021

Sleeper, rise thou up, and fast! Once again upon the past And the future fix thy gaze; Thou must think on other ways.

Love hath laid his heavy load On Time’s saddle to the road: Art thou lover? In thy need Eve and dawn must be thy steed.

Elder said, “This world below In no certain gait doth go; We must close our eyes, nor care What is foul herein, or fair.

“If, the world being wholly spurned, Unto Him thy mind is turned, First of all the things to do Is thy own life to forgo.”

“Ah, within my heart”, said I, “Yet unbroken idols lie”: “Then this temple”, answered he, “Must be shattered utterly!”

022

My mind awhile was gone About the heavens to pace, High on the back of the moon, Fast in the stars’ embrace.

Think not we are enfurled Within this globe of clay; Each separate star’s a world, Or was a world one day.

The lowly emmet sees In vision clear and true A thousand mysteries Which we lack sight to view.

Earth on her back doth bear A many mountain tall; We, for the dust we were Lay heaviest of all.

The panting tulip sighed; How deeply, well I know; Her cup with blood is dyed, Her heart’s a brand aglow.

023

A melody swept me through and through And nobody knew; The air and the note is all they know. The high and low.

Love in my heart was made to chime With thought sublime; Not like the moon I wax and wane; I never attain.

Weep no more, but with brave heart take Disunion’s ache; Love, till it sigheth, scarce can guess Its attractiveness.

Be thou a torch, and set afire The bush and briar; Men of clay have no right to be In life’s sanctuary.

A falcon thou art; yield not thy soul To domestic fowl; Rise, spread thy wing and pinion, and soar Both high and far.

The poet’s a glow that giveth light In life’s dark night; A radiance shines in his wings anon, And sometimes none.

Iqbal in his song his self has bared And truth declared; This new unbeliever knoweth naught Of cloister rote.

024

No Jamshid’s memory, the wine That floweth in this inn of mine, It is the pressing of my soul That sparkleth in my Persian bowl.

Man like a billow quivereth In eager quest of Being’s breath, While yet his arrow lies encased About annihilation’s waist.

Come, let us shatter (for we can) Like Abraham this talisman; Within the temple, idols be Whatever I have seen, but thee.

Until thou deeply enterest The very heart in Being’s breast, To leave the gaze to speculate Is wickedness, and sin most great.

To wander idly, without guide, Peculiar pleasure is, beside; Happy am I, that our abode Is far, and ever winds the road.

The casual glance, that gave to me The leave to wander, and to see, ’Twas better far, that casual glance, Than rapt attention to my chance.

Though I was nourished all my days Where infidel to idol prays, Behold, my opened lips impart The secret of the Ka‘bah’s heart.

025

I am a blossom of the plain; Carry me back from the avenue To mountain and wilderness again Where air’s to breathe, and the vast to view.

Far from self I have gone astray, Learnt me the foxy and furtive wont; Carry me, helpers of the way, Back to the reeds, my ancient haunt.

Once I had a word in my heart; Now it has vanished from my breast; Though I am old, let me depart Back to the school that taught me best.

I am a hushed and silent lute; Now in my head is a new, sweet air; O let my strings be no longer mute, Take me to him whom will repair.

In this night that enshroudeth me Sufficient sun is my ancient brand; Take away from my dormitory The shuttered lamp that is in thy hand.

Lo, to the slaves I have declareed True kingship’s innermost mystery; I am a slave who greatly erred; To the king for judgement O carry me!