To God (6)

Bestow on me Rumi’s tumult and Khusraw’s burning, sincerity and truthfulness of Sana‘i:

I’m so accustomed to the state of servitude that I would refuse, if I’m offered lordship.

(7)

Muslim, clad in rags and given to starvation, Gabriel is all protest at his deeds;

come, let us lay the foundation of a new millat, for this millat has become an unbearable burden.

Another millat that sets a new task for herself, that sucks elixir out of thorns,

is not content with this one world and carried two worlds on her shoulders.

Another people whose dhikr of la ilah comes out from night’s heart at morn time;

the sun knows her destination and cleans the sand of Milky Way from her path!

(8)

Your world is in the hands of a few mean fellows, Its people are in fetters of inhuman persons;

a skilful man, in factories, kills himself for a few vultures’ pleasure.

A hungry disciple said to his master: ‘God does not know of our state:

He is closer to us than our jugular veins, But not as close as our bellies.’

(9)

This land of Hind is all topsy turvy, this earth and heaven are all upside down,

don’t expect from us five daily prayers, for drawing up in rows is burdensome for slaves.

Muslim has sold himself away due to slavery, and is fettered to the talisman of eye and ear;

his body’s veins grow so indolent through slavery that shari‘ah and law become a burden for us.

(10)

Just for once weigh up gain against loss: Make this world eternal like paradise.

Can You not see all that we, creatures of dust, Have done to adorn this earth?

You know what eternal life is, you don’t know what sudden death is!

Not a single moment of yours is lost, if I become immortal: what is your loss?