The soul has no “dimensions;” clearly it’s displayed.
Lift thy eyes, dear Sir, in glorious light of God;
That thou be not accounted most shortsighted clod.
Thou nothing knowest or carest about, save grief and joy;
Thou nothing, by mere nothings hemmed in, man or boy.105
To-day’s a day of rain. Yet journey thou till night;
Not on account of downpour, but because it’s light.
One day did Mustafà go to the burial-ground.
The Prophet at a funeral, his friend’s, was found.
At filling in the grave he lent a helping hand;