Contemporary Politics

(The politics of present age) tightens the captives’ chains even more —

Yet the short-sighted one calls it freedom.

When it saw the heat of the people’s uproar —

It threw a veil over the face of kingship.

It named empire the “League of Nations” (the United Nations) —

Set its own business straight, and spoke words meant to deceive.

In its atmosphere no wings can truly be unfurled —

With its key no door can really be opened.

It tells the caged bird, “O wounded one —

Build your nest inside the hunter’s house.

Whoever builds a nest in desert or meadow —

Is not safe from the hawk or the falcon.”

By its enchantment even the wise bird is lured by the grain —

It buried its own lament within its throat.

If you want freedom, stay far from its net —

Die thirsty, but do not crave the wine of its grapes.

From its heated speech, seek God’s protection —

From its double-edged, slippery words, seek God’s protection.

Its kohl makes the eyes even more dim —

And the helpless human becomes still more helpless because of it.

From the wine of its cup, seek God’s protection —

From its ill-intended gamble, seek God’s protection.

The free man is never heedless of his Khudi —

Guard yourself, do not swallow its opium pill.

Speak to the pharaohs of the age in the manner of Moses —

So that your blow may split the sea in two.

My heart is scarred by this caravan’s disgrace —

I see no light in the heart of its leader.

Worshipper of the body, drunk on status, and short of sight —

His inner soul is destitute of the light of "La ilaha".

He was born in the Sanctuary, yet became a disciple of the church —

He tore our national honor’s veil to shreds.

To cling to such a man is sheer foolishness —

For his chest is devoid of an illumined heart.

In this matter, trust your own self, for no one —

Can hunt a deer with a blind dog.

Pity the nation that shut its eyes to itself —

Gave its heart to other-than-God, and broke away from its own self.

When Khudi died in a nation’s breast —

Its mountain became like a straw, and the wind carried it away.

Though “La ilaha” lies within this nation’s nature —

No Muslim has been born from the wombs of their mothers.

No one has been born who can grant certainty to the doubters —

And whose prostration makes the earth tremble.

No one has been born who, even beneath the sword, says “La ilaha,” —

Whose blood makes the crop of “La ilaha” grow.

That rapture, that burning of longing remains no more —

In the Sanctuary, no man of heart remains.

O Muslim, in this old idol-house —

How long will you remain in Iblis’s chains?

Striving with God’s grace, and delight in the quest —

None attains it without the midnight prayer.

How long will you live in the sea like a straw? —

Through self-restraint, become firm like a mountain.

Though the wise never reveal their heart’s condition to anyone —

I cannot hide my pain from you.

Since I am a slave, born into slavery —

I have fallen far from the threshold of the Ka‘bah.

When I send blessings upon Muhammad Mustafa (PBUH) —

My whole being melts with shame.

Love says: O one enslaved to the Other —

Your chest has become an idol-temple because of idols.

Until you take on the color and fragrance of Muhammad (PBUH) —

Do not stain his noble name with your blessings.

Ask not of my standing with no presence of heart —

Ask not of my prostration devoid of all delight.

The manifestation of God, though it be for a single breath —

Is the destiny of free men alone, and none else.

When a free man falls into prostration —

The azure sky circles him in fervent motion.

We slaves are strangers to His majesty —

And unaware of His everlasting beauty.

Do not seek the taste of faith in a slave —

Even if he is a memorizer of the Qur’an, do not seek it.

Outwardly he seems a believer, yet his craft is idol-making —

His religion and his knowing are nothing but disbelief.

If you carry within you the burning of life —

Know that in prayer lies the Muslim’s ascension.

And if you do not carry warm blood in your body —

Then your prostration is nothing but an old ritual.

The Eid of free nations is the glory and grandeur of state and faith —

While the Eid of slaves is only a crowd of Muslims.