Contrary runs our planet, the stars whirl fast,
oh Saki!
In every atom’s heartbeat a Doomsday blast,
oh Saki!
Torn from God’s congregation its dower of
faith and reason,
And godlessness in fatal allurement dressed,
oh Saki!
For our inveterate sickness, our wavering
heart, the cure—
That same joy‐dropping nectar as in the past,
oh Saki.
Within Islam’s cold temple no fire of longing
stirs,
For still your face is hidden, veiled and unguessed,
oh Saki.
Unchanged is Persia’s garden: soil, stream,
Tabriz, unchanged;
And yet with no new Rumi is her land graced,
oh Saki.
But of his barren acres Iqbal will not despair:
A little rain, and harvests shall wave at last,
oh Saki!
On me, a beggar, secrets of empire are
bestowed;
My songs are worth the treasures Parvez
amassed, oh Saki.
[Translated by V.G. Kiernan]
*
Due to Thy benevolence, I am not without
merit,
However, I am not a slave to a Tughral or a
Sanjar;
It is my nature to see the world as it is;
252 Collected Poetical Works of Iqbal
But, in no case, am I the Cup of any Jamshid!
[Translated by A. Anwar Beg]