na taḳht-o-tājmeñ ne lashkar-o-sipāhmeñhai
jo baatmard-e-qalandar kībārgāhmeñhai
A monarch’s pomp and mighty arms can never give such glee,
As can be felt in presence of a Qalandar bold and free.
sanam-kadahaijahāñ aur mard-e-haqhaiḳhalīl
ye nuktavohai ki poshīdalā-ilāhmeñhai
The world is like an idol house, God’s Friend, a person free:
No doubt, this subtle point is hid In words, No god but He.
vahījahāñhaitirājis ko tūkarepaidā
ye sañg-o-ḳhishtnahīñ jo tirīnigāhmeñhai
The world that you with effort make to you belongs alone:
The world of brick and stone you see, You cannot call your own.
mah o sitāra se aagemaqāmhaijiskā
vomusht-e-ḳhākabhīāvārgān-e-rāhmeñhai
The clay‐made man is still among the vagrants on the road,
Though man beyond the moon and stars can find his true abode.
ḳhabarmilīhaiḳhudāyān-e-bahr-o-bar se mujhe
farañgrahguzar-e-sail-e-be-panāhmeñhai
This news I have received from those who rule the sea and land,
That Europe lies on course of flood ’Gainst which no one can stand.
talāsh us kīfazāoñmeñkarnasībapnā
jahān-e-tāzamirīāh-e-sub.h-gāhmeñhai
A world there is quite fresh and new in sighs at morn I have:
Your portion seek within its tracts, Thus goal and aim achieve.
mire kadū ko ġhanīmatsamajh ki bāda-e-nāb
na madrasemeñhaibaaqī na ḳhānqāhmeñhai
Count my gourd an immense gain, for pure and sparkling wine
No more the seats of learning store nor sells the Sacred Shrine.
Bal-e-Jibril-069
fitrat ne na baḳhshāmujheandesha-e-chālāk
rakhtīhaimagartāqat-e-parvāzmirīḳhaak
On me no subtle brain though Nature spent,
My dust hides strength to dare the high ascent—
voḳhaak ki haijiskājunūñsaiqal-e-idrāk
voḳhaak ki jibrīlkīhaijis se qabāchaak
That frantic dust whose eye outranges reason,
Dust by whose madness Gabriel’s rose is rent;
voḳhaak ki parvā-e-nashemannahīñrakhtī
chuntīnahīñpahnā-e-chaman se ḳhas o ḳhāshāk
That will not creep about its garden gathering
Straw for a nest—un‐housed and yet content.
is ḳhaak ko Allāhne baḳhshehaiñvoaañsū
kartīhaichamakjinkīsitāroñ ko araq-nāk
And Allah to this dust a gift of tears
Whose brightness shames the constellations, lent.
(Source: https://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com)