Shikwa (Complaint) - Allama Muhammad Iqbal

To most urdu speakers this poem needs no intro as im certain they have heard of it even if they havent ever read it. Allama Iqbal was a muslim intellect of the indian subcontinent. This poem he produced in about 1909 and it created a huge controversy, its alleged that he even recieved death threats and a fatwa was issued against him. The theme of the poem is the poets complaint to Allah (SWT) for having been unfair to the muslim community. All the complaints in this poem he answered himself in another composition Jawab-e-Shikwa, which inshallah i will also post a translation of at a later date. I am posting the translations of the first few verses of the great poem and should be wish it i will try uploading more as and when i can.


Why must I forever lose, forever forgo profit that is my due,
Sunk in the gloom of evenings past, no plans for the morrow pursue.
Why must I all attentive be to the nightingale’s lament?
Friend, am I as dumb as a flower? Must I remain silent?
My theme makes me bold, makes my tongue more eloquent.
Dust be in my mouth, against Allah I make complaint.

We won renown for submitting to Your will – and it is so;
We speak out now, we are compelled to repeat out tale of woe.
We are like the silent lute whose chords are full of choice;
When grief wells up to our lips, we speak; we have no choice.
Lord God! We are Your faithful servants, for a while with us bear,
It is in our nature to always praise You, a small plaint also hear.

That Your Presence was primal from the beginning of time is true;
The rose also adorned the garden but of its fragrance no one knew.
Justice is all we ask for: You are perfect, You are benevolent.
If there were no breeze, how could the rose have spread its scent?
We Your people were dispersed, no solace could we find,
Or, would Your Beloved’s following have gone out its mind?

Before our time, a stranger sight was the world You Made:
Some worshipped stone idols others bowed to trees and prayed.
Accustomed to believing what they saw, the people’s vision wasn’t free,
How then could anyone believe in a God he couldn’t see?
Do you know of anyone, Lord, who then took Your Name? I ask.
It was the muscle in the Muslim’s arms that did Your task

Here on this earth were settled the Seljuqs and the Turanians,
The Chinese lived in China, In Iran lived the Sassanians.
The Greeks flourished in there allotted regions,
In this very world lived the Jews and the Christians.
But who did draw their swords in Your Name and fight?
When things had gone wrong, who put them right?