"The form of existence is an effect of the Self, whatsoever thou seest is a secret of the Self."
Untouched are the mountains by my crimson hues,
The eye of existence is not familiar with me,
I rise, trembling, afraid to show myself,
From the East my dawn arrived and routed the night,
A fresh dew settled on the rose of the world,
I have no need of the ear of today,
I am the voice of the poet of tomorrow.
My own age doesn't understand my deep meanings,
But my dew is storm ridden, like the ocean,
But I am a lover: loud crying is my faith,
My song exceeds the range of the chord,
No river will contain my Oman
My flood requires whole seas to hold it,
Lightnings slumber within my soul,
I sweep over mountain and plain,
Arise and pour pure wine into my cup,
Pour moonbeams into the dark night of my thought.
-- Allama M. Iqbal
It is saddening to know that this great mind was delivered from what used to be a brilliant nation. Before the corruption, the greed and the inhumanity, that culturally rich nation was home to minds like him. Perhaps his unsung genius is what makes him so great. Above are a few stanzas taken from his most famous book of poetry. I highly recommend it to anyone seeking to learn things about themselves, things which you do not find in prose, but in poetry.
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