A Few Words With Arab Nation
بخش 12 - حرفی چند با امت عربیه
Poet: Allama Iqbal
Metre: فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مسدس محذوف یا وزن مثنوی)
Poetic form: Masnavi
Toggle stanza 1ای در و دشت تو باقی تا ابد
O you whose valleys and deserts shall remain forever —
Who struck the cry, "Neither Caesar nor Khosrow"?
In this world of time and space —
Who were the first to recite the Holy Quran?
To whom was the secret of "La ilaha" taught?
Where was this lamp first lit?
From whose table are these scraps of knowledge and wisdom?
In whose honor was the verse "So you became brothers" revealed?
From the life-bestowing breath of that Unlettered Prophet (pbuh) —
Tulips bloomed in the sands of the Arab desert.
Freedom was nurtured in the lap of that Exalted Being (pbuh) —
The present of nations is indebted to his past era.
He placed a heart within the body of Adam —
He lifted the veil from Adam's radiant face.
He shattered every ancient idol —
And from every old branch, buds blossomed through his moisture alone.
The heat of the tumult of Badr and Hunayn —
(The advent of) Haider, Siddiq, Farooq, and Hussain.
Whether the awe and majesty of the call to prayer on the battlefield —
Or the recitation of Surah As-Saffat during war.
Whether the Ayyubi sword or the gaze of Bayazid —
These are the keys to the treasures of two worlds.
To intoxicate both intellect and heart with a single cup of wine —
A blend of Rumi's remembrance and Razi's thought.
Also knowledge and wisdom, Sharia and faith, the administration of affairs —
And the restlessness of hearts within the breast.
The world-consuming beauty of Alhambra and the Taj Mahal —
Which receives tribute even from the angels.
All this is but a single moment from the times of the Prophet (pbuh) —
And but one ray from his manifestations.
His exterior implies these heart-kindling splendors —
His interior remains hidden even from the gnostics.
Boundless praise be to the Pure Prophet (pbuh) —
He who granted faith to a handful of dust.
Toggle stanza 2حق ترا بران تر از شمشیر کرد
(O Arab Nation!) God made you sharper than a sword —
He made the camel-drivers the riders of destiny.
The cry of Takbir, prayer, jihad, and combat —
Through this very tumult, the affairs of East and West were resolved.
How blessed was your dedication and selfless devotion then —
And how tragic is your present gloom and melancholy.
Other nations carried their work forward —
You did not know the worth of your own desert.
You were once a single nation, now divided into many —
You have broken up your society yourself.
Whoever broke the bond of the Khudi, embraced death —
Whoever merged with strangers, lost his own identity.
What you have done to yourselves, no one else has done —
Your conduct has pained the pure soul of the Chosen One (pbuh).
(O Arab Nation!) You who are unaware of the Frankish magic —
Try to see the mischief hidden up his sleeve.
If you wish to escape his deception —
Drive his camels away from your ponds.
His schemes and tricks have rendered every nation helpless —
He has divided the unity of the Arabs into a hundred pieces.
Ever since the Arab was caught in his snare —
The sky has not allowed them to sit in peace for a single moment.
O possessor of insight! Look at your era and understand!
Create the spirit of Umar once again within your body!
Power lies in the unity of the true religion —
Religion is strong will, sincerity and faith.
As his heart knows the secrets of Nature —
The man of the desert is the guardian of Nature.
He is simple, his nature is the touchstone of right and wrong —
His rise means setting of a hundred thousand stars.
Pass beyond the deserts, the valleys, the mountains and meadows —
And pitch your tent within your own being.
Creating sharpness in your nature from the desert wind —
Cast the dromedary into the battlefield.
The modern age is born from your past days —
The intoxication of its new sciences is due to your red wine.
You were the one who interpreted its secrets —
You were the first to construct the building of these sciences.
But since the West took these sciences into its adoption —
They became like a beauty devoid of honor and shame.
Although she is very sweet and luscious —
But she walks crookedly, is insolent, and without faith.
O dweller of the desert! Make what is unripe mature —
And refashion the world according to your touchstone.
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