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View Poll Results: Do u beleive Iqbal is the greatest poet n scholar of last century???
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  #121  
Old Thursday, April 29, 2010
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Default اس زمانے ميں کوئي حيدر کرار بھي ہے؟

مکتبوں ميں کہيں رعنائي افکار بھي ہے؟
خانقاہوں ميں کہيں لذت اسرار بھي ہے؟

منزل راہرواں دور بھي ، دشوار بھي ہے
کوئي اس قافلے ميں قافلہ سالار بھي ہے؟

بڑھ کے خيبر سے ہے يہ معرکہ دين و وطن
اس زمانے ميں کوئي حيدر کرار بھي ہے؟

علم کي حد سے پرے ، بندہ مومن کے ليے
لذت شوق بھي ہے ، نعمت ديدار بھي ہے

پير ميخانہ يہ کہتا ہے کہ ايوان فرنگ
سست بنياد بھي ہے ، آئنہ ديوار بھي ہے



Translation


Does freshness of thought
Exist in any school?
And do the sanctums provide
Pleasures esoteric?

Thy goal is far away,
The journey a Herculean task;
Is there a leader of men,
Who could guide this caravan?

This war for faith is greater
Than the Khayber war;
Is there in our age
A warrior as brave as Ali?

Beyond the realm of knowledge
Are pleasures for the Muslim—
he pleasures of ecstasy,
The pleasures of a vision.

Discerning eyes can see
In the luminous dome of the West,
Cracks and rifts at the base,
Shattering glass at the top.



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  #122  
Old Friday, April 30, 2010
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Default يا مري آہ ميں کوئي شرر زندہ نہيں

حادثہ وہ جو ابھي پردہ افلاک ميں ہے
عکس اس کا مرے آئينہ ادراک ميں ہے

نہ ستارے ميں ہے ، نے گردش افلاک ميں ہے
تيري تقدير مرے نالہ بے باک ميں ہے

يا مري آہ ميں کوئي شرر زندہ نہيں
يا ذرا نم ابھي تيرے خس و خاشاک ميں ہے

کيا عجب ميري نوا ہائے سحر گاہي سے
زندہ ہو جائے وہ آتش کہ تري خاک ميں ہے

توڑ ڈالے گي يہي خاک طلسم شب و روز
گرچہ الجھي ہوئي تقدير کے پيچاک ميں ہے



Translation

As captured in a mirror,
Are glimpses in my mind,
Of events that are folded still
In the scroll of time.

Perhaps my sighs are not
Infused with fire yet,
Or thou art unable to catch
A spark from my fire.

One day, the warmth of my sighs,
Like a Promethean spark,
Will inflame the fire of thy soul,
Now dormant in thy dust.

This dust will demolish
The illusion of day and night,
Though now it lies enchained
In the grip of fate.






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  #123  
Old Friday, April 30, 2010
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Post جہان عمل

جہان عمل

ہست این میکدہ و دعوت عام است اینجا
قسمت بادہ بہ اندازۂ جام است اینجا

حرف آن راز کہ بیگانۂ صوت است ہنوز
از لب جام چکید است و کلام است اینجا

نشہ از حال بگیرند و گذشتند ز قال
نکتۂ فلسفہ درد تہ جام است اینجا

ما درین رہ نفس دھر برانداختہ ایم
آفتاب سحر او لب بام است اینجا

ای کہ تو پاس غلط کردۂ خود میدارے
آنچہ پیش تو سکون است خرام است اینجا

ما کہ اندر طلب از خانہ برون تاختہ ایم
علم را جان بدمیدیم و عمل ساختہ ایم






THE WORLD OF ACTION


This world is a free tavern, and to all who come to it
Wine is served in accordance with their bowl’s capacity.
The secret that has not yet been expressed in words
Has been expressed here in wine’s ove rbrimming charactery.
Those who come here get drunk with action and not with mere words.

Dregs at the bottom of life’s cup is mere philosophy.
We have endeavoured hard to make life take to action’s path,
And now its morning’s sun is near the margin of the sky.
O you who try to be consistent with your past mistakes.
Whatever you regard as rest is here mobility.
We who have come out to pursue the path of seeking have
Converted knowledge into action and thus made it live.
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  #124  
Old Saturday, May 01, 2010
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Default سما سکا نہ دو عالم ميں مرد آفاقي

رہا نہ حلقہ صوفي ميں سوز مشتاقي
فسانہ ہائے کرامات رہ گئے باقي

خراب کوشک سلطان و خانقاہ فقير
فغاں کہ تخت و مصلي کمال زراقي

کرے گي داور محشر کو شرمسار اک روز
کتاب صوفي و ملا کي سادہ اوراقي

نہ چيني و عربي وہ ، نہ رومي و شامي
سما سکا نہ دو عالم ميں مرد آفاقي

م ے شبانہ کي مستي تو ہو چکي ، ليکن
کھٹک رہا ہے دلوں ميں کرشمہ ساقي

چمن ميں تلخ نوائي مري گوارا کر
کہ زہر بھي کبھي کرتا ہے کار ترياقي

عزيز تر ہے متاع امير و سلطاں سے
وہ شعر جس ميں ہو بجلي کا سوز و براقي


Translation

Sufis lack the fire, the passion that consumes,
But in miracles and in wonders their circles abound.

Be it the king’s palace, or the fakir’s sanctum,
Both have. usurped God’s power of providing sustenance.

On the Day of Judgement, God will be embarrassed
By the blank book of the Sufi, and the mindless mullah.

The world— wanderer does not yield to the world’s shackles,
Be it Arabia the blessed, The ‘Immortal City’ or China.

Inebriation of the night is a vaporous memory now,
But The Cup—bearer’s glances are an eternal flame.

Bear with my songs, venom — bared and harsh—
For it is venom that acts as an antidote sometimes.

A song that has the power of thunderbolts from heaven,.
Is worthier than all the wealth of kings and potentates.




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  #125  
Old Saturday, May 01, 2010
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Post کبر و ناز

کبر و ناز

یخ ، جوی کوہ را ز رہ کبر و ناز گفت
ما را ز مویۂ تو شود تلخ روزگار
گستاخ می سرائی و بیباک میروی
ہر سال شوخ دیدہ و آوارہ تر ز پار
شایان دودمان کہستانیان نئے
خود را مگوی دخترک ابر کوہسار
گردندہ و فتندہ و غلطندہ ئی بخاک
راہ دگر بگیر و برو سوی مرغزار
گفت آب جو چنین سخن دل شکن مگوی
بر خویشتن مناز و نھال منی مکار
من میروم کہ در خور این دودمان نیم
تو خویش را ز مہر درخشان نگاہ دار
VANITY


Said snow in cold superior syllables to the mountain stream:
"O babbler, I am weary of your meaningless uproar.
You talk so impudently and you walk so saucily,
And ever bolder are your gait and glances than before.
You are not fit to be a member of our family;
So never claim to be a creature whom the mountain bore.
You roam and roll and tumble like an urchin in the dust.
Go to the felds and plains and let us hear of you no more."
The stream replied, "O do not speak such hurtful words to me.
Do not be so proud and, what is more, do not be a boor.
I go because the mountain household is too high for me;
But you be careful lest the sun should melt you to the core."
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  #126  
Old Sunday, May 02, 2010
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Default زمانہ عقل کو سمجھا ہوا ہے مشعل راہ

ہوا نہ زور سے اس کے کوئي گريباں چاک
اگرچہ مغربيوں کا جنوں بھي تھا چالاک

م ے يقيں سے ضمير حيات ہے پرسوز
نصيب مدرسہ يا رب يہ آب آتش ناک

عروج آدم خاکي کے منتظر ہيں تمام
يہ کہکشاں ، يہ ستارے ، يہ نيلگوں افلاک

يہي زمانہ حاضر کي کائنات ہے کيا
دماغ روشن و دل تيرہ و نگہ بے باک

تو بے بصر ہو تو يہ مانع نگاہ بھي ہے
وگرنہ آگ ہے مومن ، جہاں خس و خاشاک

زمانہ عقل کو سمجھا ہوا ہے مشعل راہ
کسے خبر کہ جنوں بھي ہے صاحب ادراک

جہاں تمام ہے ميراث مرد مومن کي
ميرے کلام پہ حجت ہے نکتہ لولاک


Translation


Intuition in the West was clever in its power,
But had not the plenitude for absolute abandon.

The quintessence of life is the force of faith supreme—
It is a force denied to all our seats of learning.

The galaxies, the planets, the firmament, are all
Waiting for man’s rise, like a star in heaven.

Brains are bright and hearts are dark and eyes are bold,
Is this the sum and substance of what our age has gained?

The world is a haystack for the fire of the Muslim soul,
But if thou art eyeless, thou canst not find thy way.

To a multitude of men, reason is the guide,
They know not that frenzy has a wisdom of its own.





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  #127  
Old Sunday, May 02, 2010
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Default کرمک شبتاب

کرمک شبتاب


شنیدم کرمک شبتاب می گفتنہ
آن مورم کہ کس نالد ز نیشم
توان بی منت بیگانگان سوخت
نپنداری کہ من پروانہ کیشم
اگر شب تیرہ تر از چشم آہوست
خود افروزم چراغ راہ خویشم




THE GLOW-WORM


I hear the glow-worm said to itself, "I
Am not an insect that hurts with its sting.

One can burn in one’s own fire. So do not
Regard me as a moth that has to fling

Itself into a flame. If the night be
Dark as deer’s eyes, I light my path myself."
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  #128  
Old Monday, May 03, 2010
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Default يا حيرت فارابي يا تاب و تب رومي

يوں ہاتھ نہيں آتا وہ گوہر يک دانہ
يک رنگي و آزادي اے ہمت مردانہ!

يا سنجر و طغرل کا آئين جہاں گيري
يا مرد قلندر کے انداز ملوکانہ!

يا حيرت فارابي يا تاب و تب رومي
يا فکر حکيمانہ يا جذب کليمانہ!

يا عقل کي روباہي يا عشق يد اللہي
يا حيلہ افرنگي يا حملہ ترکانہ!

يا شرع مسلماني يا دير کي درباني
يا نعرہ مستانہ ، کعبہ ہو کہ بت خانہ!

ميري ميں فقيري ميں ، شاہي ميں غلامي ميں
کچھ کام نہيں بنتا بے جرأت رندانہ


Translation

Cut the Gordian knot,
And capture thy jewel;
Be of courage, be united,
Have a spirit free.

The ascetic fakir,
Clad only in rags,
Is mightier in power,
Than kings that rule the earth.

Farabi had a mind;
Rumi had a soul;
One ended in astonishment,
The other in absorption.

Choose the cunning of reason,
Or love and the help of God;
Either the guile of the West,
Or the valour of the Turk—,

Either a Muslim’s path,
Or servitude to the idols;
And a cry of passionate faith,
In Kaaba or the temple.

Whether a king or a fakir,
A master or a slave,
What thou needst most,
Is courage with abandon.



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  #129  
Old Monday, May 03, 2010
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Post

کرم کتابی


شنیدم شبی در کتب خانۂ من
بہ پروانہ می گفت کرم کتابی
بہ اوراق سینا نشیمن گرفتم
بسی دیدم از نسخۂ فاریابی
نفہمیدہ ام حکمت زندگی را
ہمان تیرہ روزم ز بی آفتابی
نکو گفت پروانۂ نیم سوزی
کہ این نکتہ را در کتابی نیابی
تپش می کند زندہ تر زندگی را
تپش می دہد بال و پر زندگی را




THE BOOKWORM AND THE MOTH

I hear that in my library one night
A bookworm spoke thus to a moth:
"I have long lodged in Sina’s14 tomes
And have consumed much of Farabi’s15 manuscript.
But I have not learned anything
About life’s mystery,
And am just as much in the dark
About it as before."

The half-burnt moth gave it a fine reply
"You will not find life’s mystery
Explained in books.
However, here it is:
What gives to life intensity
Is ardency.
It lends life wings
With which to fly."
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  #130  
Old Wednesday, May 05, 2010
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Default وہ خاک کہ جبريل کي ہے جس سے قبا چاک

فطرت نے نہ بخشا مجھے انديشہ چالاک
رکھتي ہے مگر طاقت پرواز مري خاک

وہ خاک کہ ہے جس کا جنوں صيقل ادراک
وہ خاک کہ جبريل کي ہے جس سے قبا چاک

وہ خاک کہ پروائے نشيمن نہيں رکھتي
چنتي نہيں پہنائے چمن سے خس و خاشاک

اس خاک کو اللہ نے بخشے ہيں وہ آنسو
کرتي ہے چمک جن کي ستاروں کو عرق ناک


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