na hotuġhyān-e-mushtāqī to maiñrahtānahīñbaaqī
ki merīzindagīkyāhaiyahītuġhyān-e-mushtāqī
Devoid of passion’s roar I can exist no more:
What else can be this life but passion strong and strife?
mujhefitratnavā par pai-ba-pai majbūrkartīhai
abhīmahfilmeñhaishāyadkoīdard-āshnābaaqī
My essence endlessly Impels my minstrelsy:
Some may in throng be still, Who feels for others’ ill.
voātishaajbhīterānashemanphūñksaktīhai
talab sādiq na hoterī to phirkyāshikva-e-sāqī
Love’s flame can still set fire to lodge and goods entire:
If thirst be not aflame, Wherefore the saki blame?
na karafrañgkāandāza us kītābnākī se
ki bijlīkecharāġhoñ se hai is jauharkībarrāqī
Your judgment of the West on glamour must not rest:
Its essence seems so bright by means of electric light.
diloñmeñvalvaleāfāq-gīrīkenahīñuThte
nigāhoñmeñ agar paidā na hoandāz-e-āfāqī
The thoughts of world conquest can never shape in breast,
If blessed not be your gaze with world‐wide wont and ways.
ḳhizāñmeñbhīkab aa saktāthāmaiñsayyādkīzadmeñ
mirīġhammāzthīshāḳh-e-nashemankīkamaurāqī
I, even in winter drear, fell not in hunter’s snare:
My nest’s branches bare drew the hunter’s stare.
ulaTjā.eñgītadbīreñbadaljā.eñgītaqdīreñ
haqīqathainahīñ mere taḳhayyulkīhaiḳhallāqī
Their plans shall end in smoke, Miscarry the destined stroke:
This fact with truth is fraught, No fiction of my thought.
Bal-e-Jibril-057
fitrat ko ḳhiradkerū-ba-rūkar
tasḳhīr-e-maqām-e-rañg-o-būkar
Nature before your mind present,
Subdue this world of hue and scent.
tūapnīḳhudī ko khochukāhai
khoīhuīshaikījustujūkar
Of Selfhood you appear bereft,
To find the thing lost go on quest.
tāroñkīfazāhai be-karāna
tūbhī ye maqām-e-ārzūkar
The stars do shine in boundless space,
Desire to get this lofty place.
uryāñhaiñ tire chamankīhūreñ
chāk-e-gul-o-lāla ko rafūkar
Disrobed the houris of your mead,
The rose and tulip darning need.
be-zauqnahīñagarchefitrat
jo us se na hosakāvotūkar
Of urge, though Nature not deplete,
Yet where it fails you must complete.
(Source: https://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com)