Iqbal Poetry

Poetry in Urdu, Roman Urdu and English Translation all about Iqbal Poetry


Prinde ki faryad | Bang-e-Dra-012

Prinde ki faryad

Prinde ki faryad Tashreeh in urdu

Iqbal Poetry

Prinde ki faryad

Bachon k liya
Ata hai yaad mujh ko guzra howa zamana
Wo bagh k baharain who sub ka chehchana

Azzdiyan kahan wo ab apne ghosle ki
Apni khushi se ana apni khushi se jana

Lagti hai chot dil per ata hai yad jis dam
Shabnaam ke ansuon per kaliyon ka muskarana

Wo payari payari soorat wo kamni se moorat
Abad jis ke dam se tha mera ashiyan

Ati nahin sadaen uss ki mere qafas mein
Hoti meri rehai ae kash mere bus mein

Kya badnaseeb hun main ghar ko taras raha hun
Sathi to hain watan main main qaid main para hun

Ayi bahar kaiyan phoolon ki hans rahi hain
Main iss andhere ghar mein kismet ko ro raha hun

Iss qaid ka elahi dukhra kis sunaun
Der hai yahin qafas main main gham se mer na jaun

Jab se chaman chuta hai ye haal ho gya hai
Dil gham ko kha raha hain gham dil ko kha raha hai

Gana isay samjh ker khush hon na sunne wale
Dukhe huwe dilon ki faryad ye sada hai

Azad muj ko ke de o qauid kerne wale
Main bezuban hun qaidi tu chor ker dua le

The Bird’s Complaint
For children

I am constantly reminded of the bygone times
Those garden’s springs those chorus of chimes

Gone are the freedoms of our own nests
Where we could come and go at our won pleasure

My heart aches the moment I think
Of the buds smile at dew’s tears

That beautiful figure that kaminis form
Which source of happiness in my nest did form

I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now
May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now

How unfortunate I am tantalized for my abode I am
My companions are in the home land in the prison I am
Tashreeh in urdu
Spring has arrived the flower buds are laughing
On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing
O Allah to whom should I relate my tale of woe
I fear lest I die in this cage with this grief

Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such
My heart is waxing the grief my grief is waxing the heart

O listeners considering this music do not be happy
This call is the wailing of my wounded heart

O the one who confined me make me free
A silent prisoner I ma earn my blessings free

Full Book with Translation BANG-E-DRA

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