My scattered dust charged with Love
The shape of heart may take at last:
O God, the grief that bowed me then
May press me down as in the past!
The Maids of Eden by their charm
May arouse my urge for song:
The flame of Love that burns in me,
May fire the zeal of Celestial Throng!
The pilgrim’s mind can dwell at times
On spots and stages left behind:
My heed for spots and places crossed,
From the Quest may turn my mind!
By the mighty force of Love
I am turned to Boundless Deep:
I fear that my self‐regard,
Me, for aye, on shore may keep!
My hectic search for aim and end,
In life that smell and hue doth lack,
May get renown like lover’s tale,
Who riding went on litter’s track!
The rise of clay‐born man hath smit
The hosts of heaven with utter fright:
They dread that this fallen star
To moon may wax with fuller light.
[Translated by Syed Akbar Ali Shah]
*
Thy world the fish’s and the winged thing’s
bower;
My world a crying of the sunrise hour;
In Thy world I am helpless and a slave;
In my world is Thy kingdom and Thy power.