When truth has no burning, then it is philosophy, when it gets

Muhammad Iqbal, the poet-philosopher of the East, once proclaimed with a voice that still trembles through the ages: “When truth has no burning, then it is philosophy, when it gets burning from the heart, it becomes poetry.” In these few words, he unveils the difference between knowledge that remains in the mind and truth that ignites the soul. Philosophy is truth thought, arranged, and reasoned—but poetry is truth aflame, carried not only by intellect but by passion, longing, and fire. One illuminates the mind; the other transforms the heart.

The origin of this wisdom comes from Iqbal’s own life, in which he was both philosopher and poet. Trained in law, steeped in Western philosophy, and a student of Rumi’s mystical vision, Iqbal understood the discipline of thought. Yet he also knew its limits. Philosophy can analyze, dissect, and frame truth with words and logic, but it often remains cold, distant, lifeless. For truth to move men, to stir nations, to awaken dormant souls, it must be clothed in burning emotion, the kind that poetry alone can bear. Iqbal saw himself not merely as a philosopher of ideas, but as a poet of awakening, calling his people to rise from slumber.

Consider the example of Rumi, the great mystic. His teachings, if laid bare as philosophy, might have remained as intricate arguments about love, unity, and divine longing. Yet Rumi’s truths burned within him, and so they became poetry—verses that have crossed centuries and continents, healing hearts and stirring souls. What might have been cold doctrine became a fountain of fire, not because the truths were different, but because they were expressed with burning. It is this fire that makes men weep, hope, and rise transformed.

The meaning of Iqbal’s words extends to the very power of art and expression. Truth without burning remains in books, spoken in halls, written in treatises. It is respected, perhaps admired, but rarely lived. Truth with burning leaps from the page, grips the soul, and demands action. A philosopher may explain justice; a poet can make men hunger for it. A philosopher may describe freedom; a poet can make nations rise to claim it. Thus, poetry is philosophy in flame, thought set on fire, knowledge transmuted into passion.

There is also in this quote a heroic challenge. It asks each of us: is the truth within us cold, or does it burn? Do we merely know what is right, or do we feel it so deeply that we must act, speak, create, and live by it? Many know the truth, yet live as though asleep. Few allow the fire of truth to consume them until their lives themselves become poems—embodiments of burning passion, beauty, and conviction. The difference is not in the truth itself, but in the heart that carries it.

The lesson we inherit is timeless: do not be content to hold truth in your mind alone. Let it descend into your heart until it burns. Let your convictions become songs, your values become actions, your knowledge become life. The world does not need more cold philosophy alone; it needs truths that burn enough to move mountains. Poetry is not only for poets—it is for all who live their truths with fire.

Practically, this means nurturing both study and passion. Seek knowledge—read, question, reason, as philosophers do. But do not stop there. Ask yourself what truths you hold that stir your blood, that awaken your soul. Write them, sing them, live them, until others feel their heat. Share your convictions not with the dullness of mere explanation, but with the fire of poetry, whether through words, deeds, or the radiant example of your life.

Thus Muhammad Iqbal’s words blaze like a torch for future generations: “When truth has no burning, it is philosophy. When it burns from the heart, it becomes poetry.” Let your truths burn, so that they do not remain cold ideas, but living flames. In this way, you too will become a poet of existence, shaping not only your own life but the destiny of all who encounter your fire.