Alas! These men of church and mosque are known,
To do their best to make the soul benighted.
It is faith, and faith alone, that gives the power—
The power of the dervish, that conquers kings.
My soul’s yearning takes a thousand forms:
Wonder, and ecstasy, and plaints at dawn.
Heavenly love is beyond the pale of reason;
The pain of being estranged is the heart’s death.
His pride in Beauty makes Him show Himself,
But my eyes’ vision is the hindering veil.
The logic of destiny is beyond our ken;
As the losing Turks were no worse than the Ottomans.
How was Iqbal captured by the Holy Land fakirs?
This ethereal eagle has escaped even kings.