To be, is to be blind and blear-eyed at the most.
If blind I were not, swooned, unconscious should I be.
The Sun of Glory’s might and power then could I see.
Were not my sight grown blear, through weeping in my dreams,
Had I stood, ice-like, frozen, ’neath His mercy’s beams?
Just like his king, this Vazīr was shortsighted seen.
The Ancient, ’twas, of Days, he wrestled ’gainst, I ween.
Th’ Almighty One, who with one breath, one word, did bring
Ten thousand worlds from naught to join in being’s ring.210
Ten thousand worlds, besides, disclose themselves to sight,