To Arab* poets sweet on my part say’ I shun to versify on red lips gay. From a beam I had of Holy Book’s light; after hundred years nights I see a dawn bright. * Iqbal is advising Arab poets to give up love poetry (ode) of beautiful women as he was seeing a change to good after one hundred thirty years continuous decline of Arab world.

I caused in his soul a verve* a heat; to cottage or castle** a dust I treat. This brook may once vie a noisy sea’s*** pride; as I gave this brook**** a passion of tide. * Here it means verve for the love of the Prophet (S.A.W.) and the good people. **Cottage or castle means every place of world. ***Noisy sea means big powers of the world. ****Abjoo; brook; here it means a small nation, as compared with sea or a big power.

You leave making now the portraits on wall; be friendly with conscience and Ego’s call. Since you got growth in my nation’s lawn; fill your song’s flame in their brain and brawn.* * In the above twin couplets Iqbal is addressing the Arab poets and then to the Arab youth not to hang portraits of film stars and other beauties on their walls.

My heart has a grief*, and dust has a heart; yet this old branch claims His moist’s great part. With thy skill’s magic cause a fount so; in each Muslim lies a fountain lo! Grief: It means love of the Prophet S.A.W.

Of virtues of God Muslim has a part; like secrets of God a secret is heart. I saw not his beauty save of God’s own; in the cosmos conscience his roots are grown.

Give to his dust that flame and might; which brings into being a sun from night. Hit a tune and tone due to whose grace; he gets a new verve from world’s new face.

A Muslim you were named for grief’s bargain; to be restive for friends in pains and strains. He cares not for hlmself in nation’s cause; he shouts ‘I am Ummah from every clause.’

On whom were opened the secrets of soul;* with his own eyes** he sees the cosmos whole. Make in thy heart his love’s cosy room; and turn the autumn to vernal bloom. * Soul means self. ** Not through others point of view.

So guard the nature of thy mud and dust; a bliss, trance and burning for thee is must I see empty bowls of the nation’s whole; a lasting wine lasts in thy heart’s own bowl.

The hill and desert night* defies thy day; the birds and waves know not their old songs gay. This world wont lit up from the hermit’s lamp; Thy sun light is needed in every camp. * This is an illusion to godless men.

Read the clear writing on thy forehead’s slate; find out a way to change thy future fate. Like me find a way on the Harem’s land; to know thy worth true, thy own grit and sand.