|The bonds that in past, like bundle knit the Faithful Fold, have now been split!|
O God sent Guide, let Muslims know, what to do and where to go?
The Arabian Sea is quite bereft of stir, there rise no waves and crest;
The tempest that in me is hid has no place to spread and skid!
Caravan has left the tramp alone, but mount or food he does not own:
Where can the singing cameleer go, who rides on hill and waste to and fro!
O Soul, whom God for message chose! This secret hid to me disclose:
Some light on this problem throw, where may the guard of God's portents go?