What should then be done O nations of the East

The West has put mankind in grievous pain, and, through it, life has lost all charm.

What should then be done, O people of the East?— that the life of the East may once again brighten up.

A revolution has occurred in the East’s heart, night has passed away, and the sun has risen.

Europe has fallen prey to its own sword; it has laid the foundation of secularism in the world;

it is a wolf in the garb of a lamb, every moment in ambush for a prey.

In its eyes man is nothing but water and clay, and the caravan of Life has no goal.

Whatever you see is the manifestation of God’s light; the knowledge of things is a part of God’s secrets

He who sees God’s signs is a free man, the basis of this wisdom is God’s order: Look.

Through it the believer is more successful in life than the non believer and more sympathetic towards others.

When knowledge illumines his mind, his heart grows more and more God oriented.

Knowledge of things is like elixir to our dust, alas! its effect in the West is different.

Its (the West’s) reason and thought have no standards of right and wrong, its eyes know no tear, its heart is hard as stone.

Knowledge, through it, has become a disgrace for all, Gabriel, in its society, has become Iblis.

The wisdom of the Franks is an unsheathed sword, ever ready to destroy the human species.

In this world of good and evil, intoxication of knowledge does not suit mean natures.

May God protect us from the West and its ways, and from its secular thinking;

the Westerners have changed true knowledge into magic, nay, rather into unbelief.

A hundred mischiefs have raised their head on all sides, snatch away the sword from the hands of this highwayman.

O you who know the distinction between body and soul, break the spell of this godless civilisation.

Breathe the soul of the East into the West’s body, that it may afford the key to the door of Reality.

Reason under heart’s guidance is godlike; When it frees itself from the heart, it becomes Satanic.

At every moment life is a struggle, the situation in Abyssinia affords a warning;

the law of Europe, without any doubt, allows wolves to kill sheep.

We should set up a new order in the world, there is no hope of relief from these plunderers of the dead.

There is nothing in Geneva except deceit and fraud: this sheep is my share, that is yours.

There are many subtle ideas of the West which cannot be expressed in words, a world of mischief and disorders lies hidden in them.

O you who are enamoured of colour, rise above colour; have faith in yourself, deny the Franks.

The strings of gain and loss are in your hands, the honour of the East depends on you.

Bring all the ancient nations together; raise the flag of sincerity and rectitude.

The life of the votaries of truth depends upon their possessing power, and the power of every nation depends upon unity.

Wisdom without power is deceit and enchantment, power without wisdom is ignorance and madness.

Ardour, harmony, sympathy and compassion—all come from Asia, both the wine and the cup are Asia’s.

We taught love the way of ravishing hearts and the art of creating man.

Art as well as religion came from the land of the East whose sacred dust is the envy of the heavens.

We revealed to the world all that lay hidden, the sun is from us and we are of the sun.

Every oyster has its pearl through our spring rains, the majesty of every ocean is due to our storms.

We have discerned our souls in the songs of the nightingale and the blood of Adam in the veins of flowers.

Our thought, seeker of the secrets of Existence, was the first to strike the note of life

We had in our breast a wound of passion, made by us into a lamp to illumine the pathway of life.

You are the trustee of religion and culture, bring out the White Hand from under your sleeve.

Rise and solve the problems of the nations, put out of your head the intoxication of the West.

Set the pattern for the unity of Asia, snatch yourself away from the hand of Ahriman.

You know the West and its deeds, how long will you remain tied to its strings?

The wound, the lancet and the needle are all West’s, ours is the pool of blood and the expectation that incision will be stitched up.

You know that kingship is power to rule, but power, in our times, is mere commerce.

The shopkeeper is a partner in political power, trade brings in profit and political power brings in tribute.

If a ruler is also a shopkeeper, you will find good on his tongue, but evil in his heart.

If you can assess him properly, you will find your coarse cloth finer than his silk.

Pass off his workshop unmindful of everything, do not buy his fur in winter.

His principle is: to kill without striking; death lurks in the movement of his machines;

do not exchange your mat for his rugs and your pawn for his queen;

his pearl is blemished, his ruby impure, the musk of this merchant is from the navel of a dog.

Sleeping on his velvet will rob you of your eyes, and its beauty will rob you of yourself.

You have made a muddle of your affairs, do not build up your prestige on his basis;

a wise person would not drink wine from his pitcher, and anyone who did would drop dead in the tavern;

while negotiating a business deal, he is all smiles and sweet word, we are like children and he is a sweetmeat seller.

He fully knows the heart and look of the buyer, O God! is this commerce or magic?

Those dealers in merchandise take away all the profit, we buyers are all blind.

O free man, sell, wear and eat only that which grows out of your own soil.

Those pure of heart, who are aware of themselves, have themselves sewn their simple garments.

O you unaware of the deeds of the present age, see the skilfulness of the people of Europe.

They weave out of your wool and silk, and then offer them to you for sale.

Your eyes are taken in by their appearances; their colour and glamour turn your head.

Alas for the river whose waves did not fret, and which bought its own pearls from the divers!