Fetch wine, for the heavens have turned in our favour. Songs are germinating like buds from the branches.

I drink in remembrance of that holy person who would not drink wine but with his boon companions.

May the tribe increase of that sagacious man who said that the light of hope is a torch on life’s path.

What I sing is too high for my likely listeners. So I sing where no one listens to my singing.

Verse is such a thing as tests the buyer’s judgment. I am glad that no one buys my poetry.

From his pleasing verses it is clear that Iqbal, teacher of philosophy, turned to Love’s vocation.