Muhammad Iqbal The Crescent
The sun’s boat is broken and drowned in the Nile
But a piece is floating about on the water of the Nile
The twilight’s pure blood drips into the sky’s basin
Has the lancet of Nature drawn the sun’s blood?
Has the sky stolen the ear ring of the evening’s bride?
Or has the fragile cord in the Nile’s waters strolling?
Your caravan is afoot without help of bell’s call
The human ear cannot hear your foot-steps’ sound
You show the spectacle of rise and fall to the eyes
Where is your home? To which country are you going?
O star-like planet take me with yourself
The prick of Longing’s thorn keeps me restless
I am seeking light, I am weary in this habitation
I am the restless child in the existence’s school…