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Poem: Farman-e-Khuda

September 9, 2014 Leave a comment

Here are select verses from an invigorating poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal. This poem, Farman-e-Khuda (farishton se) — God’s Command (to his angels) — is part of his compilation Bal-e-Jibril (131). His collections can be found here.

The essence of this poem is that if you want to achieve something worth the while, you’ll have to take action, sitting idle won’t help. You’ll have to be bold, you’ll have to persevere in the face of adversity, you’ll have to be focused on what is important and not indulge in frivolous escapades.

The poem has political connotations to it, which makes it much more relevant to the landscape in Pakistan these days. Iqbal once said “Khuda ne aaj tak us qaum ki haalat nahiin badli, na ho jisko khyaal aap apni haalat ke badalne ka!”, which means that God has never changed the destiny of a nation that is not bothered about its fate.

Rahat Fateh Ali Khan sang few verses of the poem. The audio is available below.

Here is the translation of the verses you hear in the audio version. The (Roman) Urdu text precedes the translation.

Utho! Meri dunya ke ghareebon ko jaga do,
Kakh-e-umra ke dar-o-deewar hila do!

Rise, wake the poor of my world from their slumber,
Rattle the mansions of the aristocrats!

Sultani jamhoor ka ata hae zamana,
Jo naqsh-e-kuhan tum ko nazar aae, mita do!

The hour (of democracy) when the common man will rule is near,
Destroy all mention of the past oppressions that you can find!

Garmao ghulamoon ka lahu souz-e-yaqeen se,
Kunjishk-e-firomaya ko shaheen se lara do!

Invigorate the slave-minded folk with the zeal of faith,
Make the fearful sparrow bold enough to face the fearsome falcon!

Kiyun khaliq-o-makhlooq mein hayal rahein parde,
Peeran-e-kalisa ko kalisa se utha do!

Just as there is no veil between man and God,
Banish these mumbling priests from the house of God!

Jis khait se dehqan ko muyassar na ho rozi,
Us khait ke har khosha-e-gandum ko jala do!

If the poor peasants cannot harvest a field for food,
Burn every single wheat stock of such fields!

–Shair-e-Mashriq, Allama Iqbal

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Categories: poetry