“I DO not render praises unto Thee.” How is this, seeing that “all praise returns to Thee”? The threshold of Thy sanctity is too high for my praises. Thou art what Thine own praises declare Thee. O Lord, we are not able to tell Thy praises or set forth Thy glories. Whatsoever is manifested on the pages of the universe is praise reflected back to the threshold of Thy most glorious Majesty. What can faculty or tongue of mine declare worthy of Thy glory and honour? Thou art such as Thou hast Thyself declared, and the pearls of Thy praise are what Thyself hast strung.
In the vast largesse of Thy Majesty
This whole world’s but a drop from out the sea;
What power have we to celebrate Thy praise?
No praises save Thine own are meet for Thee!
Where the speaker of the words “I am the most eloquent [of the Arabs]” lowered the flag of his eloquence, and found himself impotent to render Thee fitting praises, how shall a mere stammerer venture to open his mouth or a dullard deliver an apt discourse? Nevertheless, in this case to excuse one’s self on the ground of one’s incapacity and deficiencies is itself the gravest of defects, and to put one’s self on a level with that prince of the world and of the faith would be a serious breach of propriety.
What am I? Can I count myself the peer
Of the poor dog that’s suffered to draw near?
I may not join the caravan—enough
If from afar the camel bells I hear.
O Lord, send down Thy blessing upon Muhammad, the standard-bearer of praise and possessor of “the glorious station”, and upon his family, and upon his companions who through earnest endeavour have succeeded in attaining the goal of their desire, and pour upon them all Thy perfect peace!
SUPPLICATIONS
O God, deliver us from preoccupation with worldly vanities, and show us the nature of things “as they really are”. Remove from our eyes the veil of ignorance, and show us things as they really are. Show not to us nonexistence as existent, nor cast the veil of non-existence over the beauty of existence. Make this phenomenal world the mirror to reflect the manifestations of Thy beauty, and not a veil to separate and repel us from Thee. Cause these unreal phenomena of the universe to be for us the sources of knowledge and insight, and not the cause of ignorance and blindness. Our alienation and severance from Thy beauty all proceed from ourselves. Deliver us from ourselves, and accord to us intimate knowledge of Thee.
Make my heart pure, my soul from error free,
Make tears and sighs my daily lot to be,
And lead me on Thy road away from self,
That lost to self I may draw near to Thee!
Set enmity between the world and me,
Make me averse from worldly company:
From other objects turn away my heart,
So that it be engrossed with love to Thee.
How were it, Lord, if Thou shouldst set me free
From error’s grasp and cause me truth to see?
Guebres by scores Thou makest Musulmans,
Why, then, not make a Musulman of me?
My lust for this world and the next efface,
Grant me the crown of poverty, and grace
To be partaker in Thy mysteries,
From paths that lead not towards Thee turn my face.
PREFACE
This is a treatise entitled Lawa’ih (“Flashes of Light”), explanatory of the intuitions and verities displayed on the pages of the hearts and minds of men of insight and divine knowledge, and of those who enjoy spiritual raptures and ecstasies. It is written in suitable language adorned with pleasing explanations. I trust that readers will hold of no account the personality of the author of this commentary, and will refrain from taking their seats upon the carpet of cavilling and animadversion. For the author plays only the part of interpreter in the following discussions; his sole function is that of mouthpiece, and nothing else.
Believe me, I am naught—yea, less than naught.
By naught and less than naught what can be taught?
I tell the mysteries of truth, but know
Naught save the telling to this task I brought.
For poverty to make no sign is best,
On love divine to hold one’s peace is best;
For him who never felt ecstatic joys
To play a mere reporter’s part is best.
With men of light I sought these pearls to string,
The drift of mystics’ sayings forth to bring;
Now let his trusty slaves this tribute bear
From foolish me to Hamadan’s wise king.