...

The word springing from the heart surely carries weight,

Though not endowed with wings, it yet can fly in space.

 

Pure and spiritual in its essence, it pegs its gaze on high,

Rising from the lowly dust, grazes past the skies.

 

Keen, defiant, and querulous was my passion crazed,

It pierced through the skies, my audacious wail.

________________________________________________

 

"Someone is there," thus spoke the heaven's warder old,

the planets said, "From above proceeds this voice so bold."

 

"No, no," the moon said," "tis someone on the earth below,"

Butted in the milky way: "The voice is hereabouts, I trow."

 

Ruzwan alone, if at all, understood aright,

He knew it was the man, from heaven once exiled.

________________________________________________

(Jawab-e-Shikwa by Dr. Allama Iqbal)

 

I am not a poetry-pansy type (no offense) , but the work of Dr. Allama Iqbal kicks me so hard.

Done