بخش 3 - خطاب به مهر عالمتاب

O prince of the heavens! O radiant sun! —

You illuminate the depths of every particle, one by one.

It is through you that existence burns with fervor and delight —

Through you, every hidden thing longs to reveal its flight.

Your golden vessel glides through streams of silver glow —

Brighter than the hand of Moses does it show.

Your radiance bestowed the moon its gentle glow —

And gave brilliance to the ruby within the stone's hollow.

The tulip’s burning core is your gracious art —

Its veins surge with the blood your blessings impart.

The narcissus tears through a hundred veils apart —

To claim a share of the light your rays impart.

Welcome, O bearer of the morning of my desire —

You have turned every tree into Sinai's fire.

You are the light of the dawn, and I the day's end —

Ignite a lamp within my soul to mend.

Turn my darkened dust into luminous grace —

Enshroud me within your resplendent embrace.

That I may turn the night of Eastern thought to the day —

And brighten the hearts of East’s free souls along the way.

That I may, with my melody, refine the raw —

And set the course of time to a new draw.

That Eastern thought may break from the West’s control —

And take its hue and essence from my soul.

Life derives its joy from the warmth of Zikr alone —

Freedom lies in the purity of thoughts, its throne.

When a nation’s thinking begins to decay —

Pure silver in its hands turns to counterfeit clay.

Within its breast, the pure heart meets its demise —

What is straight appears crooked in its eyes.

Far from the clash and tumult of creation's strife —

His gaze perceives in stillness the essence of life.

No wave rises from his ocean’s deep tide —

His gem, like a stone, loses value and pride.

Thus, the cleansing of thought should first take its place —

For only then can its rebuilding embrace.