The crescent

The sun’s boat is broken and drowned in the Nile

But a piece is floating about on the water of 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 earring of the evening’s bride?

Or has the fragile cord in the Nile’s waters strolling?

Your caravan is afoot without the help of bell’s call

The human ear cannot hear your footsteps’ 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 you!

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.

By Allamah Muhammad Iqbal

Source: Iran Daily