Allama Muhammad Iqbal

[Shair-e-Mushriq] (9 November 1877 - 21 April 1938 / Sialkot / British India)

Allama Muhammad Iqbal Poems

1. The Sun 7/31/2012
2. The Cloud On The Mountain 7/31/2012
3. The Tomb-Stone Of Saiyyid 7/31/2012
4. The Crescent 7/31/2012
5. The Morning Sun 7/31/2012
6. The Interrogatio 7/31/2012
7. The Colorful Rose 7/31/2012
8. The Himalayas 7/31/2012
9. The Painful Wail 7/31/2012
10. The Withered Rose 7/31/2012
11. The One I Was Searching For On The Earth And In Heaven 8/2/2012
12. The Intellect And The Heart 7/31/2012
13. The Candle 7/31/2012
14. The Candle And The Moth 7/31/2012
15. The Bird's Complaint 7/31/2012
16. Sympathy 7/31/2012
17. The Age Of Infancy 7/31/2012
18. The Mosque Of Cordoba 3/16/2012
19. Mirza Ghalib 7/31/2012
20. Jawab-E-Shik 7/31/2012
21. Said The Coal To A Diamond 7/31/2012
22. First Date Tree Saeeded By Abdul Rahman The Firs 3/16/2012
23. Mu'Tamid's Lament In Prison 3/16/2012
24. Spain 3/16/2012
25. Pathos Of Love 7/31/2012
26. Age Of Infancy 7/31/2012
27. A Cow And A Goat 7/31/2012
28. Bachaey Ki Duaa 7/31/2012
29. A Mother's Dream 7/31/2012
30. Taraana-E-Milli 7/31/2012
31. Shikwaa 7/31/2012
32. A Prayer 3/16/2012
33. A Mountain And A Squirrel 7/31/2012
34. A Spider And A Fly 7/31/2012
35. A Longing 7/31/2012
36. Madness Of Love Is No More 1/1/2004
37. Ahead Of The Stars 1/1/2004
38. I Desire 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Allama Muhammad Iqbal

I Desire

I want to have the extremes of your Love,
See, how silly am I, wishing for unachievable.

I don't care if you maltreat me or promise to unveil your beauty,
I just want something unbearable to test my fortitude

Let the God fearing people be dwelling in the paradise,
For, instead I want to be face to face with you.
(I don't want to go to paradise but want to observe the Divine Beauty)

O fellows, I am here for a few moments, as a gust,
Like morning star I will fade and vanish in a few moments.

I disclosed the secret in public,
I need to be punished ...

Read the full of I Desire

Spain

Spain! You are the trustee of the Muslim
blood:
In my eyes you are sanctified like the Harem.
Prints of prostration lie hidden in your dust,
Silent calls to prayers in your morning air.
In your hills and vales were the tents of those,
The tips of whose lances were bright like the
stars.
Is more henna needed by your pretties?

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