Sidqī.
MUNĀJĀT
Allah! Lord who liv’st for aye! O Sole! O King of Glory’s Ray!
Monarch who ne’er shalt pass away! show Thou to us Thy bounties fair.
In early morning shall our cry, our wail, mount to Thy Throne on high:
“Error and sin our wont,” we sigh: show Thou to us Thy bounties fair.
If cometh not from Thee Thy grace, evil shall all our works deface;
O Lord of Being and of Space! show Thou to us Thy bounties fair.
Creator of security! to Thy Belovèd greetings be!
These fair words are in sincerity: show Thou to us Thy bounties fair
Iqbālī sinnèd hath indeed, yet unto him Thy grace concede;
Eternal, Answerer in need! show Thou to us Thy bounties fair.
Iqbālī.
MUKHAMMES
Alas! nor dew nor smiling rose within this mead is mine;
Within this market-place nor trade nor coin for need is mine;
Nor more nor less; nor power nor strength for act or deed is mine;
Nor might nor eminence; nor balm the cure to speed is mine.
Oh, that I knew what here I am, that which indeed is mine!
Being’s the bounty of the Lord; and Life, the gift Divine;
The Breath, the present of his love; and Speech his Grace’s sign;
The Body is the pile of God; the Soul, his Breath benign;
The Powers thereof, his Glory’s trust; the Senses, his design.
Oh, that I knew what here I am, that which indeed is mine!
No work, no business of my own within this mart have I;
All Being is of him alone—no life apart have I;
No choice of entering this world, or hence of start have I;
To cry, “I am! I am!” in truth, no power of heart have I.
Oh, that I knew what here I am, that which indeed is mine!
The Earth the carpet is of Power; the Sphere, the tent of Might;
The Stars, both fixed and wandering, are Glory’s lamps of light;
The World’s the issue of the grace of Mercy’s treasures bright;
With Forms of beings is the page of Wisdom’s volume dight.
Oh, that I knew what here I am, that which indeed is mine!
Being is but a loan to us, and Life in trust we hold:
In slaves a claim to Power’s pretension arrogant and bold;
The servant’s part is by submission and obedience told;
Should He, “My slave,” address to me, ’twere favors manifold.
Oh, that I knew what here I am, that which indeed is mine!