"Sāre jahāñ se acchā hindostāñ hamārā.."

“Sara Jahan se acha…”, is one of my favorite songs, first two lines of this poem will always comes to my mind, in fact this may be one of the many two lines which will always remain in the lips of millions of Indians. This poem (one of the most popular poems in India) is written in Urdu, by Muhammed Iqbal (later become the national poet of Pakistan) was first published in 1904.

Lyrics:

sāre jahāñ se acchā hindostāñ hamārā
ham bulbuleñ haiñ us kī vuh gulsitāñ hamārā
ġhurbat meñ hoñ agar ham, rahtā hai dil vatan meñ
samjho vuhīñ hameñ bhī dil ho jahāñ hamārā
parbat vuh sab se ūñchā, hamsāyah āsmāñ kā
vuh santarī hamārā, vuh pāsbāñ hamārā
godī meñ kheltī haiñ us kī hazāroñ nadiyāñ
gulshan hai jin ke dam se rashk-e janāñ hamārā
ay āb-rūd-e gangā! vuh din haiñ yād tujh ko?
utarā tire kināre jab kāravāñ hamārā
mażhab nahīñ sikhātā āpas meñ bair rakhnā
hindī haiñ ham, vatan hai hindostāñ hamārā
yūnān-o-miṣr-o-rumā sab miṭ gaye jahāñ se
ab tak magar hai bāqī nām-o-nishāñ hamārā
kuchh bāt hai kih hastī miṭtī nahīñ hamārī
sadiyoñ rahā hai dushman daur-e zamāñ hamārā
iqbāl! koī meharam apnā nahīñ jahāñ meñ
m’alūm kyā kisī ko dard-e nihāñ hamārā!

English Translation:

Better than the entire world, is our Hindustan,
We are its nightingales, and it (is) our garden abode
If we are in an alien place, the heart remains in the homeland,
Know us to be only there where our heart is.
That tallest mountain, that shade-sharer of the sky,
It (is) our sentry, it (is) our watchman
In its lap frolic those thousands of rivers,
Whose vitality makes our garden the envy of Paradise.
O the flowing waters of the Ganges, do you remember that day
When our caravan first disembarked on your waterfront?
Religion does not teach us to bear ill-will among ourselves
We are of Hind, our homeland is Hindustan.
In a world in which ancient Greece, Egypt, and Rome have all vanished without trace
Our own attributes (name and sign) live on today.
Such is our existence that it cannot be erased
Even though, for centuries, the cycle of time has been our enemy.
Iqbal! We have no confidant in this world
What does any one know of our hidden pain?

Regards,
Sajeev.

English translation is copied from Wikipedia.