Gift from Hijaz

Armaghan-i-Hijaz (Urdu: ارمغان حجاز‎; or Gift from Hijaz; published in Persian, 1938) was a philosophical poetry book of Allama Iqbal, the great poet-philosopher of Islam.

Introduction

This work, published a few months after the poet's death, is a fairly small volume containing verses in both Persian and Urdu. It is incomplete, although this is not readily apparent to the reader; for Iqbal left some gaps in the book which he intended to fill when he made the pilgrimage to Mecca. The title means "Gift from the Hijaz." He had long wished to undertake the journey to the Arabian Peninsula to perform the Hajj and to visit the tomb of Muhammad, but was prevented from doing so by continuous illness during the last years of his life. Iqbal began composing the Armaghan as a gift to take to the Hijaz, intending to publish it on his return to India as a "Gift from the Hijaz" to his countrymen.

In this, his last work, we find the poet more withdrawn and introspective than previously. The poems are shorter and more personal. The impression left is that the author is taking a last look at the world around him before leaving it behind. The themes are largely the familiar ones, but the treatment is as fresh, forceful and delicate as ever. Iqbal's outspokenness, even when addressing God, in criticizing human evils and in his hatred of injustice and oppression and his devotion to Muhammad and his companions, all remain undiminished. As a summing-up of the ideas and feelings of a great thinker, the Armaghan merits a special place among the literary classics of the twentieth century.

It is divided into two parts, the first containing Persian, the second Urdu poems. The Persian verses, all in ruba'i form, are divided into five groups and presents God the Truth, Muhammad, the Muslim nation, Mankind and the "Companions on the Path to God."

The second part comprises Urdu poems composed between 1935 and the time of his death and include a poem describing the ideological confusion of the poet's time and its impact on Muslims.

In this work, Iqbal touches on practically every question with which he had been preoccupied during his life of intellectual striving and literary achievement. The poems which comprise this final work give the impression that the writer has at last found the tranquility he had for so long sought:

The song that has gone may come again - or may not.

A fresh breeze may come from Hijaz - or may not.

The days of this poor humble man are ended;

Another knower of secrets may come - or may not. ^[1]

Topics

Preface HAZOOR-I-HAQ I They held the loveless is heart and went away My being and non-being were topics on tips My heart rakes often knots of 'how' and 'why' What a noisy display of mud and clay Who brought the wide world on the cosmos scene II My heart not prisoned is writhing with pain O Amrine, thou hast turn'd the cup of wine The self writhing hearts are captives of lures I tread a path there which leads no where Keep off my wine from shallow hearted meeks Thou hast no quest in thy efforts and zeals Bid me shake the world with a cry and hue A gloom still lurking in broad day light Thy slave I'm and seek thy pleasure alone III My heart knows not the bliss of His flame How to tell tale of 'Deen' and father land A Muslim tied up with a foreign land I wish not this world nor cosmos whole What ye hopes from an easy going bloke IV I seek for that nation a rising field How long shall you gaze with a wrathful stare? That bliss of the past may come or not If so e'er comes that gifted mystic sage My heart is wealth mine who knows pang's pine V To lose heart to some one he did not know My heart so restive is fleeing from me I donned big circles on a likewise night Knows not the Gabriel this hue and cry The sky seldom sees alike this age VI Get me Seenay's truth, and love of his name VII A Muslim gloats in hunger and patches A nation again whom duty is dear A nation again whose hearts would adorn VIII Thy world is ruled by misers few A hungry seeker begged his Sheikh to plead IX Looking in a mess is Indian State From bondage a Moslem is a self sold guy X So calculate once all the losses and gains What is the lasting life is known to thee XI When the old world gets its apex of height My body is tired but soul still flies HAZOOR-I-RISALAT I O, tent chamberlain! leave the tent hark I keep my eyes penchant on hearts essence I know not who dazzled and killed this heart Ask not of lustre drunk's caravan scene I cherish for Yasrib though I am old II To love'an rapture sins gave a common sense You ask the spots where I played my jazz there III That dawn I asked naqah not to run quick She needs no reins O I teamster hence! Yet tears moist vivid in jet black eyes IV How lucky are deserts caravan lines Hail the desert whose eve is morning gay V Who's that Ajmi as head of caravan A place in love and raptures was his aim VI A hidden grief untold is clear In pits grow poppies from vernal tide VII A page of Iraqi sometimes I turn Let the hiker's grief take a blissful turn VIII Come O! chum for a tie to weep and cry To wise he gave less wealth and affluence The world with four sides I have in arm-pit In this valley lies a lasting life new IX A Muslim was a king and saint so high The heart takes heat from thy love pangs' flame No morn yet to slaves O Indian night As such I say to a. soft-hearted soul A friend's hidden life how can I reveal The sky still going on a perverse course In his pure blood shines not that vigour and heat He made his heart captive of pomp and show To him the heart's door is not open yet X His collar is torn, he cares no darn Give him his dues, of a captive and meek Refine his morals and life once more The bride of life, in him is not his own His eyes are void of a glamour and glee Though born as Muslim yet knows not the death XI The kingship as whole is trick and skill A Muslim's stuff has a lifelong stay Ashamed is Muslim for losing his State Ask me not of his present day lot I have scanned the whole world through his eye The Muslims have raised no armament wings The assets of Sheikh were the fables old He brought a total change in faithless world From fane gets Harem its grandeur and glare As long in mosque the poor kept a row The Moslems are fighting with brothers own To others than God we touch our brows In the hands of drinkers the empty glass The synagogues bottles are void of wine The Muslims are foreigns on every land With wings you gave I judge and fly At night before Lord I often cry I speak not now of the grandeur past The guard of Harem is the mason of fane From this poor man's flame, sitting on his way Like gallants I fall and rise again Let me sob and sigh in a lone retreat I fly in the airy lovelier space Of secret I'told, they paid no heed To stick it to bosom this verse aims not You bid me for a theme on bliss lifelong My face looks saffron from arcane pain The meek utter hence of yonder glance Those who knew not I preached them ego What I hold in heart is grief and remorse A poor, ruthfull flutist who taught love's tone I seek not my vigour from morning air I'am in a sea which has no coast side Drive not from door who are longing for thee On idols white my heart is sweet From Western taverns the wines I take I seek from thy door, whatever I seek With 'mullah' or 'Sufi' I do not sit The 'mullah' never knows the pangs of grief On pulpit his address a venom of bile The heart of lucent hearts he took or I? An alien I am within my own race For any one's boon this heart owes not My craze still feels the same burning phase This dust still feels His living flame My glance looks not the world's hollow game I have been born in a flameless age The 'rose and poppy' lack my 'scent and shade. So alien I am in West and East I broke the magic of the modern age You have lit up my eyes with an insight When I pressed myself in my own embrace The world has charms like paradise true Bid him O lord! a holy man's lead Move around O bearer! the wine cup's course For love the world came from thee the love's flame To me this burning a boon of thy glow This heart, I tied not with aught in this fane Grow that poppy from the dust of mine To my shining race I would love to groan For the sake of truth of my free lance tone I hold a heart in hand find not a beau Like Rumi I raised His call in Harem whole Raise a garden new from dust of mine A Muslim is resting from coast to coast Who told him I smell thee 'under the rose' From thy own main give pearls to my rill In a gathering see my flute's tones sweet I kept beaming face in this or that case I have shared the poppy's flame and pain With thy light alone I lit up my glance I need in thy land just a melting sigh XII I hold very dear that roaring roar Look to these saucy Anglican maids Give a helping hand to those who are weak XIII You too take the wine from friend's cup warm A poor man I'm, you hold the 'Arab's reign A look of pain I'm and see no cure quick Let tis join hands to spread his love's flame You hold a high place in the desert's land Being Muslims we make no home and false ties To Anglian idols pay not a heed HAZOOR-I-MILLAT I AN ODE TO UMMAH Be nearer to the aim like a moon new My self's own sea gave a rise to me Come O' bearer and move the cup of Wine Come O' bearer and raise the veils aside Raise from thy bosom a 'Call of God Great' From self a Muslim is man perfect As long the Muslim, in self can peep, The veils of thy fortune lo! I ope Now all the shut doors for Turks are ope A nation whose spring falls to decay God gave that nation a sway o'er lands From Razi thus learn the Quran's insight II EGO Who makes Ego firm by 'Lailah's tie O ignorant man get a knowing heart Thy heart keeps not that hidden scar III ANAL HAQ (I AM GOD) A place of I am God is God's own place I am the God suits to that nation lone Among nations large she holds a place great From her inner verve that race is a flame Like a unique race thus She flies in space In garden's lawn he is song bird sweet Fill the old wine in the New Age bowl IV SUFI AND MULLAH The Mullah and Sufi are cross in deed When the English subdued the mosque and fane To Mullah and Sufi thou art a slave Through the mirror of Quran see thy deeds I salute the Mullah and Sufi old On hell kafir-maker MulIah spoke A well read disciple asked his guide Thus spoke to his son a guide in patched robe V RUMI Pour in thy self that old wine again Take from his cup those poppy like stems From his verve and heat I got a good share Being full of pathos and passion's heat He solved many ties I had to face To me his heart's door was always ope His thought thus flies with stars and moon rays Take secrets of content from Rumi's call When self is deprived from godly tint That bright wine scattered from my wineyard VI THE MESSAGE OF FAROOQ (HAZRAT UMAR) O desert's breeze rise from 'Arab's sky Tue Faqr and Caliphate with King's Crown shine A young man who peeps in his ego deep For sense and heart's sake leave each door ajar How happy is the race who wins her goal That Turkish seaman how sang a song gay The world rule is destined to my own dust To certitude truth who so ever knew A Muslim who tested his own ego first

VII TO THE ARAB POET To Arab poets sweet on my part say I caused in his soul a verve a heat You leave making now the portraits on wall My heart has a grief, and dust has a heart Of virtues of God Muslim has a part Give to his dust that flame and might A Muslim you were named for grief's bargain On whom were opened the secrets of soul So guard the nature of thy mud and dust The hill and desert night defies thy day Read the clear writing on thy forehead's slate VIII O SON OF THE DESERT When all the desert sides were bright from dawn The Truth chose Arab for caravan's lead Those nights had the uproar for future's dawn IX FROM THIS DUST A RIDER COMES DO YOU KNOW? Learn the ways to win His pleasure and grace If a craze consumes the garden's face The poppy of my dawn's first vernal tide So scattered I'm like dust of the way How lucky a nation whom wheel of fate In self's own sea, I'm thus a restive' wave His glance would fill up the empty bowl The caravans reins he would take when To that holy mother I greet with pride My heart thus says that the hero will hail X THE CALIPHATE AND MONARCHY The Arabs gained a lot from Prophet's light Take the Caliphate's witness with a heed A Moses grapples with kingdoms all The Adam is slave in this world yet The love, from his glance is stable and best XI TURKS OF OTTOMAN EMPIRE In the Ottoman reign, the Turks are free How daring were they who broke his charms The fate thus gave to Turks a verve anew XII TO DAUGHTERS OF THE NATION Learn O' daughterling this loveliness trend A God given sword thy glance to thee At last modern age shows her conscience lo! The world is stable from the mother's grace That nation is lucky in whose hard race This craze she gave me for sharp wits sense If you pay a heed once, to this poor guy From my evening's dusk get a dawn new XIII THE MODERN AGE What is the age? On whom the faith cries His glance only paints the heathen's shade To youths of this age he taught evil ways The Muslim draws content and kingship close The dance you now play in this or that way XIV BRAHMEN For him, he opened hundred doors for plots To Brahmen I say not a useless bloke A pundit keeps eyes on his own task The Brahmen said leave this white man's door XV EDUCATION A shine which lasts with beauty and grace A knowledge which cures but melts not to trance No links with that Momin the God would keep A blind eye is better from eyes crook No use of a thought which measures sky Respect is the dress of a sage or fool Why you lose hopes of kids a bit Teach the offspring wisdom and faith's ken Who sapp'd sweet tone of the birds and buds The days of that 'Dervesh' O God keep gay Who e'er tied himself with Lailah's tie A caravan was killed, if you e'er see A well dressed fighter and handsome guy To a camel addressed its youngest foal XVI SEARCH FOR FOOD AND LIVING If the hawks too fly for roof to roof race See thy own self with a seeing eye XVII A CROCODILE TO ITS YOUNG Thus said to its child a 'croco' with boast In sea you are not it lies but in thee XVIII THE FINIS I talk not of bearer nor of bowl hence Back to ego turn, and back to heart look For heart and eyes course, the ‘Harem’ is the aim A MESSAGE TO MANKIND Introduction I O bearer come and serve the old wine Leave thy solitude cell for a while please II With times came unrest which passed so quick Those who had fears for the future days III Like nightingale you know not the groans and wails Come forward and learn the self seeing art Give up the habit to weep on fate A gull said to shaver, nice witty thing You had fallen then from a godly place I hail that day when he turns to self's bold Like me you are too wrapped in a veil A camel once said a nice word to foal IV I know many savants and gems of west Hark! O victim of wits of aliens few V This being would last or just a passing show With battle axe smite the Bistoon Mountain Keep the crave's lamp burning ever in heart O heart's sea! no peace yet known to thee To both the worlds win with efforts and zeal You show us O Poppy! thy self's own trace VI A man weeps not from a grief or pains If a tested man dies think not ever If thy dust has no link with soul and heart My each breath blows with griefs many more A young who tied heart with ego's call Such griefs this heart now likes to take Blame not the God for this or that hurt Turn out fire of envy from thy heart's core In his nights behold many dawns bright VII To the morning breeze' weep'd the dew' in trance VIII HEART The heart is a sea which likes no shore My heart is a fire, a smoke my frame His help the world seeks like his slave own The Ego's power he did not try You say the heart is the Khak and Khoon The world of Sun and Moon, slave of his thread We are God's harvest its yield is heart To that rare beauty my heart seeks again The heart's world is not world of pomp and show The glance brought eyes and wisdom a tape band What is the love? an impact of glance IX EGO The Ego is lucent from God's light rays When a nation gives up gossip's course From God's own being, the 'self' got a 'being' so The friendship of rose a heart likes when His parting's prick in my tête-à-tête lies The dusty look I hold owes to His door X COMPULSION AND OPTION I am quite certain that on the doomsday In city of Room a pontiff told me XI DEATH The death once said to God in this way To king of six nooks give a lasting soul XII SAY TO SATAN From me please give to Satan a message As long He made not this wide world anew The separation gave to zeal great spur He drove thee out from the Heavens first My rights and the wrongs you already know Let us play a chess like a royal game XIII EARTH'S SATAN AND HELL'S SATAN From this world's clear violence the man is sick Look the demons dash on ear and eyelash What a devil who likes a backward gait What a venomed wine he holds in his bowl Yet the man lies fallen from the high place To Satans of this age be not a prey His blows counterpart is a man complete To sense of the means it is far off though TO FRIENDS OF COMMON CREED (SAME PATH) I The Qalandar is a bold hawk of sky When the Allah Hoo's tick did hit my soul In the heart of nature like tears I groan In logic I feel a smell of raws Come and take from me that old wine's bowl The same old harp I hold in my hand To tyrants of this age I would thus say A poor I am whose asset is glance My heart's door I shut not to any one No pomp and show I have in this globe Some points were discussed by hundred wise men The science or art points I claim not to wield I boast not to be a song bird of dawn This world is a path to my eyes and sense With nothingness learn to live with grace For long I'm gaining from this dusty mart You cant learn aught 'sans' a conscious soul Get a self-knowing eye and see thy soul The wisdom knows not the certitude eyes What are the clothes, gold jewels and gems? To self my wine gives full sense and poise For robes and turbans why you feel a bent As soon I espied my ego's essence When I packed my self from this dusty fuss II If a wise man holds clean conscience and soul III You are bowing head to 'Dara' and 'Jam' I heard a nice verse from a man old The being's secret hids in two words of sage The being's secret hids in two words of sage Two worlds1 of old man I keep in mind still A restive wave said once to a coast If this pomp and show the Anglian boon To Anglians thus the hearts do not own IV We are despaired of heart and faith's way His path's true sign if a Muslim could know O callous heart make not a link with clay In Truth and certitude lies the love's place For Muslim 'this is the gnosis and ken You handed over thee to idols white A self maker and melter each cant be A Momin burns thus in his being's own heat What is lovers s service, prayers of beaus? He calls both worlds to Quran by prays V The English mind knows God's Food Law Rules A long tale serves no service in a sense A paradise lies for the pious alone VI This dervesh knows not a style in speech Allama Iqbal's Home Page [2]

See also

• Javid Nama
• Payam-i-Mashriq
• Zabur-i-Ajam
• Pas Chih Bayad Kard ay Aqwam-i-Sharq
• Bang-e-Dara
• Bal-e-Jibril
• Asrar-i-Khudi
• Rumuz-e-Bekhudi
• Zarb-i-Kalim

Notes

1. "Introduction to Armaghan-i-Hijaz". Iqbal Academy Pakistan.
2. "Armaghan-i-Hijaz , translated by Q.A. Kabit". Iqbal Academy Pakistan.

External links

Read online

• "Armaghan-i-Hijaz". Iqbal Academy Pakistan.
• "Armaghan-i-Hijaz,". Iqbal Cyber library.
• "Gift from Hijaz, English translation of Armaghan-i-Hijaz by Q.A. Kabit". Iqbal Academy Pakistan.

Iqbal Academy Pakistan

• "Homepage". Iqbal Academy Pakistan.

1. http://www.dawn.com/news/1210802, Biography of Javed Iqbal and info on Muneeb Iqbal on Dawn, Karachi newspaper, Retrieved 30 April 2016