بندگی نامه

Moon that illuminates earth submitted to Allah; my light turns the night into day.

I remember the time when there was no night or day; I was deep asleep in the conscience of time.

There was no star in my attendence; revolutionary movement was not in my nature.

When desert and human abode was not lit by my light; oceans had no restlessness (tides) because of (the attraction of my megnatic) beauty.

Alas! This was changed by the magic spell of being; I regret my brightness and urge for manifestation.

I learnt shining from the Sun; and lightened the dead Earth.

Earth is lit (by me) but it has no joy or solace; its face has pimples of slavery.

Everyone on earth has a hook stuck in his throat like a fish; mankind has forgotten God and worships human beings.

By bounding me to soil and water, made me ashamed of revolving around it.

This world is not aware of the light of the soul; it does not deserve Sun and Moon.

Push this Earth into blue sky; cut its link with celestial beings like us.

Either relieve me (of duty) of serving it; or create a new Adam out of its soil.

My eye was better blind and lightless; leave this earthly abode without my light.

In servitude heart dies inside the body; the soul becomes burden for the body.

Slavery renders the young weak like the old; in slavery the (fiercefully young) lion sheds his teeth.

In slavery a nation is fragmented; and its individuals fight with each other.

One group prostrates and the other stands up; life is like praying without prayer leader.

Everyone quarrels with other; everyone complains of some problem all the time.

In slavery the man of God becomes idol worshiper; slavery turns his precious potentialities worthless.

Branches of his tree shed leaves without (autumn); he has no life as he is afraid of death every moment.

He becomes so clueless that he takes poison as honey; dead without death and carrying his dead body on his shoulders.

He has lost the dignity of life; like a donkey he is satisfied with hay and barley.

Observe his possible and impossible; watch his sense of time (and space).

His days mourn each other (in state of perpetual mourning); speed of his movement (endeavour) is slower than sand-clock.

The soil of which has turned like thorns (brackish) because of stinging by scorpions; where ants hunt dragons and prey scorpions.

Its wind has heat of Hell; that acts as tail wind only for Devil’s barge.

There is fire in its swirling wind; flames flare up, intermingle and multiply.

Fire that has grown bitter due to its swirling smoke, the fire which roars like thunder and rages like (rough) sea.

On its banks poisonous snakes fight each other like cobras with their hoods full of poison.

Its flames pounce like a dog that bites; extremely frightening, burn them alive and extinguish the light of their life.

Spending centuries in such horrifying desert is better than a moment of slavery.