When That Beniaz Opens

When that Beniaz opens His Graceful Hand

Why should the niazmand be not proud of his humility

You have confined Him to the ‘Arsh, O preacher !

What kind of God would keep away from His people?

In my view he is not a rind at all, O cup-bearer

Who would distinguish between ecstasy and lack of it

Always remain very attentive to the heart, this orchestra is such

If broken, it would produce the music of the Secret

Somebody should ask how it hurts the preacher

If God shows His Grace even to the sinner

O God! From where does poetry acquire its heat?

This is a thing with which even stone would soften

Nightingale’s lament comes from discrimination between tulip and rose

No one in the world should open the discriminating eye

The arrogance of piety has taught the preacher

To use abusive language to the people of God

Such wind should blow from India, O Iqbal

Which would blow me as dust to Hijaz