mirīnavā se hue zindaaarif o aamī
diyāhaimaiñ ne unheñzauq-e-ātishāshāmī
The Gnostic and the common throng new life have gained through my song:
I have conferred relish fine on them for Loveʹs fiery wine.
haram kepaaskoīaajmīhaizamzama-sanj
ki taartaar hue jaamahaa.eehrāmī
Some Ajami near the Holy Shrine did sadly sing this song and pine,
“Alas! the robes by pilgrims worn to threads and pieces now are torn.”
haqīqat-e-abadīhaimaqām-e-shabbīrī
badalterahtehaiñandāz-e-kūfī o shāmī
The place of Husain (R.A.), the Martyr great is fact, not bound to Space or Date,
Though the Syrians and the Kufis may often change their wont and way.
mujhe ye Dar haimuqāmirhaiñpuḳhta-kār bahut
na rañglaa.ekahīñterehaathkīḳhāmī
The gamblers who with you compete are deft of band and they can cheat:
Your fumbling shaky hands, I fear, May bring about your ruin so drear.
ajabnahīñ ki musalmāñ ko phiratākardeñ
shikva-e-sanjar o faqr-e-juned o bastāmī
No wonder If the Muslims gain Their ancient glory once again–
Sanjarʹs splendour pomp and state, The piety and faqr of mystics great.
qabā-e-ilm o hunarlutf-e-ḳhāshai varna
tirīnigāhmeñthīmerīnā-ḳhushandāmī
The robe of art and lore I wear is through Your special bounty there:
You know my coarse and homely frame, To honour great I have no claim.
Bal-e-Jibril-075
harikmaqām se aageguzargayāmah-e-nau
kamālkis ko mayassarhuāhai be-tag-o-dau
Through many a stage the crescent goes and then at last full moon it grows:
Perfection no one can attain, save by dint of strife and strain.
nafaskezor se voġhunchavāhuābhī to kyā
jisenasībnahīñāftābkāpartav
The bud that gets no share of light from the sun that shines so bright,
And opens through its inner urge is bereft of life’s full surge.
nigāhpaakhaiterī to paakhaidilbhī
ki dil ko haq ne kiyāhainigāhkāpairav
If your gaze of sins be free, Then chaste and pure your heart shall be,
For God the Mighty has decreed that heart shall follow and gaze shall lead.
panapsakā na ḳhayābāñmeñlāla-e-dil-soz
ki sāzgārnahīñ ye jahān-e-gandum-o-jau
The tulip red with heart afire in avenue could not thrive and spire,
As this world of corn and wheat for tulip wild could not be meet.
rahe na ‘aibak’ o ‘ġhaurī’kemārkebaaqī
hameshataaza o shīrīñhainaġhma-e-’ḳhusrau’
Great wars by Aibak and Ghauri fought by the world are all forgot;
But the lays of Khusrau still our hearts with joy and pleasure fill.
(Source: https://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com)