That the organization of the community is only possible though law, and that the law of the Muhammadan Community is the Quran

When a community forsakes its Law Its parts are severed, like the scattered dust.

The being of the Muslim rests alone On Law which is in truth the inner core Of the Apostle’s faith.

A rose is born When its component petals are conjoined By Law; and roses, being likewise bound By Law together, fashion a bouquet.

As sound controlled creates a melody So, when control is absent, dissonance Results.

The breath we draw within our throat Is but a wave of air which, in the reed Being constricted, blows a tuneful note.

Knowest thou what thy Law is, wherein lies Beneath yon spheres the secret of thy power?

It is the living Book, that wise Quran Whose wisdom is eternal, uncreate.

The secrets of the fashioning of life Are therein written; instability Is firmly established by its potency.

Undoubted and unchanging are its words, Its verses to interpretation not Beholden;

in its strength the raw desire Acquires maturity, the bowl fears not To dash against the rock.

The shackling chains, and leads the free man forth But brings the exultant captor unto woe.

The final message to all humankind Was borne by him elect of God to be A mercy unto every living thing;

By this the worthless unto worth attains, The prostrate slave lifts up his head on high.

Having by heart this message, highwaymen Turned guides upon the road, and by this book Were qualified high masters of the rolls;

Rude desert-farers through one lantern’s glow A hundred revelations to their brain In every science won.

So he, whose load The mountain’s massive shoulders could not bear, Clove by his might the power of the spheres.

See how the capital of all our hopes Is lodged securely in our children’s breasts!

The weary wanderer in the wilderness Unwatered, eyes aflame in the hot sun,

His camel nimbler than the agile deer, Its breath as fire

when he would look to sleep Casting him down bencath some shady palm, Then with the dawn awake, the caravan Clanged to departure,

ever journeying Through the wide prairies, unfamiliar With roof and door, stranger to fixed abodes

When his wild heart responded vibrantly To the Quran’s warm glow, its restless waves Sank to the calm of a sequestered pearl.

Reading the lesson of its verses clear He who had come a slave went forth from God A master.

Now upon his instrument New melodies imperial were heard; Jamshid’s high throne he trampled underfoot;

Cities sprang up out of the dust he trod, A hundred bowers blossomed from his rose.

O thou, whose faith by custom is enslaved, Imprisoned by the charms of heathendom,

Thou who hast torn thy heritage to shreds Treading the highway to a hateful goal,

If thou wouldst live the Muslim life anew This cannot be, except by the Quran Thou livest.

See the Sufi in his garb Of mystic minstrelsy

his heart inflamed By the fierce fervour of Iraqi’s verse! Little do his wild ecstasies accord With the austere Quran

the dervish cap And mat of reeds replace the crown and throne; His boasted poverty rich tribute takes Secured on many a hermitage endowed.

The preacher, with his wealth of anecdote And wordy legend, little has to tell If truth, for all his fine grandiloquence;

Khatib and Dailami are on his lips, In every week Tradition he delights, The little met with, and the insecure.

It is thy duty to recite the Book, And therein find the purpose thou dost seek.