Allama Iqbal's Poems
 

[B]A Mother's Dream[/B]

One night while sleeping
I dreamt
Seeing which I began
To get impatient
I saw that
To a place I am going
Where everywhere was dark
And paths are not reaching
As I proceeded
With the confidence I gathered
A queue I saw
Where boys had assembled
Emerald-like garment
They were wearing
In every hand
A little lamp was burning
Without making any noise
To and fro they were moving
Lord alone knows
Where exactly were they going?
While in this thought
My son did I find
Standing in this set
And left behind.
He was at the back
'coz he was not quick.
The lamp in his hand
Was not getting burnt.
I said 'Dear One!
Remember me.
Leaving me behind,
Where have you come?
Restless I am
In your separation
Enjoining I am
A necklace of tears
To us you have showed
No concern at all
The wound once healed
Loyal you are not at all
When saw the children
My fret and fume
Turning his face
The reply came
If you are sad
When from you I separate
Neither for your lad
Is there any profit (in separation)!
Saying this, the child
For sometime remained quiet.
Then lamp in his hand held
He spoke thus:
Are you wondering,
What to this is happening?
Your tears flowing
Has barred it from burning.

[U]The Choice is Yours[/U]!

If the kings know not their Sustainer they are beggars,

And if the beggars do they are Darius and Jamshed;

Freedom of the heart is sovereignity; stomach is death,

The choice is yours; heart or stomach?

Note: Iqbal placed a great value for disciplining of Selfhood and the cultivation of Ego. Iqbal held the beggar , whose poverty possessed the nature of Hazrat Ali (the fourth Caliph of Islam), to be more superior than Darius and Alexander. Iqbal's own existence was a glowing example of his idea of self-realization. In the above verses, Iqbal exhorts to others what he practiced himself till the dying day. (summarized from Glory of Iqbal, Syed Abul Hasan Ali Nadwi)

[U]The Ideal Woman [/U]

Fret not thyself

To calculate the profit and the loss,

Being content to tread the well-worn path

Our fathers went before. Be wary of

Time's depredations, and to thy broad breast

Gather thy children close; these meadow-chicks,

Unfledged as yet to fly, have fallen far

From their warm nest. High, high the carvings are

That wrestle with thy soul; be conscious still

And ever of thy model, Fatimah,

So that thy branch may bear a new Hussein,

Our garden blossom with the Golden Age.'


Note: Allama Iqbal is warning the Muslim Women to guard themselves from the conspiracies of Modern Civilization. He exhorts them to remain firm on the footsteps of Lady Fatimah (ra) and to bring up her children with the qualities of Hussein (ra). [Jaihoon]

* source : jaihoon.com/iqbal

English translation by AJ Arberry, The Mysteries of Selflessness, translation of Iqbal's Asrar-o-Ramuz.

[B]Prayer of a child[/B]

On my lips is coming a wish-like prayer Lord!
May my life burn like a candle-like fire!
With my breath may the darkness depart,
With my light let every corner ignite.
Let my breath add to the beauty of my nation
Like how a flower adds to the beauty of a garden
I wish my life were a moth, O lord!
In love if I was with the flame of knowledge, O Lord!
May my task be to defend the poor
To love those who at heart are weak and sore
O My Allah! Save me from doing what is bad
On the path that is right, on that You lead!