The Morning Sun
|Far from the ignoble strife of Man’s tavern you are|
The wine-cup adorning the sky’s assemblage you are
The jewel which should be the pearl of the morning’s bride’s ear you are
The ornament which would be the pride of horizon’s forehead you are
The blot of night’s ink from time’s page has been removed!
The star from sky like a spurious picture has been removed!
|When from the roof of the sky your beauty appears|
Effect of sleep’s wine suddenly from eyes disappears
Perception’s expanse gets filled with light
Though opens only the material eye your light
The spectacle which the eyes seek is desired
The effulgence which would open the insight is desired
|The desires for freedom were not fulfilled in this life|
We remained imprisoned in chains of dependence all life
The high and the low are alike for your eye
I too have longing for such a discerning eye
May my eye shedding tears in sympathy for others’ woes be!
May my heart free from the prejudice of nation and customs be!
|May my tongue be not bound with discrimination of color|
May mankind be my nation, the whole world my country be
May secret of Nature’s organization clear to my insight be
May smoke of my imagination’s candle rising to the sky be
May search for secrets of opposites not make me restless!
May the Love‑creating Beauty in everything appear to me!
|If the rose petals get damaged by the breeze|
May its pain dropping from my eye as a tear be
May the heart contain that little spark of Love’s fire
The light of which may contain the secret of the Truth
May my heart not mine but the Beloved’s mirror be!
May no thought in my mind except human sympathy be!
|If you cannot endure the hardships of the tumultuous world|
O the Great Luminary that is not the mark of greatness!
As you are not aware of your world‑decorating beauty
You cannot be equal to a speck of dust at the Man’s door!
The light of Man eager for the Spectacle ever remained
And you obligated to the tomorrow’s morning ever remained
|Longing for the Light of the Truth is only in our hearts|
Abode of Lailah of desire for search is only in this litter
Opening of the difficult knot, Oh what a pleasure it is!
The pleasure of universal gain in our endless effort is!
Your bosom is unacquainted with the pain of investigation
You are not familiar with searching of the secrets of Nature
Translated by: M.A.K. Khalil