The Heart and Soul of Iqbal


The Eagle

I have turned away from that place on earth, Where sustenance is the name of grain and water

The solitude of the wilderness would please me rather, For my nature since the beginning of time has been a hermit

There, neither the breeze of spring, nor that hand that plucks flower, nor melodious nightingale, And nor the pain of the songs of the lover would affect me

It was necessary for me to shun the dwellers of garden, As they have only their seductive charms!

The wind of the desert shall always empower, The stroke of the youth that leads to victory

I am not hungry for the pigeon nor the dove, For renunciation is the mark of the eagle’s life

To swoop, withdraw, and to swoop again, Is only a pretext to keep the blood warm.

East and West- these belong to the world of the pheasant, While the blue sky-vast and boundless-is mine!

I am the dervish of the kingdom of birds-For you have seen the eagle does not build a nest