My poems, O Iqbal, why are they not dear to me? / These streams of pain are from my broken heart.

This couplet captures the profound internal struggle of the artist. The poet, Allama Iqbal, is questioning his own art—why do his poems fail to bring him joy? The answer, however, is devastatingly honest: his poetry is merely the lamentation of his broken heart. It suggests that the art is so steeped in pain and sorrow that it can never be a source of pure, simple pleasure. It is the raw voice of suffering.