The sun can be eclipsed by what’s a mere monade.
Shut close thy lips. Consider now the mighty sea.
By God’s command the ocean man’s meek slave must be.[387]
Ev’n as the fountains Selsabīl and Zenjabīl[388]
Are given for use of angels, Michael, Isrāfīl.[389]60
The rivers four of paradise are at our beck;
Not by our merit, but by God’s constraining check.
Where’er we will, they flow, obedient to our call;
Like magical effect, magician’s docile thrall.
So also are our eyes, those founts of sentient beams,