The spring breeze is flowing again start singing, O Iqbal; if you are a bud be the flower, if a flower the garden become.

You are a handful of dust, with the warmth of the components wander around, scatter about and wilderness in extent become.

You belong to the essence of Love; you are invaluable; the purchasers are indigent, low priced in this country become.

Why should your tunes be veiled in the guitar’s frets? You are an ornamented song, evident to every ear become.

O wise traveler! If in your path you encounter the garden become dew, if wilderness the storm become.

Indulgence is concealed in the love of opulence; if you aim at the destination, destroyer of opulence become.