A poem by Allama Iqbal
You are neither for earth nor for the heavens.
The world is for you; you are not for the world.
This garden is the place for pain and prayer.
Not for picking flowers or building a nest.
How long will you stay in the rivers of Ravi, Nile, and Farat?
Your ship was built for infinite oceans.
It was nothing, what we have exaggerated.
We made it more, just for our fantasies.