Iqbal's first book of poetry in Urdu, Bang-i-Dara (1924), was followed by Bal-i-Jibril in 1935 and Zarb-i-Kalim in 1936. Bal-i-Jibril is regarded as the peak of Iqbal's Urdu poetry. It consists of ghazals, poems, quatrains, epigrams and advises the nurturing of the vision and intellect necessary to foster sincerity and firm belief in the heart of the ummah and turn its members into true believers.Template:R
The work contains 15 ghazals addressed to God and 61 ghazals and 22 quatrains dealing with ego, faith, love, knowledge, the intellect and freedom. Iqbal recalls the past glory of Muslims as he deals with contemporary political problems.
Contents
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Introduction
Odes Part-I
A blaze is raging near His Throne
If the stars are astray
Bright are Thy tresses, brighten them even more
A free spirit I have, and seek no praise for it
What avails love when life is so ephemeral?
If my scattered dust turns into a heart again
The world is tospy—turvy; the stars are wildly spinning
O Cup—bearer! Give me again that wine of love for Thee
My Lord has effaced the gulf between His world and mine
Consuming fire for thee
Dost Thou remember not my heart’s first rapture
When flowers deck themselves into ruby bloom
My power of making music
I had believed my arena was under the starry heavens
Reason is either luminous, or it seeks proofs
O Lord! This world of Thine has a winsome face
Odes Part-II
Selfhood can demolish the magic of this world
Who sings this poignant song, blithe in spirit
The secret divine my ecstasy has taught
O myriad–coloured earth
Thou art yet region—bound
The dervish, in his freedom
The flowers are once more in radiant bloom
Muslims are born with a gift to charm, to persuade
It is love that infuses warmth into the music of life
With a heart unknown to a flame
The tongue and the heart
These Western nymphs
An illumined heart is supernal
Selfhood is daring in power, but has no pride
The leader is unworthy
Winter winds pierced me like a sharp sword
This ancient world
The way to renounce is
Reason is not far
Selfhood is an ocean boundless, fathomless
The morning breeze has whispered to me a secret
Thy vision and thy hands are chained, earth—bound
The only treasure reason has, is knowledge
Alexander’s burnished throne
Thou art not for the earth
In bondage of space
Reason has bestowed on me the eye of the wise
My plaint at last evoked
The sun, the moon, the stars
Every object has the urge
Is it a miracle,
Why should I ask wise men about my origin?
When the love of God teaches self—awareness
Explore the mysteries of’ fate, as I have done
This onrush of yearning
Let thy reason be close to nature
Alas! These men of church and mosque are known
Reason has devised again the magic of ancient days
