An invocation
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O THOU that art as the soul in the body of the universe, | |
Thou art our soul end thou art ever fleeing from us. | |
Thou breathest music into Life's lute; | |
Life envies Death when death is for thy sake | 1620 |
One more bring comfort to our sad hearts, | |
Once more dwell in our breasts! | |
Once more demand from us the sacrifice of name and fame, | |
Strengthen our weak love. | |
We are oft complaining of destiny, | 1625 |
Thou art of great price and we have naught. | |
Aide not thy fair face from the empty handed! | |
Sell cheap the love of Salman and Bilal!117 | |
Give us the sleepless eye and the passionate heart, | |
Give us again the nature of quick silver man | 1630 |
Show unto us one of thy manifest signs, | |
That the necks of our enemies may be bowed! | |
Make this chaff a mountain crested with fire; | |
Burn with out fire all that is not God! | |
When the people of Islam let the thread of Unity go from their hands, | 1635 |
They fell into a hundred mazes. | |
We are dispersed like stars in the world | |
Though of the same family, we are strange to one another. | |
Rind again these scattered leaves, | |
Revive the law of love! | 1640 |
Take us back to serve thee as of old, | |
Commit thy cause to them that love thee! | |
We are travellers: give us resignation as our goal! | |
Give us the strong faith of Abraham! | |
Make us know the meaning of "There is no God." | 1645 |
Make us acquainted with the mystery of "except Allah!"118 | |
I who burn like a candle for the sake of others | |
Teach myself to weep like that candle. | |
O God! a tear that is heart-enkindling, | |
Passionful, wrung forth by pain, peace consuming, | 1650 |
May I sow in the garden, and may it grow into a fire | |
That washes away the fire-brand from the tulip's robe! | |
My heart is with yesterday, my eye is on to-morrow: | |
Amidst the company I am alone. | |
"Every one fancies he is my friend, | 1655 |
But none ever sought the secrets within my Soul." | |
Oh, where in the wide world is my comrade ? | |
I am the Bush of Sinai: where is my Moses? | |
I am tyrannous, I have done many a wrong to myself, | |
I have nourished a flame in my bosom, | 1660 |
A flame that burnt to ashes the wares of understanding, | |
Cast fire on the skirt of discretion, | |
Lessened with madness the proud reason, | |
And inflamed the very being of knowledge: | |
its blaze enthrones the sun in the sky | 1665 |
And lightnings encircle it with adoration for ever. | |
Mine eye fell to weeping, like dew, | |
Since I was entrusted with that hidden fire. | |
I taught the candle to burn openly, | |
While I myself burned unseen by the world's eye. | 1670 |
As last flames burst forth from every hair of me, | |
Fire dropped from the veins of my thought: | |
My nightingale picked up the grains of spark | |
And created a fire-tempered song. | |
The breast of this age is without a heart, | 1675 |
Majnun quivers with pain because Laila's howdah is empty. | |
It is not easy for the candle to throb alone; | |
Ah, is there no moth worthy of me? | |
How long shall I wait for one to share my grief? | |
How long must I search for a confidant? | 1680 |
O Thou whose face lends light to the moon and the stars, | |
Withdraw Thy fire from the soul! | |
Take back what Thou hast put in my breast, | |
Remove the stabbing radiance from my mirror, | |
Or give me one old comrade | 1685 |
To be the mirror of mine all-burning love! | |
In the sea wave tosses side by side with wave: | |
Each hath a partner in its emotion. | |
In heaven star consorts with star, | |
And the bright moon lays her head on the knees of Night. | 1690 |
Morning touches Night's dark side, | |
And To-day throws itself against Tomorrow. | |
One river loses its being in another, | |
A waft of air dies in perfume. | |
There is dancing in every nook of the wilderness. | 1695 |
Madman dances with madman. | |
Because in thine essence Thou art single, | |
Thou hast evolved for Thyself a, whole world, | |
I am as the tulip of the field, | |
In the midst of a company I am alone. | 1700 |
I beg of Thy grace a sympathising friend, | |
And adept in the mysteries of my nature, | |
A friend endowed with madness and wisdom, | |
One that knoweth not the phantom of vain things, | |
That I may confide my lament to his soul | 1705 |
And see again my face in his heart. | |
His image I will mould of mine own clay, | |
I will be to him both idol and worshipper. |