To the Holy Prophet

Muhammad Iqbal

[On the night of 3 April 1936, while I was staying in Dar al-Iqbal, Bhopal for rest and treatment]
I saw in a dream Sayyid Ahmad Khan (on whom be God’s mercy). He advised me to place
before the Holy Prophet the state of my health.]

O you who are helper of helpless people like us, free this nation from the fear of death.

You burnt down ancient idols and renewed the old universe.

In this world where men and genii are engaged you are the 'morning prayer' and the 'call to
prayer'.

Lah ilah is the essence of ardour and ecstasy, it sheds light in the dark night of doubts.

We did not make gods of cows and asses, nor did we bow our heads before soothsayers;

we did not prostrate ourselves before ancient gods, nor did we walk in adoration round the
palaces of kings and nobles ;

this is all the result of your benevolence, our thought has been nourished by your kindness.

Our remembrance of you is the source of delight and rapture, and keeps the nation jealous of its
honour even in poverty.

You are the goal of every wayfarer, the ideal that everyone aspires to attain.

We are a defunct musical instrument whose chords do not respond to the plectrum any longer.

I have wandered through lands, Arab and non-Arab, Bu Lahab is everywhere, Mustafa nowhere.

The so-called enlightened Muslim has no lamp to illumine the darkness of his heart.

Even in his youth he is soft like silk, the desires in his heart are short-lived.

He is a slave, son of a slave, son of a slave, who dare not think of freedom; the school has
drained him of love for religion;

all I can say about him is that he existed at one time; forgetful of himself and enamoured of the
West, he begs bread of barley from the hands of the Franks.

This hungry man bartered away his soul for a piece of bread and caused us great grief thereby.

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He picks up grain from the ground like domestic birds and is unaware of the blue expanse of
space.

The teacher, lacking intellectual equipment and insight, did not inform him of his real stature.

The fire of the Franks has melted him: this hell has totally transformed him. He is a believer and
yet unaware of the secret of Death. His heart does not believe in the truth that None is supreme
except Allah.

As his heart has died in his breast, he does not think of anything except food and sleep. For one
piece of bread, he bears the sting of yes and no, for a day’s meal he begs favours from a hundred
persons.

He buys false gods from the Frank, though he is a believer, his mind is an idol-temple. Say: Get
up at my order and quicken, revive in his heart the cry: Allah is He,

We are all under the spell of Western culture, and are martyrs at the altar of the Franks.

From that nation whose cup is now broken, produce a single man who is God-intoxjcated,
“so that the Muslim should learn to see himself again and look upon himself as the cream of the
whole world.” O rider, rein in your horse for a moment; I cannot easily find words to express my
mind.

Should I give expression to my desire or not?

Love is not restrained by etiquette;

Love says: O grieved one, open your lips; etiquette says: Open your eyes and keep your mouth
shut.

The whole universe revolves round you.

I entreat a look of mercy from you.

You are my dhikr and fikr,

my knowledge and gnosis;

you are my boat, river and storm.

Not even a lean, frail and weak deer could anybody tie to my saddle-strap.

My shelter is the sanctuary of your street:

I turn towards you with a hopeful heart.

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No longer am I able to nourish song in the breast and open a hundred buds with a single breath.

My song has broken in my throat; the flame no longer comes out of my breast.

My words have lost their fervour and I have ceased to enjoy my morning recitation of the
Qur’an.

How could songs remain confined within my breast – songs that could hardly be contained in the
mind.

They need a limitless expanse– the whole breadth of nine heavens. Ah! the pain that afflicts my
body and soul, a look from your eyes is my remedy.

These medicines no longer agree with this weak soul of mine: their bitter taste and smell are
unbearable.

My condition cannot be improved by these medicines: at the very sight of them I cry like a child.
I deceive myself by sugar-coating them, the physicians laugh at me in their sleeves.

I seek relief through you as did Busairi,

and pray that old days may come back again.

Your kindness to sinners is great: it is forgiving like a mother’s love.

I am battling against the worshippers of darkness, replenish my lamp with oil.

Your existence lends lustre to the world, do not deny my soul a reflection from it.

“You know that value of the body is due to soul, and the value of the soul is due to the reflection
of the Beloved!”

I have no hope from other-than-God, make of me either a sword or a key.

I am quick in understanding the significance of religion; the seed of action, however, has never
sprouted out of my dust.

Sharpen my axe all the more, for I have a task greater than that of Farhad.

I am a believer and I do not deny myself; test me on the touchstone, you will not find me false
metal.

Although the field of my life has remained barren, yet I possess a tiny thing called “heart”.

I keep it hidden from the eye of the people, for it bears the marks of your horse’s hoof.

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For a slave who does not seek material means life without you is as good as death.

You blessed a Kurd with fluency in the Arabic tongue,

call your slave into your presence – a slave who bears like the tulip a mark on his heart, which
his friends are unaware of, a slave who weeps like a reed, his soul almost burnt through constant
songs.

I am like a half-burnt piece of wood in the desert, the caravan has passed on,

and I am still burning.

In this vast world perhaps another caravan one day appear.

O my lament! Ah me! Ah me!

Notes:

2. “Fear of death.” Iqbal feels that this is the basic malady which destroys the moral strength of
man; it is found when men are oriented towards this world and are unmindful of the next world. To be
truly creative, one must cultivate indifference to death which in any case is inevitable (Pas Chih Bayad
Kard, p. 17):[Every moment (he is) in search of material goods, (his) only preoccupation: anxiety for
livelihood and fear of death.]In another place (Javid Namah, p. 234), he says: [He whose source of
strength was only God, has fallen prey to love of money and fear of death.]

3. “Ancient idols” old social and economic order, old loyalties to others than God.

4. (II. 945-48). It was due to the revolutionary teaching of the Prophet that man was freed from
bondage to other-than God. Asrar-o Rumuz, chapter on “Purpose of Muhammad’s Mission was to Found
Freedom, Equality and Brotherhood among All Mankind” (pp. 119.21):
[Throughout the world worshipped tyrant man,
despised. neglected, insignificant;
Caesar and Chosroe, highwaymen enthroned,
fettered and chained their subjects, hand and foot.
His birth was mortal to the ancient world,
death to the temples of idolatry.]

5. Mustafa, the Chosen One, the Holy Prophet Muhammad (salla lahu alayhi wa’ale hi wasallam). Bu
Lahab, lit. the father of flame, title given by the Qur’an to one of the Prophet’s uncles, who opposed his
mission tooth and nail and, therefore, stands as a symbol of untruth and falsehood in Muslim literature,
opposed to truth: Iqbal often employs this contrast (Bang-i Dara, p. 249):
[There has been a constant strife since eternity,
between Mustafa’s Light and Bu Lahab’s fire.]

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6. For Iqbal’s criticism of modern educational system, see Darb-i Kalim, pp. 77-85.

7. “Arise, qum, qum bi-idhni,” arise by my permission and “qum bi-idhn Allah.” arise by the order of
God, are two expressions said to be uttered by a sufi of Multan. It is related that he came upon the body
of a dead man and said: qum bi-idhn Allah (Arise in the name of God). The dead body, however, showed
no sign of life. He then, in a state of Jadhb, jalal (ecstasy, might) uttered: qum bi-idhni (Arise by my
permission). It is said that the man became alive. Darb-i Kalim, p. 64
[Don’t be grieved that your mind is confused;
it is due to Frankish spell: arise by the order of God.]

8. Iqbal has repeated this idea in several of his books, especially written in the latter part of his life.
See Darb-i Kalim, pp. 40 56, etc. On p. 40, he says that the world needs a true guide whose eyes can
revolutionise the world of thought. In the Javid Namah, pp. 244-45, he advises the new generation to do
its best in seeking the right type of dervish who can help people in transforming the pattern of their life
and the mode of their thought.

9. (Il. 1007-12). These lines refer to the malady from which Iqbal was suffering during the last days
of his life. His vocal chord was badly affected as a result of which he could not sneak and hence was
unable to recite the Qur’an in a loud melodious voice as he used to do.

10. (II. 1020-24). These lines refer to Iqbal’s utter helplessness and disgust at continued illness and
the use of bitter dozes of medicine which is Iqbal put it, are a challenge to man’s fine tastes.

11. Busairi, an Arab poet whose poem in praise of the Prophet is very famous and is known
as Qasidah Burdah. It is related that the poet had an attack of paralysis during which he wrote this
poem. He is said to have recovered miraculously. See Sh. Ataullah, Ed.. op. cit., I, 88, 94.

12. “Lovers of night” (worshippers of darkness) refers to people who stand for untruth,
falsehood, kufr. “To fight the worshippers of night it is necessary to dispel darkness through light. But
the light from his (i.e. Iqbal’s) lamp is very dim due to lack of oil. “Oil” stands for material as well as
spiritual resources.

13. It is related that a Kurd had great love for the Prophet. One day be felt grieved at being
unacquainted with Arabic, the language of his beloved. How could he claim, he thought, to love the
Prophet when he could not speak to him in his own language? Next day he was miraculously granted
knowledge of Arabic.

14. When a caravan stays at some place for the night, people light fire. Burning wood thus
symbolises the presence of a caravan. Next day when the caravan moves away, the burning wood
reminds other people coming after-wards that some caravan had camped there.

http://www.rasulallah.info/id58.html

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Love of Sayyidina Muhammad

Muhammad Iqbal

In the Muslim’s heart is the name of Muhammed (salla lahu alayhi wa’ale hi wasallam),

All our glory is from the name of Muhammed (salla lahu alayhi wa’ale hi wasallam).

He slept on a mat of rushes, (stems of plants)

But the crown of Chrosreos (alludes to the defeat of Persian Emperor by Muslims) was under his
followers’ feet.

He chose the nightly solitude of Mount Hira,

And he founded a nation, laws and government.

He passed many a night with sleepless eyes,

In order that the Muslims might sleep on Chrosroes’ throne.

In the hours of prayer, tears fell like rain from his eyes.

When he prayed for Divine help, his sword answered “Amen,”

And extirpated the race of kings.

He instituted a new Law in the world,

He brought the empire of antiquity to an end.

With the key of religion he opened the door of this world,

The womb of the world never bore his like,

In his sight high and low were one,

He sat with his slave on one table.

The daughter of the chieftain of Tai was taken prisoner in battle,

And brought into that exalted presence;

Her feet in chains, her face unveiled,

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And her neck bowed with shame.

When the Prophet (saw) saw that the poor girl had no veil,

He covered her face with his own mantle.

He opened the gates of mercy to his enemies,

He gave to Makkah the message; “There’s no blame on you today.”

He burnt clean the distinctions of birth and race,

His fire consumed this trash and rubble.

The song of love for him fills my silent reed,

A hundred notes throb in my bosom.

A Mountain and a Squirrel

A mountain was saying this to a squirrel

'Commit suicide if you have self-respect

You are insignificant, still so arrogant, how strange!

You are neither wise, nor intelligent! not even shrewd!

It is strange when the insignificant pose as important!

When the stupid ones like you pose as intelligent!

You are no match in comparison with my splendor

Even the earth is low compared with my splendor

The grandeur of mine does not fall to your lot

The poor animal cannot equal the great mountain! '

On hearing this the squirrel said, 'Hold your tongue!

These are immature thoughts, expel them from your heart!

I do not care if I am not large like you!

You are not a pretty little thing like me

Everything shows the Omni-potence of God

Some large, some small, is the wisdom of God

He has created you large in the world

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And He has taught me climbing large trees

You are unable to walk a single step

Only large size! What other greatness have you?

If you are large show me some of the skills I have

Show me how you break this beetle nut as I can

Nothing is useless in this world

Nothing is bad in God's creation

The Decline of Muslims

Though wealth and gold provide

The worldly needs of man:
But what Faqr can bestow
No wealth or gold e'er can.

If youth of nation mine

Were jealous of their creed,
MY Qalandar's state Won't mind
Alexander's might indeed.

With ease you can divine

To something else is due:
Penury cannot cause
Decline of Moslems True.

Wealth has played no part

To bring my worth to light:
My Faqr this spell has cast
The share of wealth is slight

"Zarb e Kaleem"

A Mother’s Dream

As I slept one night I saw this dream

Which further increased my vexation

I dreamt I was going somewhere on the way

Dark it was and impossible to find the way

Trembling all over with fear I was

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Difficult to take even a step with fear was

With some courage as I forward moved

I saw some boys as lined in nice array

Dressed in emerald-like raiment they were

Carrying lighted lamps in their hands they were

They were going quietly behind each other

No one knew where they were to go

Involved in this thought was I

When in this troupe my son saw I

He was walking at the back, and was not walking fast

The lamp he had in his hand was not lighted

Recognizing him I said "O My dear!

Where have you come leaving me there?

Restless due to separation I am

Weeping every day for ever I am

You did not care even a little for me

What loyalty you showed, you left me"!

As the child saw the distress in me

He replied thus, turning around to me

"The separation from me makes you cry

Not least little good does this to me"

He remained quiet for a while after talking

Showing me the lamp then he started talking

"Do you understand what happened to this?

Your tears have extinguished this"!

The Morning Sun

Far from the ignoble strife of Man's tavern you are

The wine-cup adorning the sky's assemblage you are

The jewel which should be the pearl of the morning's bride's ear you are

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The ornament which would be the pride of horizon's forehead you are

The blot of night's ink from time's page has been removed!
The star from sky like a spurious picture has been removed!

When from the roof of the sky your beauty appears

Effect of sleep's wine suddenly from eyes disappears

Perception's expanse gets filled with light

Though opens only the material eye your light

The spectacle which the eyes seek is desired

The effulgence which would open the insight is desired

The desires for freedom were not fulfilled in this life

We remained imprisoned in chains of dependence all life

The high and the low are alike for your eye
I too have longing for such a discerning eye

May my eye shedding tears in sympathy for others' woes be!

May my heart free from the prejudice of nation and customs be!

May my tongue be not bound with discrimination of color

May mankind be my nation, the whole world my country be

May secret of Nature's organization clear to my insight be

May smoke of my imagination's candle rising to the sky be

May search for secrets of opposites not make me restless!

May the Love-creating Beauty in everything appear to me!

If the rose petals get damaged by the breeze

May its pain dropping from my eye as a tear be

May the heart contain that little spark of Love's fire

The light of which may contain the secret of the Truth

May my heart not mine but the Beloved's mirror be!

May no thought in my mind except human sympathy be!

If you cannot endure the hardships of the tumultuous world

O the Great Luminary that is not the mark of greatness!

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As you are not aware of your world-decorating beauty
You cannot be equal to a speck of dust at the Man's door!

The light of Man eager for the Spectacle ever remained

And you obligated to the tomorrow's morning ever remained

Longing for the Light of the Truth is only in our hearts

Abode of Lailah of desire for search is only in this litter

Opening of the difficult knot, Oh what a pleasure it is!

The pleasure of universal gain in our endless effort is!

Your bosom is unacquainted with the pain of investigation

You are not familiar with searching of the secrets of Nature

THE TOMB-STONE OF SAIYYID

O you whose life is confined in the material world

O you whose soul is imprisoned in the cage

Look at the freedom of this garden's warblers

Look at the prosperity of those once desolate

This is the congregation with which I was concerned

This is the reward of patience and perseverance

My tomb-stone is ardently desirous of speech, look !

At this tomb-stone's inscription with insight look !

If your aim in the world is din's education

Never teach your nation world's abdication

Do not use your tongue for sectarianism

Resurrection Day's tumult for booty is stalking

Your writings should pave the way for unity

Beware! No heart should be hurt by your speech

In the new congregation do not start old tales

Do not start again what are now unacceptable tales

Listen to my advice if you are any statesman

Courage is your support if you are a leader of men

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Hesitation in expressing your purpose does not behoove you
If your intentions are good you should not fear anything

The Mu’min's heart is clear of fear and hypocrisy

The Mu’min's heart is fearless against the ruler's power

If your hands do hold the miraculous pen

If your heart's cup is clear like the cup of Jam

You are a Divine pupil! Keep your tongue immaculate!

Beware, Lest your prayer's call remains unanswered!

With the miracle of your verse awaken those sleeping

Burn down falsehood's produce with the flame of your call

Western Culture (Maghrabi Tehzeeb)

the culture that prevails in west,

corrupts the heart and gaze of man :
its Soul is full of stains and spots
that at leisure one can scan

if soul of man becomes defiled

of conscience clean it gets bereft :
It soon forgets high aims and ends,
no taste refined in it is left.

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