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by Allama Iqbal

The poor man is a fire, rulership and power imperial are straw;

a naked sword is ample enough for the august pomp of kings.
The drumming of the dervish, Alexander’s clamorous vanity—
the one is the rapture of Moses, the other the Samiri’s conjuring.
The one slays with a glance, the other slays with an army;
the one is all peace and amity, the other is all war and wrangling.
Both were conquerors of the world, both sought immortality,
the one by the guidance of violence, the other guided by love.
Bring the hammer-blow of the dervish, break the rampart of Alexander;
renew the ancient wont of Moses, break the glamour of wizardry!
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