our New bliss of union settles community; Upon your life, whose gem

Shines perfectly at last. 5 Matthews’ translation of this line is flawed. The My heart, though it found love original rather means, “Among the temples of the In feeling hearts it its vassal— world that first House of God,” implying that This heart of mine, pride of many temples existed before Ka‘bah but they were dedicated to deities other than God. The Call of the Marching Bell 179

From this name comes the peace of our soul. The antagonism among world’s nations is Iqbal’s song is like the bell of a caravan;6 created by this alone Once more our caravan measures the road. Subjugation as the goal of commerce is created by this alone [Translated by D.J. Matthews] Politics have become bereft of sincerity is by PATRIOTISM this alone The destruction of the home of the weak is by As a Political Concept this alone In this age the wine, the cup, even Jam is God’s creation is unjustly divided among different nations by it The cup‐bearer started different ways of grace The Islamic concept of nationality is uprooted and tyranny by it The Muslim also constructed a different harem of his own A PILGRIM ON HIS WAY TO MADINAH The Azar of civilization made different idols The caravan has been robbed in wilderness of his own and the destination is far Country, is the biggest among these new The coast of this desolation, that is this dry gods! ocean is far What is its shirt is the shroud of Din My fellow travelers became victims of the This idol which is the product of the new robbers’ dagger civilization The remaining ones turned back to Makkah in Is the plunderer of the structure of the Holy frustration Prophet’s Din How willingly this young man from Bokhara Your arm is enforced with the strength of the gave his life! Divine Unity In the poison of death he has found the taste You are the followers of Mustafa, your of life! country is Islam The robber’s dagger was the Eid’s crescent to You should show the old panorama to the him world “Ah Yathrib” was within heart, Tawhid’s O Mustafaa’s follower! You should destroy slogan was on the lips this idol Fear says, “Do not travel alone towards The limitation to country results in Yathrib” destruction Longing says, “You are a Muslim, travel Live like the fish in the ocean free from fearlessly” country “Would I return to Makkah without paying Renouncing the country is the way of the homage? God’s Beloved Would I not appear confidently before Lovers You should also testify to the Prophethood’s on the Judgment Day? Truth by similar action The traveler through Hijaz’ wilderness has no In political parlance country is something fear for life different This secret is hidden in the emigration of the In Prophet’s command country is something Holy Prophet different Thought safety is in the companionship of the Syrian litter

6 “the bell of a caravan”—or, more correctly, “the Pleasure of Love is in the heart‐breaking call of the marching bell” (this is one of the few affliction of danger occurences of the title phrase in the anthology Ah! How clever this timid Intellect is! itself). 180 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

And the brave man’s feeling how fearless is! From lips accustomed but to praise Hear Thou these words in blame of Thee! QAT`AH From when eternal Time began, Yesterday a desperate Lover was saying with Thy Timeless Self had also been; wailing at the Prophet’s tomb But then no breeze its sweetness spread “The Egyptian and Indian Muslims dare Though the Rose reigned the garden’s queen. destroying the Millat’s foundation! Canst Thou, in justice, but confess, These pilgrims to the West’s sanctuary may O Lord! from whom all favours flow, fake our leadership Had not the south wind toiled in love What bond do we have with those who have The world Thy fragrance would not remained unacquainted with you? know? Outrageous are these “self‐seeking spiritual The glad travail we sought for Thee leaders”, Rejoiced our souls and was our pride— May God protect your Millat Thinkst Thou the followers of Thy Friend They are promoting their own glory by Insanely spread Thy Truth so wide? destroying the Muslims O Iqbal who would listen to you, the Before we came, how strange a sight congregation has changed Was this most beauteous world of Thine! You are telling us these tales of the old in the For here to stones men bowed their heads, new age. And there in trees did ‘gods’ enshrine! Their unenlightened minds could seize [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Nought else but what their eyes could THE COMPLAINT see, Thou knowest, Lord, Thy writ ran not Why should I choose the loser’s role? —Man neither knew nor worshipped Forbear to seek what gain I may? Thee! Nor think of what the morrow holds, And canst Thou say that even once But brood o’er woes of yesterday? One of these did Thy name recite? Why should my ears enraptured hear It was the might of Muslim arms The plaintive notes of Philomel? Fulfilled Thy task and gave them Light. Fellow‐bard! a rose am I To lose me in sweet music’s swell? Yet once there lived the Seljuks here, For I too have the gift of song Turanians too, and wise Chinese, Which gives me courage to complain, Sasanians drew their breath and thrived But ah! ‘tis none but God Himself In rose‐perfumed Iranian breeze; Whom I, in sorrow, must arraign! And elsewhere in Thy peopled world The Greeks of Yunan held their sway, I grant that we have earned repute While sons of Israel side by side As ever reconciled to Fate, With Christian nations had their day. But to Thee still a tale of pain But which among these nations raised I can no longer help narrate. The sacred sword in holy fight, Though we may seem like voiceless Self‐consecrated to Thy cause, lyres, To set their crazy world aright? Within, imprisoned anguish cries; Its urge compels, and I obey, ’Tis we and we alone who thronged Framing these plaintive melodies. As warriors on Thy fields of fray, Hear Thou, O God! these sad complaints And now upon the land we fought From those of proven fealty; And now upon the salt sea spray. We made our Azan’s call resound The Call of the Marching Bell 181

Beneath proud spires in Western lands, And in that land did once again And made that magic melody Revive the worship of Yazdan? Thrill over Afric’s burning sands. Among those nations, was there one The pageantries of mighty kings Who craved Thee as we craved and sought? To us were shows that mattered not, Or risked the perils of fell war Beneath the shade of blades unsheathed That Thy Divinest will be wrought? In Kalima we glory sought. Whose was that conquest‐thirsty sword Our only life was then to face Which won and held the world in fee? The perils 0f Thy holy wars; And whose the Takbeer‐sounding call, To glorify Thy name we died, Which wakened all the world to Thee? Adorned with hallowed battle scars. Whose was the fateful wrath which made Not lust for power for our own sakes All idols shrink in terror just? Our drawn‐sword’s playfulness “There is no god but God,” they cried, inspired, As crumbling down they kissed the dust. Nor roamed we hand‐in‐glove with When worship’s ordained hour was come, Death And furious raged the battle’s fray, For worldly riches we desired. Those men of Hijaz, staunch in Thee, Our people, had they set their hearts Facing Thy Ka‘ba, bowed to pray. On this world’s riches or its gold, Mahmood the king and slave Ayaz, Not idol‐breaking would have gone In line, as equals, stood arrayed, But idols would have bought and sold. The lord was no more lord to slave: We stood our ground like rocks when once While both to the One Master prayed. The foe had met our phalanx dread; Slave or slave’s master, rich or poor, Before our might the bravest quailed No sense of difference then felt, And, vanquished, from the battle fled. For each a brother was to each And those who offered Thee affront When in Thy Presence, Lord, they Our swift, relentless fury faced, knelt. Their mightiest arms we set at nought, And Thou dost know we went about Their insolence and pride abased. At sunrise or when stars did shine, On all men’s minds we set Thy seal, In banquet‐halls of Time and Space, Thy tawhid’s firm and sure impress— Like goblets, filled with tawhid’s wine The selfsame message preached our lips Both heights and lowlands we When swords danced high in battle’s traversed to spread stress. Thy message; O glad pain! Declare Thou whose fierce valour once Not even once, Thou knowest well, Did Khyber’s barriers overthrow? We strove against the world in vain. Or whose resistless might once laid Not only land we bore Thy Word Famed Caesar’s proudest cities low? Glorious across the heaving seas, Who smashed to dust man’s hand‐ Upon our steed of zeal, we rode wrought gods, Unto their darkest boundaries! Those things of straw and earth and We who removed from this world’s book clay? The leaves which were with falsehood And who did unbelieving hosts stained, To spread Thy name and glory slay? We who, from tyrant ignorance, And who was it that quenched and cooled The prisoned human race unchained, The fiery urns of fair Iran ? We who with myriad sajdas filled 182 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Thy holy Kaʹba’s hallowed shrine, And limitless Thy means remain? Whose bosoms reverently held If Thou but will, fountains can flow Thy great and glorious Book Divine— From barren desert and parched sands, If our meed still the obloquy And mirage‐bound a traveller be That we have shirked the Faithful’s part, While walking through green forest How then canst Thou make claim to be lands: The kindly faith‐compelling heart? Yet foemen‐taunted, grace‐deprived, For there are those of other faiths And poorest of the poor are we! Is this Thy recompense to those Among whom many sinners , Some humble, others puffed with pride, Who sacrifice their lives for Thee? Drunken in their effrontery; Thy world, how eagerly, today If some have vision, thousands are On strangers, all its grace bestows: Of little worth, neglectful, worse; For those who walk Thy chosen way And millions upon millions live A world of dreams its glamour throws! From Thy dear, glorious name averse. So be it then, so let us pass, Yet see how still Thy bounties rain Let other nations hold the sway— On roofs 0f unbelieving clans, When we are gone, reproach us not While strikes Thy thunder‐bolt the homes That tawhid too has passed away! Of all‐forbearing Mussalmans! We live here only that Thy Name In idol‐houses, hark! they say, May live here in men’s minds enshrined; “Behold, the Muslim star sinks low! Can saki bid his last adieu How glad they are that now at last And leave Love’s cup and wine behind? Thy Kaʹba’s brave protectors go! Thy court‐yard empties. They depart They say, “The world is well rid now Who came to worship and adore; Of hymn‐reciting camel‐men, The midnight’s sighs, the dawn’s lament, Their Quran folded in their arms, Now Thou wilt miss for evermore! At last they hie them from our ken! They came, they gave their hearts to Thee, Thus they rejoice who own Thee not; They had their recompense, and went. Yet still unmindful seemest Thou But hardly they had seated been Of Thine own One‐ness, Thy tawhid— When from Thy Presence they were sent! Art Thou so unregarding now? They came glad lovers, begging love; That ignorant men who lack the grace With future promise turned away: To ope their lips in conclave high Go, shine Thy Beauty’s lamp about Should have their coffers treasure‐filled, And seek and win them if Thou may! Is not the burden of our sigh; The love of Layla burneth still, But O, that this world’s best should fall And Majnun passion’s yearning knows; To unbelievers from Thy hand In hill and valley of the Nejd While we on promises are fed The fleet gazelle still leaping goes; Of pleasures in a shadowy land! The soul of Love is still the same, Where are those favours which Thou once Still, Beauty’s magic charms enthral, Upon our grateful hearts didst pour ? Thy Ahmad’s feemen still abide; Why cherishest Thou not, O Lord, And Thou art there, the soul of all. The Faithful as in days of yore? Then Stranger! why estranged today Why from the bounties of this life The bond of love ‘twixt Thee and Thine? The Faithful now no profit gain Upon the Faithful, O Unkind, Though still Almighty Thou remainest Why frowns Thy eye of wrath Divine? The Call of the Marching Bell 183

Did we forswear our faith to Thee? When by unbashful glad feet turn To Thy dear Prophet cease to cling? Towards our nesting‐place again. Of idol‐breaking did we tire? Beside the garden fountain now, Or take to idol‐worshipping? Quaffing wine, strangers sit, alas! Or did we weary of Thy Love, The cuckoo’s note their ear regales Or Thy Love’s rapture ever shun? And their hands hold the sparkling glass! Or turned we from the path which trod From all this garden’s riot far, Qaran’s Owais and Salman? Calm in a corner seated too, Thy Takbeer’s unextinguished flame Love‐longing lunatics await Within our hearts we cherish yet: Thy frenzy‐kindling breath of hu! Aethiop Belal’s life, the star The passion for the flame’s embrace— By which our own lives’ course we set! Thy moths—ah, let them once more know; But even if a change hath been, And bid Thy ancient lightning strike And we in Love are less adept, And set these ash‐cold hearts aglow! Or out of resignation’s path Towards the Hijaz turn again Our erring wayward feet have stept; The straying tribe their bridle‐strings! If, unlike trusted compasses, Lo, wingless soars the nightingale Our souls respond not now to you, Aloft, upon its yearning’s wings! And if to laws of faithfulness The fragrance in each blossom hid Our roving hearts are now less true ; Within the garden palpitates, Must Thou too play the fickle flirt But with Thy plectrum wake its strings— With us, with others, day by day, The lute that livening touch awaits! We cannot help the sinful thought Yea, longs to break its prison’s bounds Which shame forbids our lips to say. The string‐imprisoned melody; Upon the peak of Mount Faran And yearning Sinai waits again Thy glorious Faith Thou didst perfect— To burn itself to dust in Thee With one Divinest gesture drew Resolve, O Lord! the travail sore A host of fervid first‐elect; Which this Thy chosen people tries, Thy flaming Beauty filled the world Make Thou the ant of little worth And set a myriad hearts on fire; To Solomon’s proud stature rise! Then blew the quintessence of Love Bring Thou, O Lord, with our grasp In Man to passion’s wild desire. That most rare love for which we pray; Ah, why within our deadened hearts To India’s temple‐squatters teach That holy flame today leaps not? The truth of the Islamic way. Though still those burnt‐out victims we Our hearts’ desires, long unfulfilled, Which once we were, hast Thou forgot? Unceasingly our life‐blood drain; Upon the dale of Nejd is stilled Our breasts, with thousand daggers pierced, The clanging of the captive’s chains; Still struggle with their cry of pain! To glimpse the camel‐litter, Qais The fragrance of the rose has borne No longer with his madness strains The garden’s secret far away— The yearnings of the heart are dead, How sad it is, the traitor’s role The heart itself is cold; so we; The garden’s sweetest buds should play! And desolation fills our house The bloom‐time of the rose is done; For shines not there the Light of Thee. The garden‐harp now shattered lies; O blessed day when Thou shalt come, And from its perch upon the twig, A thousand graces in Thy train Away each feathered songster flies— 184 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

But yet there uncompanioned sits THE MOON A lonely bulbul, all day long; Its throat a‐throb with music still O moon! Your beauty is the dignity of creation And pouring out its heart in song. Circumambulating the earthly sanctuary is your old habit The darkening cypress sways no more; This something like a spot which appears on From shadowy nests its doves have fled; your breast The withered blossoms droop and die, Are you someone’s Lover? Is this the And all around their petals shed; Longing’s scar? Those memoried, old garden walks I am restless on the earth, you are impatient in Of all their former pride lie shorn, the sky Despoiled of raiment green, each You are also in search, I am also in search branch Man is the candle of the congregation which In nakedness now stands forlorn; is also yours Unmoved by passing seasons’ change, The direction in which I am going is also your The songster sits and sings alone: destination Would there were in this garden some The one you are searching for in the stars’ Could feel the burden of its moan! silence This life no more its joy retains, Perhaps is concealed in the commotion of life Nor even death can bring relief; It is standing is the cypress tree, is sleeping in ‘Tis sweet to sit alone and sigh the verdure And eat a sad heart out in grief. Is singing in the nightingale, is silent in the flower bud Out from the mirror of my soul ‘ What gems of thought now strive to Come, I shall show you His luminous cheek shine; In rivers’ mirror, in dew’s looking glass What visions splendid, dreams In forest, in mountains in everything only He sublime, exists Arise within this breast of mine! In the heart of Man, in your cheek only He But in this garden lives not one exists. To see and hear, to feel and know: [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] No tulip with its streak of pain, To sense my heart‐blood’s smarting flow. THE NIGHT AND THE POET

May this sad bulbuls lonely song THE NIGHT To grief each listening soul awake; Why do you roam about in my moonlight, The clangour of these rousing bells So worried, Make drowsy hearts their sleep forsake! Silent as a flower, drifting like perfume? Let Faithful hearts re‐plight their troth, Perhaps you are a jeweller And forge afresh their bond Divine; Dealing in the pearls that are called stars, Let in the long‐parched breast of each Or are a fish that swims in my river of The old thirst wake for sweet old wine! light; The blood of sweet Arabian vine Or a star that has fallen from my brow, O’erflows this wine‐jar Ajamy, And, having forsaken the heights, Although the singer sings in Ind, Now resides in the depths below. Of Hijaz is his melody. The strings of the violin of life are still; [Translated by Altaf Husain] My mirror reflects life as it sleeps. The eye of the vortex) too is sleeping In the depths of the river; The Call of the Marching Bell 185

The restless wave hugs the shore and is The sky’s assembly was busy lighting up the still. sky The earth, so busy and bustling, From the `Arsh‐i‐Barin the call of an angel Slumbers as though no one lived on it. came But the poet’s heart is never at peace— “O sentinels of the night! O stars of the sky! How did you elude my spell? The whole shining nation of yours inhabits the sky THE POET Start such music as may awaken all those I sow pearls in the soil of your moon; sleeping Hiding from men, I weep like dawn. The brightness of your forehead is guide for I am reluctant to come out in the busy day, caravans And my tears flow in the solitude of night. The earth’s denizens consider you the The cry pent up inside me, destiny’s mirrors Whom should I get to hear it, Perhaps they will listen to your call” And to whom can I show my burning Silence departed from this star‐spangled desire? expanse Lying on my chest the lightning of Sinai The sky’s expanse was filled with this music sobs: The Eternal Beauty is produced in the stars’ Where is the seeing eye—has it gone to loveliness sleep? As the image of rose is in the looking glass of My assembly‐hall is dead like the candle at the dew a grave. To be afraid of the new ways, to insist on the Alas, night! I have a long way to go! old ones The winds of the present age are not This is the only difficult stage in the life of favourable to it: nations It does not feel the loss it has suffered. This caravan of life is so fast moving The message of love, Many a nation is trampled in whose race When I can no longer keep it to myself, Thousands of stars are hidden from our eyes I come and tell it to your shining stars. But their existence is also included in our [Translated by Mustansir Mir] group The earth’s denizens did not understand in a THE ASSEMBLY OF STARS whole life While setting, the sun threw at the dark‐ What has come in our comprehension in a clothed evening short span of life Tulip flowers which it had collected from All systems are established on mutual horizon’s basin attraction The twilight of evening put all ornaments of This secret is concealed in the life of the stars” gold on it, STROLLING IN THE CELESTIAL WORLD Nature put off its entire set of silver ornaments As only imagination was my fellow‐traveler The Layla of the night in the litter of silence My path happened to pass through the sky arrived I was flying constantly and no one Started shining the beautiful pearls of the Was acquainted with me in the sky evening’s bride The stars were staring at me in surprise Those living far from the commotion of the My journey was a well guarded secret world I escaped from the alternation of day and Which Man calls “stars” in his own language night 186 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

I escaped from this ancient order of things You are seen in the mosque also on the Eid What can I tell you what Paradise is day It is the climax of material longings Your heart is also softened by the sermon’s Birds were singing in the branches of Tubah effect Unabashed Houri’s beauty was present all You practice reading country’s newspapers around also Beautiful cup‐bearers with wine‐cups in hand Which are obligated to sing your repute’s The audience was crying drink more and songs more” On top of all this you can also write verse Far from the Paradise the eye observed Your poetry’s goblets are full of the wine of There was a dark house, cold and silent Shiraz Countenance of Qais and Layla’s material Whatever are the attributes of leaders, you form have them all Were shoulder to shoulder with its darkness Incumbent on you is rising and joining the It was so cold that being embarrassed by it struggle The Arctic Circle was concealing its face You are not afraid of hunters, as you have When I inquired about its condition wings also The reply of the angel was strange Then why are you not inclined for flight? “This cold place is called Hell “The end of our life is the cemetery It is deprived of fire and light Presently raise tumult in the sky’s vault” The heat of its flames which is borrowed AMA Terrifies the people seeking admonition R When the earth’s people come here Overflowing with the wine of Truth is the cup They bring their embers with them” of India All philosophers of the Western world have ADVICE acknowledged India One day by way of advice I said to Iqbal It is the result of the elegant thinking of Neither you fast nor are regular in prayers Indians You are also perfect in the ways of That higher than the sky is the position of hypocritical people India You pine for London in the heart but you talk This country has had many people of angelic of Hijaz disposition Your lies are also based on what is On whose account world renowned is the expediency name of India The manner of your flattery also is fully India is proud of the existence of Rama miraculous Spiritual people consider him prelate of India Your lecture ends on glorification of the This alone is the miracle of this light of government righteousness Your bright thought is the inventor of That brighter than world’s morning is the methods of entreating evening of India Officials’ doors are also like Maqam‐i‐ He was expert in sword craft, was unique in Mahmud to you bravery Your designs are more interlocked than locks Was matchless in piety and in the enthusiasm of Ayaz’ hair of love Like other people you can also conceal Secrets of self aggrandizement in your cloak of din’s service The Call of the Marching Bell 187

THE MOTOR CAR In the close embracing of love, A stock that trampled under foot How rightly Jogender said this yesterday Dara who wore the crown. “The car of Zulfiqar ‘Ali Khan is so quiet Civilization’s grace they forged Its elegant and graceful pace is not noisy To a world‐disposing law, Fast like lightning, like breeze it is quiet” Those folks that came from the Arab sands I replied “This is not restricted to car That cradled their camel‐men. In the path of life every fleet footed is quiet The simple life was the pride they had The bell is footless from its habit of lamenting In their deeds of glorious show. The caravan of fragrance like zephyr is quiet How does the lovely face feel need The decanter always walks on embers due to Of rouge and mole and art? gurgling In pure plain life and in fear of God But the nature of the gentle‐moving wine‐cup They lived their modest way. is quiet The rich man stood in no fear of the poor To the poet’s thoughts the wings for flight are That he gives his wealth in fee.7 silence In short, in words can I tell to you The wealth of the voice’s warmth lies in What were these desert men? silence”! Holders, Keepers, Saviours, Adorners THE HUMAN RACE Of what we call the world. If I should draw the sketch aright The sights of the garden may or may not be Limning the form in words, beautiful The vision I’d draw would be better far The narcissus, unable to act, forced to Than all your fancy paints. watching is! There is no standard by which to judge It does not appreciate the pleasure of Yours and your father’s worth. movement You utter words but they did deeds. The very nature of juniper devoid of longing They roamed: you stay at home. is! We have despoiled the inheritance Whatever is in the world is accustomed to That we from our fathers won. submission The heaven from the zenith has dashed it Every power of Man busy in pressing for his down Longing is! And cast it on the ground. This speck remains incessantly ambitious of What is this weeping at ordered things expansion That it is the affair of a day? Not a speck but perhaps the constricted Except the help of all‐certain law wilderness he is The world has no other plan. If he wills he can change the face of the But if those pearls of learning’s lore, garden Those books our fathers wrote This entity wise, clear‐sighted and powerful is We see in Europe made scholar’s joy, [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] The heart is rent with grief. Rich man8, behold the darkened day ADDRESS TO THE MUSLIM YOUTH

Have ever you pondered, O Muslim youth, On deep and serious things? 7 “In pure plain life…wealth in fee.” Sorley’s What is this world in which this you translation of these lines is absurd. The original Is only a broken star? lines mean: Those God‐fearing men held such You came of a stock that nourishes you pride even in poverty that the rich dared not give alms to the poor [without taking permission]. 188 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Kinan’s old man once knew, Muslims are tightly bound in chains of That the light of his eyes to Zuleikha’s eyes sectarianism Might bring the brightness of sight. Look at your freedom and at their bondage also look [Translated by H.T. Sorley] In the mosque look at disintegration of the THE EID CRESCENT priest’s love In the temple at the Brahman’s strong idol‐ O the pride of Shawwal! O the fasting worship also look person’s darling! Look at the sight of the Muslim ways in the Come! As Muslims were very anxiously infidels’ life waiting for you And at your Muslims’ tormenting other The message of Eid is written on your Muslims also look forehead Be the spectator of the shower of rocks of Your evening is the preface to the dawn of misfortunes pleasure At the frailty of the Muslims Ummah’s abodes You are the mirror of the history of Millat‐i‐ also look Baidah Yes, look at the advance flattery of the O crescent! We are your lovers since a very ‘honorable’ people long time And at the self‐respect of the formerly The banner under whose shade we wielded shameless people also look our swords Whom we got acquainted with the taste of Under whose shade we used the blood of our eloquence enemies At the haughty speech of that former The companionship of this very banner is speechless adversary look your destiny Listen to sounds of pleasurable orchestra in The Millat’s honor is by your ever‐increasing West’s palaces beauty And at the preparations for the mourning in Our nation is cherisher of friends, fidelity is Iran also look your way The imprudent Turk has torn the cloak of the This silvery shirt of yours is the propagator of Divine Khilafah love Look at Muslims’ simplicity at other’s Look at the earth’s habitation from your cunningness also look celestial apses! Look at everything, and remain quiet like a Look at the depth of our abode from your mirror eminence! In today tumult remain occupied in evening’s Look at the caravans and also look at their fast music! speed At the destitute traveler’s estrangement with THE CANDLE AND THE POET destination also look (February 1912) On sighting you we used to give charity lavishly THE POET O empty cup! Today at our indigence also Last night I said to the candle of my desolate look house “Your hair gets combed by the wings of the 8 “Rich man…” It should be read “O Ghani!” moth (Sorley has mistakenly translated the name of the In the world I am like the lamp of the Kashmiri poet whose Persian couplet is quoted wilderness’ tulip here. Ghani Kashmiri himself appears among the heroes in A Message of the East and Javidnama. The Call of the Marching Bell 189

I am neither in an assembly’s lot, nor in a That Qais be produced in your assembly is house’ fortune not possible Since a long time I am also burning my breath Your wilderness is straitened, without Lailah like you is the litter of yours Though I am circling the flame no moth has O brilliant pearl! O the one reared in the hit its wing wave’s lap Many an effulgence is crammed in my life of Unacquainted with the taste of storms is the unfulfilled desires ocean of yours Not a single loving heart rises in this Why are you singing now? your garden is in assembly disorder! From where have you acquired this world‐ Your singing is out of place, your music is out illuminating fire? of season You have infused the love of Kalim in the Those who were anxious for the Spectacle poor insect”! have departed Your coming now with general Sighting’s The Candle promise matters little “The blow of breath which gives me the Those old ardent lovers of wine are gone from message of death the assembly By the same blow of breath your lip is O cub‐bearer! Your coming now in assembly melodious with strong wine in the cup matters little I am alight because burning is built into my Ah! When the rose garden’s organization has nature already got disorganized You are alight so that the moths may have the If the flower got the message of spring breeze love of yours matters little I am weeping because a flood gushes forth The lover’s condition was worth seeing at the from my heart night’s end You shed dew so that garden’s assembly may The Beloved’s arrival early in the morning sing praises yours matters little My morning is adorned with the roses from Extinguished is the flame which was every my night’s toil moth’s objective Your tomorrow is unaware of the today of If some pursuer of perfect love came now it yours matters little Though you are lightened your are devoid of The flowers do not care, you may or may not the inner heat sing Like the lamp of the wilderness’ tulip is the The caravan is callous, the bell may or may flame of yours not ring Just think if cup‐bearer’s title is appropriate If devoid of love’s warmth you remained for you even as assembly’s candle Assembly is thirsty and the wine‐measure is Your moths also unacquainted with this taste empty of yours remained Your ways are different, the law of the Millat If you could string them together on the is different thread of Love Your mirror has been disgraced by the ugly Then why did the beads of your rosary appearance of yours scattered remain? With the Ka’bah by your side you are Gone is the courageous Love, gone is the temple’s lover sublime thinking How rebellious is the irresponsible love of In your assembly neither the insane nor the yours sages remain 190 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Gone is that burning of Love, gone is that However, the grief’s night gives the message heart’s pathos of ‘Eid’s morning What good it is if the moths round the candle In the darkness of the night the ray of hope did remain? has appeared Very well, the cup‐bearer you may be, whom Glad tidings, O cup‐bearer of the tavern of will you serve wine Hijaz Now neither those wine‐drinkers nor those After ages your rinds have regained taverns did remain consciousness Today a broken decanter is crying for the cup‐ Wealth of self‐respect was the price for other’s bearer wine Whose goblets in circulation till yesterday did Now your shop is again full of calls for the remain carousal Today are silent those Love‐cherishing About to break is the magic of India’s white expanses faced masters Where Layla and her lovers dancing did Again the Sulaima’s eye is the harbinger of remain clamor’s message How disappointing! The caravan’s wealth is There is clamor again for cup‐bearer to bring gone the home‐made wine The feeling of loss from caravan’s heart is As the heart’s uproars have been silenced by gone the West’s wine With whose activities the wilderness was once Sing because this is not the time for silence flourishing The dawn’s sky is shouldering the sun like Their cities are wiped out, habitations decanter desolate have became Burn in sympathy with others and also make The prayers which established the grandeur others burn of Tawhid Listen if you can, a bright Hadith has been Those prayers offerings to Brahman in India conveyed to you have become Ancestors have said that poetry is a part of In this world ever‐lasting comfort on laws’ prophethood observance depends Yes, convey to the Millat the glad tidings of To the ocean wave freedoms prelude to the Messenger Angel! lamentation have become Awaken the eye with the promise of the The Manifestation Itself was longing for Beloved’s Sight whose eyes Bring the heart to life with the warmth of Those eyes despaired of Aiman’s light have speech’s skill become Your love for indulgence became a robber of Thousands of nightingales were flying about courage in the rose‐garden You were an ocean in wilderness, in garden a What happened to them that they confined to brook you became the nests have become? When you stood firm in your purity, you had In the celestial expanse whose lightning the nation also power was panoramic Caravan of fragrance after leaving the rose Those lightning’s satiated with the barn’s scattered became sides have become The life of the drop has lessons of the secrets Why should the blood letting eye ingratiated of life to the rose garden be? Sometimes pearl, sometimes dew, sometimes With continuous tears the eyes fully satiated tear it became with embers have become Obtain it from somewhere it is a great wealth The Call of the Marching Bell 191

What good is life if the heart unaware of Ah! Whose search keeps you aimlessly bosom became wandering Your honor depended upon the organization The path, the traveler, the guide, as well as of the Millat the destination you are When this organization departed, disgraced Why is your heart trembling with the fear of world wide you became the storm? The individual is firm by nation’s coherence, The sailor, the ocean, the boat, as well as the otherwise nothing sea‐shore you are The wave is only in the ocean, and outside it Come and look some time in the lane of the is nothing torn collars Keep the love concealed in your heart’s veil Qais, Lailah, the wilderness as well as the still litter on the camel you are That is do not disgrace your wine like the Woe foolishness! You are in need of the cup‐ decanter bearer Pitch your tent in the Valley of Sinai like The wine, the decanter, the cup‐bearer, as Kalim 1 well as the assembly you are Make the Truth’s flame destroyer of home’s Becoming a flame burn down the rubbish of comfort Godlessness The candle should also know the result of Why are you afraid of the falsehood? The atrocities destroyer of falsehood also you are Make the moth’s ashes restorer of the O imprudent one! You are the essence of morning time’s mirror If you are self‐respecting be not obliged to the The ultimate message of God in the world cup‐bearer you are! In the ocean’s midst turn the goblet up side O imprudent one! Be aware of your own down like the bubble reality as No joy remains in the old mountains and Though you are only a drop your reality is wilderness also like the boundless ocean Your love is new, you should create new Why are you imprisoned in the spell of poor wilderness resources If the destiny has destroyed you completely Just look, concealed in you is also the storm’s From downfall make a new rod like the seed power! Yes! Build your nest again on the same old Your breast is custodian of the love’s message branch of the one Make the rose garden’s residents martyrs of Who is Apparent as well as Hidden in the the song of intoxication universe’ system In this garden be the nightingale’s follower or What conquers the whole world without rose’ pupil sword and gun Either be all complaint or do not produce any If you understand the material is also in your music mettle Why are you silent in the garden like dew’s O indolent One! Do you remember that retreat covenant also? Open your lips, you are the music of the On which Mount Faran till now is a silent world’s harp! witness Become somewhat acquainted with your own O ignorant one! Only you became contented reality O farmer! with some flower buds The grain, the cultivation, the rain, as well as Otherwise in the rose‐garden there is also the produce you are cure for the receiver’s small capacity! 192 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The heart’s state is produced in the speech’s MUSLIM curtain In decanter’s veil the wine is apparent as well (June 1912) as veiled Every breath you draw, Iqbal, My fiery music has burnt me down Is laden with sighs; And this is the very means of my life! Your smouldering breast is filled with lament. Look into my breast for the secret of this fiery The lute of your heart has no song of hope: music Your litter, we believe, has not his Layla. Look into heart’s mirror for destiny’s Your ears seek the sound of a song manifestation! That has been sung and is no more, The sky will shine mirror‐like with the Your heart is unconcerned morning’s light With the commotion of the present. And the night’s darkness will be speeding Your fellow‐singers of the garden away! Would not hear the tale of the rose: The spring breeze will be so melody inspiring The assembly would not listen That flower‐bed’s silent fragrance will become To your message of old. melodious! Quiet, O bell of the numb‐footed caravan! The garden’s afflicted ones will unite with Your voice causes much despair—quiet! other afflicted ones It cannot be brought back to life, The zephyr will become companion of the The assembly of olden times; rose’ assembly! Yesternight cannot be lit up with candles. My gentle spray of dew will produce warmth I am a Muslim, my friend and music A bearer of the message of tawhid Every flower‐bud of this garden will become And a witness since eternity to that truth! appreciative of pathos! To tawhid is due the warm beat You will see the result of the glory of the Of the pulse of the existents; river’s flow From it, too, the boldness The restless wave itself will become its ankle’s In the Muslim’s thought. chain! It is for the sake of this truth The hearts will again recall the message of That God created the world, prostrations And to guard that truth He created me. The foreheads will become acquainted with It was I who abolished the Harem’s dust The worship of falsehood— The hunter’s wailing will give material for the I, indeed, who proved to be birds’ singing The protector of the laws of existence. Colored with flower‐picker’s blood the My existence is a robe flower‐bud will became That covers the nakedness of the world: Whatever the eye is seeing cannot be To destroy me would be described by the lips A disgrace to mankind! I am lost in amazement as to what the world Of the fate of the world, will become! The Muslim is the shining star— The night will eventually disappear by sun’s One whose brilliance puts to shame appearance! The spell cast by dawn. This garden will be filled with the Light of The secrets of life are exposed to my view: Tawhid! I cannot be said to have despaired [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Of waging the struggle of life. How can I be frightened The Call of the Marching Bell 193

By the transient scene of sorrow? But I have brought this chalice here to make I believe in the destiny of my Community! my sacrifice; Of the element of despair my life is free: The thing it holds you will not find in all your The heat of the battle Paradise. Gives notice of complete victory. See here, oh Lord, the honour of your people Yes, my eyes are fixed on the age gone by, brimming up! And to the assembly I tell The martyred blood of Tripoli, oh Lord, is in The same old story. this cup.’ To the dust of my being is elixir [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] The memory of the bygone age. My past is the exegesis of my future; THE HOSPITAL OF HIJAZ I keep in view that exciting age— A leader of the nation once said to Iqbal In the mirror of the past I see the future. “A hospital is about to open in Jeddah for [Translated by Mustansir Mir] Hijaz Every speck of your dust becomes restless BEFORE THE PROPHET’S THRONE As you hear from somebody the tale of Hijaz Sick of this world and all this world’s tumult Move your hand of Love towards your pocket I who had lived fettered to dawn and sunset, You are world famous as the lover of Hijaz Yet never fathomed the planet’s hoary laws, The hospital in the suburbs of Batha is needed Taking provisions for my way set out In the hands of ‘Isa the patient’s pulse is From earth, and angels led me where the needed” Prophet I said “Life lies in the veil of death Holds audience, and before the mercy‐seat. As the Truth lies veiled in metaphors What the Lover has obtained in the position ‘Nightingale of the gardens of Hijaz! each bud of death Is melting,’ said those Lips, ‘in your song’s Khizr could not obtain in the wine of eternal passion‐flood; life Your heart forever steeped in the wine of Sir, convey this message of life to others ecstasy, I am searching for death in the land of Hijaz Your reeling feet nobler than any suppliant Why have you brought the message of cure? knee. What concern do Lovers have with the But since, taught by these Seraphim to mount Masiha.” so high, You have soared up from nether realms [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] towards the sky HE NSWER TO THE OMPLAINT And like a scent comes here from the orchards T A C of the earth— When passion streaming from the heart What do you bring for us, what is your Turns human lips to lyres, offering worth?’ Some magic wings man’s music then, ‘Master! there is no quiet in that land of time His song with soul inspires; and space, Man’s words are sacred then, they soar, Where the existence that we crave hides and The ears of heaven they seek, still hides its face; From dust those mortal accents rise, Though all creation’s flowerbeds teem with Immortals hear them speak; tulip and red rose, So wild and wayward was my Love, The flower whose perfume is true love—that Such tumult raised its sighs, flower no garden knows. Before its daring swiftly fell 194 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The ramparts of the skies. A song of eulogy; A bridge of converse thou hast formed The skies exclaimed in wonderment, ‘Twixt mortal man and Me! “Some one is hiding here,” The wheeling Planets paused to say, Behold, my hands arc full of gifts, “Seek on the highest sphere.” But who comes seeking here? The silver Moon said, “You are wrong, And how shall I the right road shew Some mortal it must be,” When there’s no traveller? The Milky Way too joined converse, My loving care is there for all, “Here in our midst is he.’’ If deserved but by few! Rizwan alone, my plaintive voice Not this the clay from which I can Began to recognise, An Adam’s shape renew! He knew me for a human who On him who merits well I set Had lost his Paradise. The brightest diadem, And those who truly questing come, And even the Angels could not tell A new world waits for them. What was that voice so strange, Whose secret seemed to lie beyond Apostate hearts and palsied hands Celestial wisdom’s range. Your earthly lives debase, They said, “Can Man now roving come You all, to your great Prophet, are And reach these regions high? Bringers of deep disgrace; That tiny speck of mortal clay, Those idol‐breakers all have gone, Has it now learnt to fly? You idolaters are, How little do these beings of earth Abraham was the father, you The laws of conduct know; His sons, are but Azar; How coarse and insolent they are, Now stranger bands carousal hold, These men who live below. Strange are both cup and wine, A strange new Kaʹba you have reared, So great their insolence indeed, Strange idols oh its shrine! They dare even God upbraid! Is this the Man to whom their bow The tulip of the wilds once reigned The Angels once had made? The queen of blossom‐time: Of Quality and Quantity In this once lay the quintessence He knows the secrets, true— Of loveliness sublime. The ways of humbleness as well Once every true‐born Mussalman If he a little knew! By Allah set his store, That they alone are blest with speech This fickle‐hearted courtesan How proud these humans be, Even you did once adore! Yet, ignorant, they lack the art Go, seek some constant mistress now, To use it gracefully.” To her a new bond sign, Muhammad’s universal creed Then spake a Voice Compassionate: To narrow bounds confine! “Thy tale enkindles pain, Thy cup is brimming full with tears To pray to me at break of day Which thou couldst not contain You now an ordeal deem, Even High Heaven itself is moved Your morning slumber sweeter far— By these impassioned cries; Yet you would faithful seem! How wild the heart which taught thy lips The hardships of the fast oppress Such savage melodies! Your natures—now grown free; Its grace yet makes this song of thine Such are your ways and you still would The Call of the Marching Bell 195

Protest your love for me! And one your Kaʹba, One your God, Unto a nation faith is life, And one your great Quran; You lost your faith and fell, Yet, still, divided each from each, When gravitation fails, must cease Lives every Mussalman. Concourse celestial. You split yourselves in countless sects, In classes high and low; You love your homes the least among Think you the world its gifts will still The nations of the earth, On such as you bestow? You are the most incompetent In knowledge and in worth; Who now forgetfully neglect You are a barn where lightning stays, My Rasool’s Law sublime? Where ruin idle lies, And whose lives write them clearly down Ancestral coffins long entombed As servers of the time? Your only merchandise; To whom now other customs seem In turning graves to profit, you Far nobler than their own? Have proved yourselves adept; By whom your great forefathers’ ways Should idol‐trading offer gain Once followed, are forsworn? Of course you would accept. Your hearts are now of longing void, Your souls now know no zeal, Whose striving, from this world of mine, You heed no more that message great Its falsehoods did efface? Which Ahmad did reveal. Whose toil, from age‐old ignorance Set free the human race? If any fasting’s hardship bear, And whose the brows whose worship It is the poor, today; filled If worship’s echoes ring in mosques, My Kaʹba’s hallowed shrine? It is the poor who pray; Or whose the breasts which fondly held It is the humble and the poor My ‘glorious Book Divine’? Who still my name esteem, These were your great progenitors; Theirs is the word, theirs is the deed, You lack their brain and brawn; Yours the shame they redeem. You sit and wait in slothful ease The rich are drunk with wine of wealth, For every morrow’s dawn. Their God they hardly know, It is because the poor yet live And did you say, for Muslims I That wells of Faith still flow. Mere promises dispense? Unjust laments at least should show That judgment ripe is no more theirs Some spark of commonsense. Who play your preachers’ role, Eternal is the Law of God Nor kindling accents from their lips, And Justice is its name, Reveal the flaming soul. Should infidels like Muslims live Azan yet sounds, but never now The meed shall be the same. Like Bilal’s, soulfully; Not one among you seeks in truth Philosophy, convictionless, To come at bliss through me Now mourns its Ghazzali, Still the Light Sinai’s mount illumes— Untrod by praying feet, the mosques No Moses there to see. Lament their emptiness, For gone are those exemplars great Your nation’s weal, your nation’s woe, Of Arab godliness In common you all share,

Your Prophet and your creed the same, ’Tis said: “ The Muslims quit this world, The same Truth you declare; Their days are on the wane,”— 196 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The Muslims died out long ago; The paths of Al‐Quran. Such a lament is vain. You roll the eye of mutual wrath, From Christians you have learnt your Their eye was ever kind; style, You err, for errors look, while they Your culture from Hindus; Were generously blind. How can a race as Muslims pass Aspiring for the Pleiades, Who shame even the Jews? How simple it all seems! You are known as Syed, and Mughal, But let there first be hearts like theirs, You call yourselves Pathan; To justify such dreams. But can you truly claim as well They reigned upon the Chinese throne, The name of Mussalman? They wore the Persian crown: The Muslim was sincere of speech, Where is that honour that they knew— Of fear his voice was free; Words are your whole renown. Just, staunch, he scorned the slightest breath Of partiality. They fought for honour, self‐respect, In nature, like a tree, kept fresh Yours the self‐slayer’s knife, By modesty most rare, You shun the ties of brotherhood Yet braver than the bravest he, They cherished more than life. Intrepid past compare. You can but weave the web of words, Like wine, upon the drinker’s lips, They did their deeds of might: His joy, in losing, lay; You pine after a bud: they basked As the cup pours its liquor out, In gardens flower‐bright. He poured his ‘self’ away. The world remembers still the tales Which hymn their bravery, What the knife is to cankerous growths, And in their storied book of life To all untruth was he, Shines their sincerity. His actions, in life’s mirror shone Like light, vibratingly. Upon your nation’s sky you rose If he was confident of aught, Like stars of brilliant hue, It was his right arm’s might, The lure of India’s idols made He feared but God, while thoughts of Even Brahmans out of you; death Drawn by the wander‐lust, you went Your craven souls affright. A‐roving ‘from your nests: When sons, lacking their fathers’ worth, Slothful in good, your youth next learnt Are neither skilled nor sage, To doubt their faith’s behests; With what deserving can they claim ‘Enlightenment’ ensnared you all, Their fathers’ heritage? And all your ‘fetters’ fell, The land of Kaʹba you forsook, The love of ease, like fumes of wine In idol‐land to dwell! Makes sots of you today, How dare you pass as Mussalmans? If longing Qais roams no more, That is not Islam’s way? But seeks the town again, Nor Usman’s treasure‐chest you own, Leaving the lonely desert wastes Nor Ali’s empty bowl, To share tile life 0f men, With spirits of such great forbears, Qais is mad: what if he dwells What kinship has your soul? In town or wilderness? The honoured of their times, they lived, Yet from him Layla must not veil For theirs was true iman, Her face in bashfulness! You live disgraced, as having left Complain ye not of heart unkind The Call of the Marching Bell 197

Nor speak of tyranny! Thou holdest the starting bells9 When Love no bondage knows, then why Nought else is needed, if thy will Should Beauty not be free? Thy onward march impels. Thou candle‐tree! thy wick‐like root, Each stack and barn it sets on fire, Its top with flame illumes, This lightning‐like New Age, Nor bowling wild nor garden gay Thy thought is fire, its very breath Escapes its flaming rage; All future care consumes. This new fire feeds on fuel old,— And thou shalt suffer no surcease The nations of the past, Should Iran’s star decline, And they too burn to whom was sent ‘Tis not the vessel which decides God’s Messenger, the last. The potency of wine; But if the faith of Abraham ‘Tis proved to all the world, from tales There, once again, is born, Of Tartar conquerors, Where leaps this flame, flowers will bloom, The Kaʹba brave defenders found And laugh its blaze to scorn. In temple‐worshippers. In thee relies the bark of God, Yet, let the gardener not be sad Adrift beyond the bar, To see the garden’s plight, The new‐born age is dark as night, For soon its branches will be gay And thou its dim pole‐star. With buds, like stars of light; The withered leaves and weeds will pass, The Bulgars march! the fiend of war And all its sweepings old; In fearful fury breathes; For there, again, will martyr‐blood The message comes: “Sleepers, awake! In roses red unfold. The Balkan cauldron seethes.” But look! a hint of russet hue, Thou deemest this a cause of grief, Brightening the eastern skies, Thy heart is mortified; The glow on yon horizon’s brow, But nay, thy pride, thy sacrifice, Heralds a new sunrise. Thus, once again, are tried. Beneath thy foes if chargers neigh? In Life’s old garden nations lived Why tremblest thou in fright? Who all its fruits enjoyed, For never, never, shall their breath While others longed in vain, while some Extinguish Heaven’s light. The winter blasts destroyed; Its trees are legion; some decay, Not yet have other nations seen While others flush with bloom, What thou art truly worth, And thousands still their birth await, The realm of Being has need of thee Hid in the garden’s womb; For perfecting this earth. A symbol of luxuriance, If aught yet keeps world alive, The Tree of Islam reigns, ‘Tis thine impetuous zeal, Its fruits achieved with centuries And thou shalt rise its ruling star, Of garden‐tending pains. And thou shalt shape its weal. This is no time for idle rest, Thy robe is free from dust of home, Much yet remains undone; Not thine such narrow ties, The lamp of tawhid needs thy touch That Yousuf thou, who Canaan sweet, To make it shame the sun! In every Egypt lies;

The qafila can ne’er disperse 9 ‘Starting bells…’ Or the ‘marching bells’—The expression in Urdu is the same as the title of the anthology. 198 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Thou art like fragrance in the bud, It swims perpetually! Diffuse thyself: be free. Thy shield be wisdom, be thy sword Perfume the garden breeze, and fill The flaming Love Divine, The earth with scent of thee. My fond dervish! dost thou not know From dusty speck, do thou increase That all the world is thine? To trackless desert‐main. All else but God is at thy feet, From a faint breeze, a tempest grow, If sounds thy Takbeer great; Become a hurricane! If thou a Muslim truly art, Raise thou, through Love, all humble Thy effort is thy fate. To greatness and to fame; To my Muhammad be but true, Enlighten thou the groping world And thou hast conquered me; With dear Muhammad’s Name. The world is nought: thou shalt command If this fair flower blossom not, My Pen of Destiny. The bulbul will not sing, [Translated by Altaf Husain] Nor rose‐buds make the garden smile Welcoming in the spring; THE CUP‐BEARER If he is not the saki, then Everyone knows how to throw down people Nor jar nor wine will be, with intoxicants Nor in this world will tawhid shine, The fun is to convert the intoxicated one to Nor thy heart beat in thee; sanity, O cup‐bearer Yonder ethereal skyey tent, Those who were the old wine‐drinkers are This great name still sustains, gradually departing And dancing to its music, flows Bring the water of immortality from The blood in Life’s own veins. somewhere, O cup‐bearer ’Tis in the forests and the hills, Your whole night has passed in tumult and And on the tranquil plains, clamor On the seas, in the arms of waves, The dawn is close remember God, O cup‐ In roar of hurricanes; bearer! A music heard in China’s towns, Morocco’s desert‐song, EDUCATION AND ITS CONSEQUENCES And hid within each Muslim’s heart (Tadmin Bar Shi’r‐i‐Mullah ‘Arshi ‐ Based on a It makes his faith grow strong. verse of Mullah ‘Arshi) Let all the peoples of the world See till the end of time, Though we also are happy with the progress How I have made this glorious name of the young Beyond all thought sublime! But some complaint from the happy lips also comes with it That pupil of the eye of Earth, We had thought education would bring Soil only dark men tread, economic freedom That region where have always been We did not know that atheism would also Your martyrs born and bred, come with it That land upon the hot sun’s lap, Though Shirin did honor Parviz with her That land of al‐hilal, presence Which lovers fondly love to call But she brought the ax of Farhad also with her The land of their Bilal,‐‐ Let us take the seed afresh in our hand and Is all a‐quiver with this Name, use it anew Like trembling mercury, Like pupils dark, in pools of light, The Call of the Marching Bell 199

We are ashamed to reap what would come Just listen to the message of the ecstatic out from whatever we sowed stroller Only he is living who unconcerned with LOSENESS TO INGS C K resting is The distinction between the ruler and the In the valleys the cloud’s elegant daughter is ruled cannot disappear roaming The beggar cannot have the audacity of being Exhibiting her love for the greenery of the equal to the king meadow is In the world adoration of the master is the Stealing away the cup of wine from climax of devotion mountain’s tavern “Seek the pleasure of the master and have the Passing throughout ups and downs suckling beautiful tunic” the fields is But if you aim to have the good pleasure of If the affectionate poet also exhibits the truth the ruler Life’s cultivation greens up from his bountiful You will have the title of self‐seeker and anti‐ ways national Khalil’s glory is evident from his verse The old way has thousands of difficulties When his nation exhibits the Azar’s ways In the new principle the lap is free of worries For earth’s inhabitants is the recipe of eternal The real joy comes by passing one’s life like life this The literature which is nurtured in sincere “Thousand words in the mouth and have ways silent lips” If the book of literature’s wine in the world’s This principle alone is the mainstay of garden does not exist peaceful existence The flower, the bud, the verdure, even the “The recluse beggar you are, O Hafiz make no garden will not exist clamor” THE GOOD NEWS OF THE DAWN But “If you are inclined to clamor let us begin “Grasp holy wine, then drink it to the harp’s (1912) tune” When the dawn full of action arrives from the Join the assemblies of the rich, the minister east and the king The silence marches off from the stage of life Smash to pieces conscience’ goblet with The quietude of nature’s congregation ends at greed’s stone last However, listen to the message of the Saint of Everything presents evidence of its life at last Shiraz also The birds warble on getting the message of That this is the secret of the conscience seller’s life closet In the garden flowers also put on the robe of “Light of effulgence is the king’s brilliant life opinion O sleeping Muslim get up! You also engaged If you want his closeness try to have clean in action be intention” Look, the horizon has brightened up, you also THE POET busy in urgent tasks be In the universe’s expanse a traveler like the The melodious brook is coming down from sun be the mountain So that the sky not producing these spots of After drinking red wine from the tavern’s clouds be spring 200 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Pulling the dagger of sun’s ray get busy again I am a nightingale making my lament, in the fight I am from a garden which has been ravaged. Again teacher of escape’s rules to falsehood’s I wish that my prayer would have effect— darkness be Give to a beggar, bounteous Lord! You are head to foot Light, manifestation [Translated by Mustansir Mir] makes you happy And after being manifest spreading out is IN RESPONSE TO THE REQUEST FOR incumbent on you WRITING A POEM ON ʹEID Yes! On being manifest become lightning to In the Shalamar Garden a yellowed leaf was the bat’s eye saying O hidden mystery of the heart of universe “Gone is that spring of which the confidante I manifest be! am [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] The garden’s visitors should not trample me down PRAYER The memory of the branch of their own nest I Lord, fill the Muslim’s heart am” With a desire so fervent This tiny little leaf made the heart restless That it will set his heart aflame One coming into the garden complete And stir his soul. mourner of spring I am Light up again every speck of dust In the autumn I am crying in remembrance of In the Valley of Faran. the spring Make us long again for beautiful sights, How can I get the happiness of Eid as grief‐ And create in us the urge to make demands. stricken I am Give piercing vision Devastated have become the olden days’ To those deprived of sight, taverns And show to others what I have seen. A memorial of the olden days’ wine drinkers I Lead the stray gazelle back to the Sanctuary. am It has grown used to the city ‐ It gives the message of pleasure and Give it back the vastness of the desert. happiness to us! Stir up again the ruins of the heart The crescent of Eid is making fun of us! With a commotion like judgment Day. [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Let this empty litter once again seat A sweetheart ‐ a Layla! FATIMA BINT ‘ABDULLAH In the darkness of this age give Fatima, you are the pride To every troubled heart Of the Community ‐God bless it! Scars of love that would shame the moon. Your dust is holy, every particle of it. Let the goals be as high as the Pleiades. You, houri of the desert, Give us the calm and poise of the shore, Were fated to win such merit! But the freedom of the sea. To give the soldiers of Islam water to drink Let love be selfless Was to be your good fortune. And truth fearless; A jihad in the way of God, Let our breasts be flooded with light‐ Waged without sword or shield! Make our hearts clear as crystal. What courage the love of martyrdom gives! Enable us to foresee the calamity that is O that in our autumn‐stricken garden coming; There were flower‐buds like this! In the midst of today’s upheaval O that a spark like this, dear Lord, Give us a vision of tomorrow. Could be found in our ashes! The Call of the Marching Bell 201

In our desert many deer still hide! The songbirds are captive—what an outrage! And in the spent clouds Thorns grow in the rose’s shadow‐what an Many flashes of lightning still lie dormant! outrage! Fatima, though our grieving eyes The eyes of the ailing narcissus are never dry. Weep tears like dew over you, The heart longs to see, but the eyes are blind. Our dirge is also a celebration song. The ardour of its complaint has burnt the tall How thrilling is the dance of your dust, tree’s heart; Every atom of which is charged with life. The tree is a captive, and is free only in name. There is stirring in your quiet grave: The stars ‐ in the language of men ‐ are sparks Within it a new nation is being reared. struck by human sighs; Though I know nothing of the range of its In the language of gardens, I am the sky’s ambition, tears. I see them spring to life from this tomb. It is foolish how the moon circles the earth— New stars are appearing in the sky above, It believes that the earth will heal the scar in Stars whose rolling waves of light its heart! Have not been seen by the eyes of man; The world is a cottage built in the air— Stars just risen out of the dark dungeon of A picture of lament drawn on the canvas of time, space.’ Stars whose light is not hostage to day and [Translated by Mustansir Mir] night; Stars whose radiance is both old and new, THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE And partakes of the splendour When the struggle between Truth and Of the star of your destiny too. falsehood began in Europe [Translated by Mustansir Mir] The Truth was compelled on wielding the dagger THE DEW AND THE STARS The dust of the Cross circled round the One night the stars said to the dew: Crescent ‘Every morning you get to see new sights. Shakree became besieged in the fortress of Who knows how many worlds you have seen! Adrianople You have seen the traces left behind by those Provisions of Muslim soldiers became Who once flourished but then perished. exhausted Venus has heard this news from an angel: The face of hope from the eye became Far, far from the heavens is the city of men. concealed Tell us the story of that beautiful realm At last by the Turkish army commander’s Which is serenaded by the moon. orders ‘Do not ask me, stars, about the garden of the “Martial Law” was proclaimed the law of the world; city It is no garden, but a town filled with sighs Everything was transferred to the army and screams. camp’s store The west wind arrives there, only to leave The eagle became beggar for the grain of the again; sparrow The poor bud blooms, but only to Wither. But when the Faqih of the city heard this How do I describe to you news The bud that brightens the garden— He exploded with anger like the thunderbolt It is a tiny flame with no heat! of Tur The rose cannot hear the nightingale’s cry, “Dhimmi’s” wealth is forbidden for the Or pick up pearls from the fold of my hem. Muslim army” 202 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

This edict was published throughout the “You should have no complaint against your whole city fate” The army would not touch the Jews’ and My sleeping in the couch was a mere show, Christians’ wealth an affectation The Muslim became compelled by the Because stupor is foreign to the dignity of Command of God! fighters It was my intention that some daughter of HULAM ADIR UHILAH G Q R Taimur How cruel, tyrant and vindictive the Ruhilah Considering me unconscious might kill me was with my own dagger, He blinded the Mughal Emperor with the But at last this secret has dawned to the whole point of his dagger world The tyrant ordered members of the royal Concern for honor has departed from household to dance Taimur’s household.” This tyranny was no less than the Judgment A DIALOGUE Day’s signal For the delicate ladies of the royal household A domesticated bird once said to the wild it was bird Utterly impossible to comply with this “If you have wings, do not I also have wings? shameless order If you are air‐borne, I am also air‐borne Ah! The merciless one made them the means If you are free I am also not a prisoner of pleasure All winged creatures are characterized by Whose beauty had been veiled from sun’s, flight moon’s and stars Why then are wild birds inclined to be The feeble hearts were throbbing, the feet arrogant!” were forced to move As the wild bird’s self‐respect became A river of blood was flowing from the wet wounded eyes of the princesses He spoke thus on hearing this heart‐rending For some time his eyes remained thus talk absorbed in seeing “There is no doubt you also are free for flight In confusion he freed his head from the load But the limit of your flight is only up to the of Mighfar wall He untied the deadly, fire‐spitting sword Are you unacquainted with the courage of the from the waist wild birds? Whose sharpness was a source of You live on the dust, they are concerned with luminescence to the stars the sky He put the dagger in front, and lied down in You are a household bird, you seek food in some thought the dust Sleep was demanding rest from the red eyes We strike the star with our beak in search of so to say the grain” The water of sleep extinguished the embers of AND OU his eyes I Y The tyrant’s sight became ashamed of the My eye is unacquainted with the taste for the painful spectacle! Sight He got up and started saying this to Taimur’s Your eye is the knower of Nature’s secret, so household what? The Call of the Marching Bell 203

My tongue is indebted to the complaint “You must be subservient to whom you had against time become rebellious The universe’s rotation depends on your will, From wherever you departed like flame, turn so what? back to it” The sky kept me wandering in garden like the HIBLI AND ALI breeze’s current S H The sky has bestowed the abode over you, so One day Iqbal said to the Muslim what? “Your existence is unique in the universe The wealth of your life is free of desire for The tunes of your old songs are the basis of gain new knowledge In my heart is the anxiety of loss, so what? Civilization is the dust of your old caravans Your planes are flying about in the air Even the zephyr’s current is like stone to it My ship is devoid of the sail, so what? Very delicate is the mirror of Man’s honor I became strong, so what, I became weak, so The men of action by discovering the causes what? of phenomena This happened, so what, that happened, so Find the cure for the azure‐colored sky’s what? cruelties Tranquillity does not exist to any extent in Ask them who are the old secret keepers of this rose‐garden! the garden If you became spring, and I became autumn, How the autumn became engaged in fight so what? with your garden” The Muslim became restless with my THE POEM BASED ON A VERSE OF ABU conversation TALIB KALIM The sad sigh became betrayer of the inner Your regard for the ways of the Lord of sorrow Yathrib is strange He said “Just look at the autumn’s condition Your life is exhibiting that you are not a The leaves of the tree of life have become pale Muslim Those garden’s secret keepers became silent What made heavens contained in your ring’s Whose tune of pathos was the means of circle mellowness O Sulaiman! that jewel is lost by your The garden’s inhabitants were still mourning negligence! Shibli That mark of prostration which used to shine When Hali also became a traveler towards like a star Paradise Your forehead has now become unacquainted “Still he is a fool who is asking the gardener with that mark! What did nightingale say, what did rose hear, Just look at your actions, do you envisage what did zephyr do?” That candor whose fearlessness was always EVOLUTION wonderful Your ancestors’ eye was the thunderbolt for Struggle has continued from eternity till the falsehood present day The same falsehood is now lodged in your Between the lamp of Mustafa and the spark of breast Bu Lahab O negligent one come and inhabit in your Life is flame‐tempered, high‐minded and abode again fervent The discerning Kalim is singing on the It’s nature is resolving difficulty, bearing spiritual Tur cruelty 204 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

From the evening’s quietude till the No man more loyal, he brought with him morning’s song Everything with value in the eyes of the There are many a stage of the midnight world: wailing! Slaves, money, goods and chattels. Struggle exists between the heat and cold, He brought his horses, their hooves shining throbbing and shaping like the moon, From the dark dust to the polished glass of And his camels, mules and asses. Halab The Prophet said, ‘It is necessary to think of The phenomena of making and breaking, one’s family too!’ squeezing, heating and distilling That man, who knew the secrets of love, said, Exist between the drop of spring rain and the ‘You are the one from whom the moon and heat of the grape wine! stars Nations live by this continuous struggle alone Receive the brightness of their eyes; This alone is the secret of the Arab nation’s And you are the one for whose sake struggle The universe was brought into being: “The tavern‐keepers making wine from the The lamp is enough for the moth, grape The flower is enough for the nightingale— Break the stars and construct the sun” For Abu Bakr the Prophet of God is enough’. [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] [Translated by Mustansir Mir]

ABU BAKR THE TRUTHFUL THE PRESENT CIVILIZATION One day the Holy Prophet said to his (Based on a Verse of Faizi) Companions, Extremely excessive is the heat of current ‘The rich among you should give in the way civilization’s wine of God’. The clay body of the Muslim has exploded On hearing that command, an overjoyed into flames ‘Umar stood up; It made the speck into fire‐fly by giving it That day he had thousands of dirhams. borrowed light Today, for sure, he said in his heart, Just look at what the trickery of the splendid My horse will take the lead from Abu Bakr’s. sun is So he brought his wealth to the Trustworthy The nature of the young generation has found Prophet— new ways Sacrifice is needed to start a project off. This beauty, this alertness, this freedom, this ‘Umar’, asked the Prophet, the Sovereign of fearlessness the world, Such a change has come about in planning ‘A passion for truth is the sole comfort of your and thought heart. Bursting of the garden’s flower‐buds in Love Did you keep anything back for your is considered trivial family?— The newly flying birds have lost their nests For a Muslim must honour the duty he bears but to his relations.’ A pretty sight has been shown by magician’s ‘Half’, he said, ‘belongs to wife and children, cunningness The rest I offer to the Community of Light.’ The new life brought with it ever changing In the meantime that Companion of the pleasures Prophet arrived Rivalry, selling conscience, impatience, greed Who gives strength to the edifice of love and Muslim’s assembly is glittering with the new devotion. candle’s light The Call of the Marching Bell 205

But my old time wisdom is saying this to the But your picture is the messenger of eternal moths grieving— “O moth! You have derived this warmth from Alas! it cancels out my powerful wisdom. the assembly’s candle By drunken lamentation, the foundation of Burn in your own fire like me if you have the life is made firm; warmth of the heart. By the knowledge of pain, stony hearted [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] intelligence is put to shame. By the wave of the smoke of the sigh, my N EMORY OF Y ATE OTHER I M M L M mirror is bright; Every atom of creation is a prisoner of fate; My breast is filled from the watery treasury. Contrivance is the veil of constraint and I am amazed at the spell your portrait casts, helplessness. Which has changed the direction of the flight The sky is compelled; the sun and the moon of time. are compelled; It seems that it has stood past and present The fleet‐footed stars are compelled in their side by side; course. It has once more made me aware of the time The cup of the bud in the garden is destined of my childhood, to be smashed; When that helpless life was nurtured in your Verdure and flowers are also compelled to lap, grow in the garden. Whose tongue was not properly familiar with Be it the song of the nightingale or the silent words. voice of the innermost spirit, And now he is famous for the charm of his Everything is a captive of this world‐ speech; encompassing chain. His eyes, which shed jewels, are priceless pearls. When this secret of constraint is clear to the eye, The serious discourse of wisdom, the The flowing stream of tears grows dry in the awareness of old‐age, heart. The grandeur of worldly honours, the pride of The dance of pleasure and grief no longer youth— remains in the human breast; We come down from the pinnacles of life’s The song remains, but the joy of high and low towers does not. And in the company of our mother remain a Knowledge and wisdom are the highway‐ simple child. robbers of the goods of tears and sighs; We observe no formality, we laugh, we are The aware heart is a fragment of a diamond. free from care: Although in my garden, there is not the Once more we abide in this paradise which freshness of the dew we had lost. And my eye is not the possessor of the dark Now, who will wait for me, alas!, in my red tear, homeland? I know, alas! the secret of human tribulations; Who will be anxious when my letter does not The instrument of my nature is empty of the arrive? melody of complaint. I shall come to the dust of your grave, The tale of the changing colours of time is not bringing this lament: on my lips; Now who will remember me in midnight My heart is not amazed, not laughing, not prayers? weeping; 206 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Because you brought me up, I shared the fate Nothing but the capital of a tearful eye. of the stars; But the age of testing will also end; The house of my forefathers was accorded Behind the nine veils of the firmament even honour. now there are other ages. In the scroll of existence your life was a If in this garden the breasts of the tulip and golden page. the rose are torn, so what? Your life was from beginning to end a lesson If nightingales are forced to cry and lament, in faith and the world. so what? Throughout my life, your love was my The bushes, which keep the sigh of the servant, autumn imprisoned in their cage— And when I was able to serve you, you The wind of eternal spring will make them departed this world. green. That young man who in stature is like the If our vital spark sleeps in the trampled earth, lofty cypress and who was more blessed by so what? your service than I, If our pinch of dust travels in this transitory He stood shoulder to shoulder with me in the litter, so what? business of life; The finality of the fire of life is not a bed of He, a portrait of your love; he, my right arm. ashes. Now he mourns you like a helpless baby, It is not the pearl whose destiny is to be And weeps for you morning and evening, broken. knowing no self‐control. The seed, which you sowed in the field of our In the eye of existence, life is so beloved: life, In the nature of everything there is the desire As we share our grief—that love has become to preserve life. even stronger. If the trace of life could have been erased by the hands of death, Ah, this world, this house of mourning for The order of the universe would not have young and old; made it so common. To what spell of yesterday and tomorrow is If it is so cheap, then think that death is mankind captive! worthless, How hard life is! How easy is death! In the same way as sleeping does not stop one In the garden of existence, death is as cheap as living. the morning breeze. Alas, my ignorant one! The hidden secret of There are earthquakes, lightning, famines, death is quite different. tribulations— From the instability of its impression, All daughters of the mother of the days! something else is visible. Death comes to the poor man’s hovel; death The impression of the wind on the water is a comes to the rich man’s palace. vision of paradise; Death is present in deserts and towns, in Breaking the agitated wave, it creates bubbles. cities, in garden, in the wilderness. And then it hides them in the bosom of the Death even creates its tumults in the silent wave. sea, How cruelly it rubs out its own trace. And boats sink in the embrace of the wave. But if the wind could not create anew the There is no room for complaint, nor power of bubbles it hade made, speech; The wind would not be so careless as to What is life? A noose that squeezes the throat. smash them. In the caravan, there is nothing but the lament But what effect does this behaviour have of the bell; upon the actual form of creation? The Call of the Marching Bell 207

It is proof that the wind has the power to In the veil of sleep, it is a message of create. awakening. Could it be that the nature of existence will Those who are accustomed to flying have no not ever be a martyr to desire? fear of flying. Could it be that it will not seek to make a In this garden, death means nothing more better form? than the poising of wings. Ah! Restless quicksilver, stars that light in the People of the world say that the pain of death heavens! is incurable; These lively sparks, whose shining is indebted The wound of separation is healed by the to the darkness of the night. balm of time. Knowledge bows in humility to the length of But the heart which is filled by grief for the their life. death One hour of theirs is the life‐story of Is freed from the links of the chain of morning mankind. and evening. But then a man it is who casts his sight to the The lamentation of mourning is not stopped heavens, by the spell of time; And in his purpose he is purer than even the Time is no balm for the wound of the sword angels. of separation. Like a shining candle, he stands in the When a disaster suddenly befalls a man, assembly of nature, Tears continually flow from his eyes. And in the vastness of his nature the sky is There comes about a connection between the just a point. heart and lament and complaint; His lack of knowledge is anxious for truth. The blood of the heart flows in the tears His finger‐nail is the plectrum of the which fill the eyes. instrument of existence. Although man is bereft of the strength of Is this flame then less bright than the sparks patience, of the firmament? In his nature there is an undefinable sense. Is this sun cheaper than the stars? Man’s spirit does not know annihilation; It may disappear from sight, but is not The eye of the seed of the flower is awake obliterated. even under the soil. The apparel of existence is turned to ashes by How anxious it is to grow to maturity! the flames of grief; The flame of life which is hidden in this seed This fire is put out by the water of that is compelled to show itself, to increase itself pleasant feeling. in growth. Ah! The suppression of lamentation is not the It cannot be dispirited even in the coldness of silence of indifference. the grave. It is awareness that brings consolation, not Even pressed into the soil, it cannot lose its forgetfulness. passion. It becomes a flower and rises from its coffin, As soon as the morning appears in its As if it acquires the clothes of life from death. brightness from the veil of the east, It is the grave that binds together this The morning washes the strain of the night distracted power, from the garment of the skies. And casts its noose around the neck of the It clothes the fading tulip in a fiery cloak, firmament. And it stirs the silent birds to ecstatic song. Death is the name of the renewal of the taste The melody is freed from the prison of the for life. nightingale’s breast. 208 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The early morning breeze is full of a hundred What kind of restlessness your impatient life tunes. has! The sleepers of the garden of tulips, the flank Are you a small little lightning, which the sky of the mountain and the rivers are at last by Is nurturing to fall on the harvest of nations the side of life’s bride. Is this a flash, or your eternal nature, what is If this is the law of existence that every it? evening turns into morning, Is it a dance? wandering? seeking what is it?” Why should not the end of the night of man’s “A sea of tumults is asleep in my silent life tomb not be morning? My existence has been nurtured by the morning’s breeze The net of my swift imagination captures the My destiny keeps me constantly restless heavens; Taste for enlightenment keeps me busy in By it I have captured your memory. seeking My heart which knows pain is full of your I am not fire‐brand lightning, though by memory, nature fire I am As in the Kaʹba, the air if filled with prayers. Message of awakening from the world‐ That chain of duties, whose name is life— illuminating sun I am! Its places of manifestation are thousands of Becoming collyrium I shall enter the human unstable worlds. eye Every stage of existence has different ways Whatever night had hidden I shall show to and customs; the eye The world to come is also a coursing‐field. Among your ecstatics is there any seeker of There the tilled field of death produces no prudence also? crop; Among the sleeping people is anyone with The climate is appropriate for the seed of taste of awakening also?” action.

The light of nature is not the prisoner of the darkness of the body; ‘URFI The scope of human thought is not so narrow. Life was made brighter by your moonlight. The imagination of ‘Urfi has created a Your journey was also made better by the mansion morning star. Which has became the envy of Sina and Like the halls of the dawn, may your grave be Farabi radiant! On the subject of Love he wrote such music May your dusty sleeping chamber be filled By which red tears are still available to eyes with light! One day my heart made this complaint at his May the sky shed its dew upon your grave! grave May the freshly grown verdure watch over “Tunes of restlessness no longer come from your home! world’s assembly The disposition of the world’s people has [Translated by D.J. Matthews] changed so much That such condition of restlessness has gone THE SUN’S RAY from the world At the dawn when my eye was enjoying the The midnight wailing of the poet is offensive panorama to the ear I saw that a ray of the sun was wandering When assembly’s eye be unaware of pleasure about of sleeplessness I asked the ray, “O head to foot restlessness! The Call of the Marching Bell 209

How can somebody’s flame of lament remove It was not an assembly‐hall to be lit up by the darkness? lamp of truth; When the morning’s light is unwelcome for The rain of mercy fell, but the land was nightly worshipers” barren. Call came from grave “Reduce complaint Alas, for the shudra India is a house of sorrow, against world’s people This land is blind to the sufferings of man. ‘Strike the tune harder if the taste for music The Brahmin is still drunk with the wine of has become low pride, Sing the hudi faster if the camel’s litter has In the assembly‐halls of foreigners burns became heavy’ Gautama’s lamp. But, ages later, the house of idols was lit up N ESPONSE O A ETTER I R T L again– Even if I have greed I do not have the strength Azar’s house was lit up by Abraham! for exertion Again from the Punjab the call of Acquiring position is connected with the taste monotheism arose: for search A perfect man roused India from A thousand thanks to God that my nature is slumber. contentment [Translated by Mustansir Mir] A thousand thanks to God that my mind is not mischievous INFIDELITY AND ISLAM Cultivations of human hearts flourish with (Includes a Verse of Mir Razi Danish) my writings In the world I am creative like the ocean One day Iqbal questioned the Kaleem of Tur feeding cloud “ O You whose foot‐prints converted the Congratulations to you on these secrets of Valley of Sinai into a garden! politics The fire of Nimrod is still ablaze in the world As my finger nail by Love’s grace is breast‐ Why your Love’s old fire has been hidden excoriating from the eye”? Desire for audience with kings is a sign of The reply of Sinai’s Master was “If you are a lifelessness Muslim This secret has been exposed by Hafiz of Leaving the Invisible do not become the lover elegant poetry of the visible “If you desire that you elevated to Khidar be If you have taste for the visible you need the Hidden from Sikandar’s eye as immortality’s Faith of Khalil water be.” Otherwise ashes are the adornments of your life [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] If you are Lover of the Invisible do not care at NANAK all Set your lamp in the Valley of Faran and The nation could not care less about remain waiting Gautama’s message— The visible’s glory is temporary, the It did not know the price of its unique pearl! Invisibile’s Majesty is permanent Poor wretches! They never heard the voice of This Truth has the body‐and‐soul connection truth: with Love A tree does not know how sweet its fruit is. What if the flame of Namrud is alight in the What he revealed was the secret of existence, world But India was proud of its fancies; ‘The candle melts itself in the midst of the assembly 210 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

My light like the stone’s spark is better if Those who were invaluable once are not even concealed’” saleable now That bright flame of yours from which ILAL B darkness escaped A righteous Western writer has written Now is reduced to a spark, less bright than Who was highly respected among the stars literateur Cease to be the Invisible’s Lover, be the “Asia was the marshaling place of Sikandar of visible’s lover Rome Now influence of the visible God is His status was More elegant than even the sky triumphant over nations History attests that in combat with the In this garden success for your efforts is not Romans possible The claims of Porus and Dara were vain Your snare is worn out and the fast‐flying At this emperor with the myriad‐man army bird is clever The blue sky was looking with amazement In this age education is the cure for nations’ Today nobody knows him in Asia maladies Even the historian does not recognize him Education is like a lancet for the diseased But Bilal, that humble person with Negroid blood” origin By the leader’s suggestions love of education Whose nature had been brightened by the developed in me Prophethood’s Light Obeying the command of Khidar is The call whose custodian the breast of Bilal incumbent on the wanderer of the since eternity became wilderness Subservient to which call emperors as well as But the discerning eye should see my the indigent became! misfortune Which brings amity between the black and “Went to pull thorn from foot, the litter the red disappeared from the sight By which the poor and the rich are placed I was negligent for a moment it moved by a together hundered years” That heart‐melting song is fresh till the THE PRINCESS OF FLOWERS present age Which the old sky’s ear has been hearing for One day the dew in the garden was saying to centuries” the flower bud Iqbal! This general blessing is due to whose “I lived for a long time among the flower love? buds of Paradise The Roman has perished, the Negro is The condition of your garden is so elegant immortal! The Paradise’s sight is concealed in my bewildered eye HE USLIMS AND ODERN T M M I have heard that some princess is the ruler of EDUCATION this garden (Includes a Verse of Malik Qumi With whose foot‐prints the wilderness would produce flowers The preceptor’s teaching was, “O foolish Some day take me with you up to her palace Muslim! Take me concealed in your skirt like “Necessary preparations are incumbent on fragrance” the traveler The flower bud said “On the throne is that The world’s ways have changed, such princess of ours changes have come that The Call of the Marching Bell 211

By whose kick even stones become “O with the pearl of whose poetry’s sky‐ resplendent jewels illuminating light But your nature is bright and princess’ rank is The falcon became companion of moon and elegant stars’ light! It is not possible that you reach her in Relate to me what the story of the Indian company with me Muslim is However you can reach up to our princess Is he lagging at the halt or busy in exertion is? By becoming the hot tear of some afflicted Is some warmth of din left in his veins? person The heat of whose call was once burning the Her glance is the message of ‘Eid to the sky” Muharram’s people Hali was moved by the talk of the Shaikh Turns the continuous tears of afflicted people He started weeping and saying, “O man of into pearls. miracles! When the sky turned over the leaf of time ASED ON A ERSE OF A IB B V S ’ The call came that respect was possible only O Iqbal! In what a place you have constructed with education! your nest But this has produced wavering in In this garden song is the prelude to fundamental beliefs nightingale’s disgrace! Secular benefits were obtained, but din had Though you are planting the sparks of the been undermined Valley of Aiman Goals also become exalted if the din is Sprouting of seed of Sinai is not possible in preserved this soil The youth’s nature is paralyzed and very low The bud cannot be a flower even with the keyed force of breath Concordance among individuals is kept only Where everything is devoid of the exigency of with din self‐development Din is the plectrum if national congregation is Outrageous that the nature of garden’s the musical instrument denizens is asleep If the foundation of the garden’s wall is Neither old age’s heart is awake nor the youth shaken is courageous It is clearly the beginning of the garden’s end When the intelligent hearts fall asleep in As the water of Zamzam was not available to breasts it For the singer sweet music is changed to Some manner of atheism is appearing in the poison new progeny Fly away from this garden if music’s restraint Do not talk of this in the audience of the Lord is impossible of Yathrib As better than this assembly is the seclusion Lest Muslims of India consider that this is my of some wilderness back‐biting” “Manifestation of Lailah is much better in Dates cannot be obtained from the weeds we wilderness have sown City’s strait is unable to contain wilderness’ Brocade cannot be obtained from the wool we beauty” have spun”

A CONVERSATION IN PARADISE ‐‐Sa’di Hatif said to me that in Paradise one day Sa’di of Shiraz addressed Hali in this way 212 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

RELIGION The army’s general exclaimed., “You are that young man (Includes a verse by Mirza Bedil) The respect for whose Love is binding on the The teaching of the sage of Western elders philosophy is May the God of Muhammad fulfill your wish “Those seeking the Invisible Existence are How elegant is the stage of your Love! ignorant When you arrive in the audience of the Holy If the form is unfamiliar to sight Prophet Would the Sheikh also be an idol‐maker like Present this petition with my sincere Brahmin? compliments The foundation of modern knowledge is on “The Exalted God has shown His Mercy to us the tangible Have been fulfilled all the promises you had In this age the wine‐bottle of Faith is shattered made to us.” What is known as din is an immature frenzy RELIGION Which is repulsive to human imagination” But the philosophy of life is saying something Judge not your nation on the criteria of else Western nations This secret has been divulged to me by the Special in composition is the Hashimi Perfect Preceptor Prophet’s nation “With every perfection a little distress is Based on country and race is their welcome organization However, perfect the Intellect, it is not good The force of din stabilizes your organization without Love.” If the din’s skirt is lost, disappears the organization And if organization departs also disappears N NCIDENT OF THE ATTLE OF A I B the nation! YARMUK REMAIN ATTACHED TO THE TREE KEEP The armed Arab youth were arrayed for battle SPRING’S EXPECTATION The bride of Syria’s land was waiting for myrtle The branch of the tree which got separated in A young man who was restless like mercury autumn Approaching the army’s general started Is not possible to green up with the cloud of saying spring “O Abu ‘Ubaidah grant me permission to The autumn season for this branch is ever‐ fight lasting The cup of my patience and calm is full It has no connection with flourishing in the I am becoming impatient in the Holy spring Prophet’s separation Autumn season prevails in your rose garden In his Love even a moment’s life has become also hard The pocket of the rose is devoid of good cash As I am going to the Holy Prophet’s audience The birds which were singing in the seclusion I shall gladly convey if there is any message” of leaves The general’s eye, whose sight was like an un‐ Have departed from your shady tree’s leaves sheathed sword, You should learn a lesson from the separated Noticing this zeal and fervor was moist with branch tears As you are unacquainted with the customs of the world The Call of the Marching Bell 213

Keep very strong communication with the If you should be the decoration of some nation beauty’s robe! Remain attached to the tree and have spring’s [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] expectation! SHAKESPEARE THE NIGHT OF THE CELESTIAL ASCENSION OF THE PROPHET The flowing river mirrors the red glow of dawn, This call of the evening star is coming from The quiet of the evening mirrors the evening the sky song, “This is the night before which the dawn The rose‐leaf mirrors spring’s beautiful cheek; prostrates The chamber of the cup mirrors the beauty of “For courage the ‘Arsh‐i‐Barin is only a pace the wine; away” Beauty mirrors Truth, the heart mirrors The Mi’raj’s night is saying this to the Muslim Beauty; The beauty of your speech mirrors the heart THE FLOWER of man. O flower! Why do you care for the Life finds perfection in your sky‐soaring nightingale’s wounded heart thought. First you should darn the slits of your own Was your luminous nature the goal of shirt! existence? If you long for respect in the rose garden of When the eye wished to see you, and looked, existence It saw the sun hidden in its own brilliance. You should get accustomed to living You were hidden from the eyes of the world, entangled in thorns! But with your own eyes you saw the world The juniper in the garden is free as well as exposed and bare. chained to the soil Nature guards its secrets so jealously— You should acquire freedom within these It will never again create one who knows so constraints! many secrets. With contentment give message of embarrassment to miserliness [Translated by Mustansir Mir] Do not remain obliged to dew, you should empty the cup and the bottle! I AND YOU It does not befit self respect that being picked In me no mind of Moses, in you no virtue from the garden Of Abraham: idolatrous foes like theirs, You should be put in some turban or pinned New Samris, Azars, have with eldritch arts to some collar! Destroyed us; I am a song burned out in the The dew disappeared from garden saying to throat, the flower bud And you a shrivelled colour, a frightened If you love gardener’s oppression, you should scent; create beauty I, memory of the pain of longing—you, If you want to remain unacquainted with Echo of a lament for love. My joys autumn Are gall, my honey venom, my soul twin‐ First you should abandon the desire for the brother beauty’s world To blank oblivion: your heart’s temple Look, in this alone is concealed your life’s pawned perfection! To Persia’s strange gods, your religion bartered 214 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

To infidels. Life’s every breath is numbered— IMPRISONMENT To count them, terror: to wail at life’s brief span, Imprisonment enhances confidence if the Poison; do not bewail that terror, do not nature is elegant Swallow the poison of that wailing; take The spring drop becomes blessed inside the The road by which the saints came to their shell’s prison crown, The excellent musk is nothing but a drop of And have no thought, if one spark burns in blood your dust, Which becomes musk when it is enclosed in Of wealth or penury; for here on earth the deer’s navel Black peasant bread breeds Hyder’s strength. However, not everyone gets trained by nature Oh lamp Only an odd bird is prosperous in Of the shrine! teach me, your circling moth, a imprisonment way “Strength of crow’s and kite’s wing is not in Of worship to renew in me that nature cage and prey Which like the salamander feeds on flame. This grace is reserved for the falcon and the Against the guardians of the shrine, the shrine eagle” Brings accusation of such villainy BEGGING FOR THE CALIPHATE Decked out as loyal zeal, that let me once Proclaim it in the very idol‐house, If the territory is being lost let it be lost The senseless monsters10 would cry out ‘Oh You should not be disloyal to God’s Vishnu, commands Vishnu!’ Not new to‐day the world’s arena, Do you not have knowledge of history? Not new the antagonists, face to face, hands You have started begging for the Khilafah! clenched; If we do not purchase with our own blood Unchanged of purpose stands the Lion of Such sovereignty is a disgrace to the Muslim! God, “I do not feel as much ashamed of being Unchanged the opposing champions. Aid us, broken down Prophet, As in asking others for mumiya’i for my Lord of Arabia and the alien lands! treatment.” Awaiting here thy bounty are those beggars LATE SHAH DIN HUMAYUN Whom thou has given the pride of Alexander. O Humayun! your life was full of warmth [Translated by V.G. Kiernan] Your spark was an assembly‐enlightening lamp Though your earthly body was slim and weak Your elegant disposition was bright like a star How fearless a heart in this frail body was A universal flame in this handful of dust was! But the intelligent heart was not at all afraid 10 “the senseless monsters” is a gross of death misrepresentation of Iqbal’s sanam, which simply In night’s silence there is nothing except means an idol (with the poetic connotations of morrow’s affairs! fondness). Iqbal actually means to say that the The imprudent ones consider death is the end idols too would join him if he were to complain of life against the worshippers who bring bad name to their faith, since the phenomenon is common to all religions—self‐righteous but ill‐guided followers lose sight of the higher ideals. The Call of the Marching Bell 215

This apparent evening of life is the morning of —What is the riddle of life? What thing is the perpetual life! State? or why Must labour and capital so bloodily disagree? [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Asia’s time‐honoured cloak grows ragged and KHIZR THE GUIDE wears out, From upstart lands her young men borrow THE POET their finery; By the river’s brink I stood one evening, lost Though Alexander could never find the elixir in the scene, of life, Yet hiding a world of fretting thoughts in my His robber spirit still revels here in drunken heart’s cell. glee; Night deepened silence: calm the air, languid The lord of Makkah barters the honour of the current, Makkah’s faith River or painted water the eye could scarcely That the stubborn Turk, late convert, guards tell. through war’s agony. As the sucking infant laid in the cradle falls Tyrants and flames once more on Abraham’s asleep race have glared: The restless wave lay slumberously in its For whom this new ordeal, or by whose hand deep well, prepared? The birds held captive by night’s gramarye in KHIZR’S REPLY their nests, And the faint‐gleaming stars fast bound by Desert‐roaming the bright moon’s spell. What is it to make you wonder, if I roam the There that would‐measuring courier I had desert waste? sight of—Khizr, Witness of enduring life is this unending toil That ancient in whom youth’s colours fresh as and haste! the daybreak dwell. You, shut in by walls, have never known that ‘Seeker,’ said he, ‘of eternal secrets! when the moment when shrill heart Bugle‐call that sounds the march goes echoing sees clear vision, the fates that rule earth wear over wood and hill, no veil.’ Never known the wild deer’s careless walk At these words in my soul doomed to long across its sandy plain, search awoke Never halt unroofed, uncumbered, on the trail A tumult as of Judgment Day; and thus I no milestones chain, spoke. Never fleeting vision of that star that crowns ‘To your world‐ranging eye is visible the the daybreak hour, storm Never Gabriel’s radiant brow effulgent from Whose fury yet lies in tranquil sleep under the heaven’s topmost tower, sea: Nor the going‐down of suns in stillness of That innocent life, that poor man’s boat, that desert ways, wall of the orphan, Twilight splendour such as brightened Taught Moses’ wisdom to stand before yours Abraham’s world‐beholding gaze, wonderingly! Nor those springs of running water where the You shun abodes, for desert‐roaming, for caravans take rest ways that know As in heaven bright spirits cluster round the No day or night, from yesterdays and to‐ Fountain of the Blest! morrows free. 216 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Wildernesses ever now love’s fever seeks and Until its spark engenders the eternal light. thirsts to roams— Let it shine over the soil f the East like the sun, You the furrowed field and palm‐groves fetter Until Badakhshan once more throws up the to one poor home; same priceless ruby. Mellow grows the wine of life when hand to Let it send the ambassador of its night‐ hand the cup goes round encompassing lament to the heavens; Foolish one! In this alone is life’s eternal secret Let it share its secrets with the stars of the found. night. This moment is the Day of Judgment; you are Life in the field of Judgments’ Day! Life is higher than the calculation of profit My forgetful one, put forward something you and loss; have accomplished, if you have anything Life is sometimes living and sometimes written on your scroll. forfeiting living. The State Do not measure it by the scale of today and tomorrow; What scripture sets forth riddlingly Life is eternal, constantly moving, at every Of Kings, let me impart: moment youthful. In towering empires sovereignty If you are among the living, fashion your own Is all a conjuror’s art— world; If ever subjects from their sleep Life is the secret of Adam, the essence of the Half rouse themselves, the sure words Be and it was! Enchantments of their rulers steep Ask the reality of life form the heart of the Their wits in dreams once more; mountain‐digger; Life is the milky stream, the axe and the hard When Mahmood’s blandishments begin stone. Ayaz slave‐eyes dote, In servitude the stream diminishes and almost And find a fine love‐token in runs dry, The halter round his throat. And in freedom life is an ocean which knows But now the blood of Israel no bounds. Boils up in rage at last, It knows well its power of domination, And some new Moses breaks the spell Although life is hidden in a frame of clay. That wizard Samri cast! From the sea of existence you arose like a bubble; None with diamond’s orb invest In this dwelling of loss, life your test. But the Most High alone: While you are still immature, you are a heap He is the sovereign, all the rest of dust; Are idols carved from stone; When you ripen, you will become an Stain with no slavery you free‐souled irresistible sword. Estate,—worse pagan than The heart which is impatient to die for the The Brahmin, if your chisel mould truth— A king out of a man. First of all let it create life in its form of clay. In the West the people rule, they say: Let it set fire to this earth and this sky, which And what is this new reign? are borrowed, The same harp still, the same strings play And from the embers, let it give birth itself to The despots’ old refrain; its own world. Make the hidden strength of life manifest, In Demos‐dress let tyranny’s Old demon‐dance be seen, The Call of the Marching Bell 217

Your fancy calls up Liberty’s And in Orient and in Occident your own age Blue‐mantled fairy queen! comes to birth! Those Parliaments and their reforms, For the lofty soul all ocean is too mean a gift: Charters and Bills of Rights— will you, The Western pharmacopoeia swarms Like the careless bud, much longer be content With opiate delights; with drops of dew? To those drowsy tales of Jamshid and That rhetoric of the Senator, Sikander for how long Flowing in fiery stream— Will you listen, now men’s joy is in God save the mark! the brokers’ war democracy’s new song? Of gold is its true theme. From the womb of this old universe a new red This paint and perfume, this mirage, sun is born— A garden’s blooming face For extinguished stars, of heaven, how much You thought, simpleton, and your cage longer will you mourn? A downy nesting‐place. Now the human mind has made of all its Capital and Labour chains a broken heap, For his banishment from Eden how much To the workman go, the toiler, and to him this longer must Man weep? message tell: How much longer, of the garden’s old Words not mine alone, a message that the attendant asks the Spring, world’s four corners swell— For the red wounds of the rose your idle Oh, the crafty man of capital has devoured ointments will you bring? you flesh and fell: Silly firefly, so long fluttering round the On the wild deer’s horns for ages your candle, now be free! reward has run astray! Where the lamp of your own spirit shines, In the hand that forges all wealth he has there let your dwelling be. dropped a grudging pay, As the poor receive in charity what their The World of Islam betters throw away. Why do you tell me the story of the Arab and Like an Old Man of the Mountain he has fed the Turk? you with hashish, Nothing of the burning and making of the And poor innocent! you took it for the Muslims is hidden from me. sweetest‐flavoured dish; The sons of the Trinity have taken away the For the bourgeoisie is cunning, and from heritage of Khalil; country and from creed, The sand of Hijaz has been made into the Colour, culture, caste and kingdom, has foundation stone of the Church! brewed drugs to serve its need; The red‐capped one has been dishonoured in For these false gods, witless victim, you have the world; rushed upon your doom Those who were pride from head to foot, And been robbed of life’s bright treasure for today are compelled to submission. the taste of its mad fume. Persia is buying from the vintners of the West Your sharp paymasters have swept the board, that heady wine they cheat and know no shame: Whose heat is enough to melt the jar. You, forever unsuspecting, have forever lost By the wisdom of the West the state of the the game. Community has become thus: But now come! for ways are changing in As scissors cut gold into tiny pieces. assembly of the earth, 218 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The blood of the Muslim has become cheap as You have seen the heights of the power of the water; river’s current; And you are fretting because your heart does Now see how the agitated wave forms a not know the secret. chain. Said Rumi: Before they can repopulate any The dream which Islam saw of general ancient ruin, do you not know that first of all freedom— they must destroy the foundation? Oh Muslim, see the interpretation of that dream. The country slipped from its hands, and the eyes of Its own bed of ashes is the means of existence the community were opened; for the salamander; God has blessed you with sight; look forward, See this old world dies and is born again. my negligent one! Open your eyes and look at the mirror of my Defeat is better than begging for balm; words; Wingless ant! Do not bring your request See a hazy picture of the age to come. before Solomon. The sky has another well‐tried plague to The cohesion of the Radiant Community is bring; the salvation of the East, See the disgrace of scheming before fate. But the people of Asia are so far ignorant of You are a Muslim; fill your breast with desire; this principle. At every time keep before your eyes the Again abandon politics and enter the words My promise is never broken. ramparts of the faith; Polity and dominion are only a fruit of the [Translated by V.G. Kiernan and D.J. Matthews]11 protection of the Shrine. May the Muslims unite in watching over the HE ISE OF SLAM Shrine, T R I From the banks of the Nile to the deserts of The dimness of the stars is evidence of the Kashghar. bright morning. Whoever practises discrimination of colour The sun has risen over the horizon; the time of and blood will be erased, deep slumber has passed. Whether he be a tent‐dwelling Turk or an The blood of life runs in the veins of the dead Arab of noble family! East: If race takes precedence over the religion of Avicenna and Farabi cannot understand this the Muslim, secret. You have flown from the world like the dust The storm in the West made Muslims of the highway. Muslims. So that the foundation of the Caliphate may Pearls are produced in abundance from the be once again firm in the world, very buffetings of the sea. Search for and bring from somewhere the The true believers are once more to receive heart and spirit of your ancestors. from the court of God Ah you who cannot distinguish the hidden The glory of the Turkamans, the intellect of from the revealed, become aware! the Indians and the eloquence of the Arabs. You, caught up in Abu Bakr and Ali, become aware! 11 Lamentation was necessary, but now that is In ‘Khizr the Guide’ the section ‘The Poet’ and over. the sub‐sections ‘The State’ and ‘Capital and Labour’ were translated by V.G. Kiernan. The Now control your heart a little and see the remaining sub‐sections, ‘Life’ and ‘The World of effect of the lament. Islam’ have been taken from the translation of D.J. Matthews. The Call of the Marching Bell 219

If there is still some trace of sleep left in the The spirit of the royal falcon may arise in the buds, my nightingale, delicate body of the dove! Then make your songs more plaintive, for you The secret of life is hidden in your breast— found their desire to hear your melody too then tell it; little.12 Tell the Muslims the account of the burning Whether your agitation be in the courtyard of and re‐making of life. the garden, in the nest, in the leafy You are the ever‐powerful hand and the branches— tongue of the eternal God; This quicksilver‐destiny cannot be separated Give birth to certainty, of negligent one, for from mercury. your are laid low by doubt. Why should that pure‐seeing eye look at the The goal of the Muslim lies beyond the blue glitter of armour on the horse sky; When it sees the valour of the holy warrior? You are the caravan, which the stars follow as Make the lamp of desire bright in the heart of dust on the road. the tulip! Space is transient; its inhabitants are Make every particle of the garden a martyr to transitory, but the beginning of time is search! yours; its end is yours. The effect of the spring‐rain is born in the You are the final message of God; you are tears of the Muslims. eternal. Pearls will be born again in the sea of the The blood of your heart is the henna which Friend of God. decorates the tulip‐bride. This book of the Radiant Community is You belong to Abraham; you are the builder receiving a new binding; of the world. The Hashimite branch is once more ready to Your nature is the trustee of all the bring forth new leaves and fruit. possibilities of life; The Turk of Shiraz has ravished the heart of You are like the touchstone of the hidden Tabriz and Kabul; essence of the world. The morning breeze makes the scent of the The One who left this world of water and clay rose its companion on the road. for eternal life— If a mountain of grief collapsed upon the The one whom the prophethood took with Ottomans, then why lament? it—you are that gift. For the dawn arises from the blood of a This principle rises from the story of the hundred thousand stars. Radiant Community— More difficult than the conquest of the world You are the guardian of the nations of the is the task of seeing the world; land of Asia. When the heart is reduced to blood, only then Read again the lesson of truth, of justice and does the eye of the heart receive its sight. valour! For a thousand years the narcissus has been You will be asked to do the work of taking on lamenting its blindness; responsibility for the world. With great difficulty the one with true vision This is the destiny of nature; this is the secret is born in the garden. of Islam— Burst into song, oh nightingale! so that from World‐wide brotherhood, an abundance of your melody love! Break the idols of colour and blood and become lost in the community. 12 The italicized line is translated from the poet Urfi Let neither Turanians, Iranians nor Afghan Shirazi. Iqbal also used it in his poem ‘Urfi’. remain. 220 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

How long will you keep company in the The blood of the sun will drip, of we split the branches with the birds of the garden; heart of an atom. In your arms is the flight of the royal hawk of Firm certainty, eternal action, the love that Quhistan. conquers the world— In the abode of doubts of existence is the These are the swords of men in the holy war certainty of the Muslim hero; of life. In the darkness of the desert night is the What else does man need but a lofty spirit candle of the monks. and pure character, What was it that erased the tyranny of Caesar A warm heart, a pure‐sighted eye and a and Cyrus? restless soul? The power of Hyder, the asceticism of Bu Those who rushed forward with the Dharr, the truth of Salman! splendour of the eagle emerged plucked of How magnificently the heroes of the their wings and plumage; community have blazed the trail, The stars of evening sank in the blood of the And those who have been prisoners for sunset but rose again. centuries peer at them through a crack in the Those who swam under the sea were buried door. by the ocean, The stability of life in the world comes from But those who suffered the buffeting of the the strength of faith, wave arose, and became pearls. For the Turanians have emerged firmer than Those who prided themselves on their even the Germans. alchemy are the dust of the wayside; When certainty is born in these embers of Those who kept their forehead upon the dust ashes, emerged as the makers of elixir. Then it gives birth to the wings of Gabriel. Our slow‐running messenger brought the In slavery, neither swords or plans are tidings of life; effective, Those to whom the lightning gave news But when the taste for certainty is created, emerged unknowing. then the chains are cut. The Shrine was disgraced by the lack of Can anyone even guess at the strength of his foresight of the old keeper of the shrine; arm? But how our Tartar heroes emerged as young By the glance of the man who is a true men of vision! believer even destiny is changed. Those who soar aloft and light the sky say this Empire, sainthood, the knowledge of things to the earth, which holds the world in its sway— ‘These earth‐bound creatures emerged more What are they all? Only commentaries on one lively, more stable and more shining.’ small point of faith. In the world, the people of faith live like the But it is difficult to create the insight of sun; Abraham; Here they sink, there they arise, there they Desire insidiously paints pictures in our sink, here they arise! breasts. The certainty of individuals is the capital for The distinction of servant and lord has put building the community; mankind into turmoil; This is the power which draws the portrait of Beware, oh powerful ones; the penalties of the fate of the community. nature are harsh. You are the secret of creation, see yourself in There is one reality for everything, be it of your eyes; earth or fire; Share the secret of your own self, become the spokesman of God. The Call of the Marching Bell 221

Greed has split mankind into little pieces; Open the knot of the bud, for you are the Become the statement of brotherhood, become spring breeze for this garden. the language of love. Once more the spark of love has arisen from Here are Indians, there people of Khurasan, the heart of Asia; here Afghans, there Turanians— The earth is the coursing‐ground for the stain‐ You, who despise the shore, rise up and make cloaked Tartars. yourself boundless. Arise! A buyer has come to our hapless life; Your wings and your plumage are soiled with After an age, the time has come for our caravan’s the dust of colour and race; departure. You, my bird of the holy shrine, shake your Come, Saki! The song of the bird of the wings before you start to fly. garden has come from the branches; Immerse yourself in your self, my forgetful The spring has come; the beloved has come; one, this is the secret of life; the beloved has come; peace has come! Come out from the fetters of evening and The spring cloud has pitched its tent in the morning, become immortal. valley and the desert; On the battle‐field of life adopt the nature of The sound of the waterfall has come from the steel; summit of the mountains. In the bed‐chamber of love become as soft as I implore you; renew the law of the past! silk and painted brocade. For the army of singers has come drove upon Pass like a river in full spate through the drove. mountains and the deserts; Turn away from the ascetics and fearlessly If the garden should come your way, then drink wine from the jar; become a melodiously singing stream. After an age the song of the nightingale has There is no limit to your knowledge and love; rung out from this old branch. In the instrument of nature there is no sweeter Bring the account of the Master of Badr and song than you. Hunain to those who yearn; Even now, mankind if the miserable prey to Its hidden mystic powers have been revealed imperialism; to the eye. How distressing that man is hunted by man! Again the branch of Khalil has been watered The glitter of modern civilization dazzles the by the sap of our blood; sight; In the marketplace of love our cash has But this clever craftsmanship is a mosaic of proved to be perfect. false jewels. I scatter the pearls of tulips upon the dust of That science, in which the scholars of the West the martyrs, took pride, For their blood has proved to be effective for Is the sword of warfare held in the bloody the saplings of the community. grip of greed. Come, so that we may strew roses and pour a That civilization of the world, which is measure of wine in the cup! founded on capitalism, Let us split open the roof of the heavens and Can never be become strong by spellbinding think upon new ways. schemes. [Translated by D.J. Matthews] By action life may become both paradise and hell; GHAZALS This creature of dust in its nature is neither of O zephyr! Convey my message to the one light nor of fire. wrapped in blanket Teach the nightingale to send forth its The poor Ummah has lost both din and clamour; material resources 222 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

The river bank gave this message to the Love fearlessly jumped into the fire of restless wave Namrud “Union with ocean is still far and you have Intellect is absorbed in the spectacle from already lost patience in the river” roof‐top still O Qais! Love’s honor is made durable with Love moves fast in action under the litter’s curtain messenger’s precept If litter is lost, glory, honor as well as Lailah is Intellect has not even understood the Love’s lost! message still Though the drop got pearl’s dignity by The way of Love is freedom and world abandoning struggle revolution It lost taste for wandering and struggle in the You are imprisoned in day and night’s temple river still Though this voice has emerged from Iqbal’s On the plea of temperance the cup‐bearer says lips its source is unknown rudely The assembly got hope’s message as well as In your heart is the same anxiety for the end became restless for activism still Constant struggle is the measure for life’s * Kamm and Kaif These songs of turtle doves and nightingales Your measure is the counting of days and are merely ear’s illusion nights still Behind this uproar the world of the garden is O spring rain! How long this miserliness? silent The tulips of my hillside are thirsty still O Western wine the effect of your goblets is They are accustomed to `Ajam’s wine I have only this the `Arab wine That cup‐bearer is laughing and the entire My cup makes wine‐drinkers startled still assembly is unconscious Zepheyr has brought news about Iqbal from In the world’s sorrowful house you are not the garden traceable The newly seized is writhing under the net Was creation also a crime so Your nature is still. concealed? * Ah! What the world considers heart is not heart Lift the veil from thy Face and be manifest in In the human breast this is a silent tumult the assembly Walk on the path of life but walk carefully Make the eyes of the sun, moon and stars thy Understand that some glass work is on your spectators shoulders If thou art the lightning how long this secret Through whom Delhi and Lahore were winking? drawn together Make acquaintance with my heart without a Ah! Iqbal that nightingale is silent now. veil. The warm breath’s effect is the miracle of life * If it is on thy breast perform life‐giving O dejected nightingale your lament is miracles immature still How long should begging be on the Tur like You should hold it in your breast for a little Kaleem! while still Make the flame of Sinai manifest with thy If Intellect is prudent it is considered mature existence If Love is prudent it is considered immature Let the Harem be built with every speck of still thy dust The Call of the Marching Bell 223

Make the heart alien to the ways of the Church My dark misdeeds found no refuge in the It is not good to exceed limits in this garden wide world— If thou showeth elegance make its show with The only refuge they found was in Thy grace beginning forgiveness. First become self‐respecting like Alexander. Then make the show of desire of Dara’s Even as I laid down my head in prostration a grandeur cry arose from the ground: You will reach the destination of Layla one Thy heart is enamoured of the idol, what shalt day, O Iqbal thou gain by prayer? For some more days continue wandering in the wilderness [Anonymous translation]13 * * The spring breeze is flowing again start singing, No wonder if the garden birds remained fond O Iqbal of poetry even under the net If you are a bud be the flower, if a flower the The lament fluttering in hearts as silent song garden become remained You are a handful of dust, with the warmth of Thy Effulgence could not satisfy the restless the components heart at all Wander around, scatter about and wilderness The same dawn’s lament remained, the same in extent become midnight sighs remained You belong to the essence of Love, you are Neither God, nor idols nor the rivals of invaluable temple and the Harem remained The purchasers are indigent, low priced in Neither ‘Ali’s prowess nor Abu Lahab’s this country become infidelity remained Why should your tunes be veiled in the Though my orchestra remained oppressed by guitar’s frets? `Ajam’s plectrum You are an ornamented song, evident to every I am that martyr in fidelity’s cause whose ear become song ever Arabic remained! O wise traveler! If in your path you encounter * The garden become dew, if wilderness the storm become Though you are bound by cause and effect Indulgence is concealed in the love of Keep your heart a little independent opulence Intellect is not free from criticism If you aim at the destination, destroyer of Establish the foundation of your deeds on opulence become Love O Muslim always in your mind [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] Keep the verse La Yukhlif ul mi ‘ad * This is the message of the Voice of Time Always deep in heart Inna wa`d‐Allah i Haqqun For once, O awaited Reality, reveal Thyself in a form material, [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] For a thousand prostrations are quivering eagerly in my submissive brow. Know the pleasure of tumult: thou art a tune 13 consort with the ear! This translation appears as a page‐filler in Iqbal What is that melody worth, which hides itself Review April 1967 but the translator could be Lt.‐ Col. K.A. Rashid since he is credited for another in the silent chords of the harp. filler on p.22 of the same issue. 224 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

SATIRICAL * In the East principles are changed to religion It does not matter if the preacher is poor But in the West they are changed into He should bend to the new civilization machines Much has been written on cancellation of We do not retain even one of them jihad There one is changed into three He should write a tract on cancellation of hajj * * The girls are learning English The patient of civilization will not be cured by The nation prosperity’s way has found the goli The ways of the West are in view For curing of the malady you should present Eastern ways sinful are found him with pill What scenes will this drama produce? There was a time when in exchange for the On curtain’s rising this will be found teacher’s services One wanted that the gift of the heart he * should present! The Sheikh also is not a supporter of women’s Times have changed so much that the pupil seclusion after the lesson The college boys unnecessarily suspicious of Says to the teacher “You should present the him became bill” He clearly stated in the sermon yesterday * “From whom would women be secluded if men women became” Will there be an end to this, how long should we buy * Umbrellas, handkerchiefs, mufflers, shirts O wise man! This is a matter of a few days from Japan only If this condition of our complacence continues Neither you will be modest nor woman will Washers of the dead will come from Kabul, seclusion want shrouds from Japan That time is approaching when instead of * children Votes for the council’s membership will she We poor Easterners have been entangled in want the West All crystal decanters are there, only an old * earthen jar is here Western education is very encouraging All will be annihilated in this age except the Its first lesson is to brag sitting in the college one As only the purchasers inhabit India Who established in his ways and firm in his Afghans also bring assafoetida from their thought is country O Shaikh and Brahman do you listen to what My condition is that I lick the toe of the boot people with insight say? She says “Beware do not be crawling on my Heaven from great heights has thrown down carpet” those nations The camel is said to be a somewhat clumsy Who formerly had assemblies of affection animal with firm love The cow is good as she has slender horns Now under discussion is Urdu and Hindi or Dhibh and Jhatka The Call of the Marching Bell 225

* * “The search, the witness and the thing Membership of the Imperial council is not at witnessed are the same” all difficult If this saying of Ghalib is true there is no Votes will be available; Will we be paid strangeness money also? O Shaikh! Have you heard something? May God bless Mirza Ghalib, who has rightly What the temple’s people’s say to the said Ka`bah’s people! “We are prepared to live in Delhi, how shall “We ask the Muslim with the disposition of a we subsist”? lover 16 If you love the idols why is enmity with the What will be a better proof of affection and Brahman?” fidelity With no love for you how intolerable will this * cruelty be We have lost all material resources Insistence is that in the ward committee I The thought of Judgment Day has gone also should also speak The Shaikh was fighting for Endowment Acts But I shall speak after guessing if the Collector Ask him if there is any property left for agreeable with me will be endowment also? Obtain the testimonial, it will be of use for * sons He is favorable now, later he may or may not As I tried to commit suicide the Miss be exclaimed Indians cannot find a place on the earth “O lover! If you are civilized do not transgress But the oceans’ bottom available may be the limits Like the insensitive boat we are subservient to Without courage or dagger suicide’s intention orders is strange We are bound to the bank or float as your Even granting your pain of failure has desire may be exceeded the limits” I said, “O dear, give me some cash * I shall hire some Afghan from the Frontier The Sheikh was giving a sermon on the mode Province” of operation * “The infidels of India are very hard working in business So naive were they not to appreciate the Polytheists are those having trade relations Arabs’ worth with polytheists What they got was that assault and battery But our nation’s people are lacking in they escaped not intelligence and sense In the West camel is called ship of the desert Unclean is the article touched by the infidel The Turks made use of this fleet not Should listen if Muslim’s ears are amenable to * truth! A drunkard was also present in the sermon’s In India councils are a part of the government assembly This is the start of our political perfection To whom such talks as those of the preacher We were always beggars, begging was our were irksome way He said, “It is atrocious that in such The rich should now acquire the skill of restrictions “begging” 226 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal

Are imprisoned the dealings in articles of If the gardener learns the lesson of uniformity eating and drink” Why should not the gardens’ birds live in I said, “There is no difficulty for you harmony As in India Muslims also are liquor sellers!” Give me also the same cup as only this appears proper * You should be intoxicated, your companions Let us see how long this business of the East should also be intoxicated lasts “The patched garment of Hafiz is worthless, People are buying cups and jars instead of color him with wine din’s goblets Then bring him to the market, lost and The cure of Love is the new education’s lancet intoxicated My surgeon is drawing blood from the * Millat’s vein Last night the mosquito related to me * The whole story of his failures The cow one day started saying to the camel “They give me only one drop of blood Nothing in the world rests in one condition In return for the whole night’s labor I am ignominious by breaking my rope And this land owner without any effort I hear you have also broken your nose string Sucked all the blood of the cultivator” Though you are important in India for * political reasons But due to railway the Arabian desert finds This new ‘verse’ was revealed to me from the no use for you jail Till yesterday you were avoiding the cow’s That the Quran is in the Gita and the Gita is in companionship the Quran The voice of ‘never’ on your hanging lips was How well friendship developed between persistent Sheikh and Brahmin What is the matter that you are so favorable to In this battle after all neither this nor that was me today winning That old displeasure does not exist in your “Badri” was already disgusted with the temple heart today “Masita” does not step out of the mosque, he Hearing this speech the camel bashfully said is stubborn. I am also to be counted among your lovers * The envy of hundreds of camel’s ogle is your one frisk Life may be lost but truth should not be lost Since long I am the lover of such a frisk This one principle is the core of all religions The effects of your tumults have spread in the They are the birds of the same feather, forest such Banking, landlordship, monarchy That speech has produced its taste even * among the speechless I am living only in one desert since a long Capital and labor are in confrontation with time each other As I have nothing I am fed on borrowed Let us see how many people’s expectations money are destroyed If goat, camel, cow, leopard and the lame With cleverness and prudence this mischief donkey cannot be delayed All exist in the same condition we shall have Because “Wa qad kuntum bihi tasta’jilun” prestige Gog and Magog all have been released The Call of the Marching Bell 227

The Muslim eye will see the meaning of The carpenter has also been pared Yansilun The Europe’s planes are very sharp * * That eternal rind has departed from the The owner of the factory is a useless man border of Sham He is very pleasure loving, hard work does Shelving away all the rules and etiquette of not suit him the tavern God’s command is “Laisa lil Insani Illa Ma If so, how much is this the occasion for Sa’a” admonition Fruit of laborer’s work should not be usurped The blue sky changes its colors in a moment by the capitalist Cursor certainly would be concerned with * remedial measures In the belly of obedience has started I have heard this was the talk in the factory unequaled convulsion yesterday Sir Agha Khan is demanding the delegation “The artisans only in old huts have their from India abode Is this the digestive for devouring Iraq and But what a good council hall the government Palestine has made In this city the capitalists did not have any * abode” One day a dispute arose between the farmer * and the owner Each of them was saying that the land Though the mosque was built overnight by belonged to him the believers The farmer said that the field belonged to the Our heart being old sinner for years devout cultivator could not be The owner said that the farmer had become What a beautiful message did Sanusi give to demented King Faisal I asked the land as to whose property it was By descent you Hijazi are, but in heart Hijazi It replied that it was believing only this: could no be Whether it be the owner or the wretched Though eyes become wet there is no pleasure farmer is in this weeping Whatever is under the sky is property of the If by mixture of affliction’s blood tears pink land could not be Iqbal is a good advisor, fascinates the heart in * moments Throw them out in the alley He did become hero in talk, but one in deeds The new civilization’s eggs are rotten he could not be. Election, membership, council, presidency [Translated by M.A.K. Khalil] The nooses of independence are very strange