To this poor man of town pay special heed, who craves great ferments for thy bosom’s feed.

My woeful tone thus, a great wealth to soul, a woeful heart’s wealth, not a common dole.

I have a right grievance on world’s taste blind, who took my love’s labour of Farhad’s kind.

On stone the axe sound, totally apart! Listen! That was sound of axe and the heart! (Note the great depth of thought in this Persian couplet of Mirza Mazhar Jan Janan of Delhi which Iqbal has quoted here. With this axe Farhad wanted to dig a canal from a mountain of Persia to win his lady love who was a Princess of that land. In that labour (of love) his whole blood of heart and soul is involved.)