Many yearly rituals of Ramadan will continue even as some change in deference to our social responsibility to respect God’s laws in the universe. 

The Muslim holy month of Ramadan will be different this year. Around the world, mosques will be closed, when they would normally have worshipers spilling out onto the street. Extended families will remain apart, when they would typically gather for Iftar to break the fast and share homemade treats. And shopping malls, cafes and streets will be eerily quiet, when they would normally come alive after dark.

Ramadan still began on Thursday evening, though, and in the early hours on Friday morning, households gathered, as they have for centuries, to share a sleepy suhur — the pre-dawn meal.

Even as the world grapples with COVID-19, the yearly rituals of Ramadan will continue. Throughout the holy month, most of the world’s 1.8 billion Muslims will fast between dawn and sunset, spend time in Quranic recitation, self-reflection and prayer in an effort to become closer to God, and give thanks for our blessings. But this year, the prescribed exceptions from fasting for young children, travelers, pregnant mothers and anyone who is sick will now be extended to those feeling symptoms of COVID-19.

And this year, our prayers will include special emphasis on the health care workers, emergency workers and other essential employees who are on the front lines of the fight to protect our communities. In the eyes of God, saving human lives and benefitting humanity are most noble endeavors: The Quran likens saving a life to saving the whole of humanity, and the Prophet Muhammad (upon whom be God’s peace and blessings) says that the best of humans are those who benefit other humans.

Our obligation to help and support those in need also takes on added meaning this year as our neighbors and communities face sickness, grief, economic hardship and the loneliness of self-isolation.

Perhaps the most difficult obligation for many, though, will be forgoing the long-planned gatherings of the season, in order to comply with precautions issued by authorities. But following these measures is a duty of our citizenship and a necessity of our social responsibility to respect God’s laws in the universe. For instance, the Prophet Muhammad — whose belief and trust in God was beyond description — even advised quarantining a town in the event of an infectious disease.

Each of us should take the extra time and space afforded by the pandemic’s social distancing measures as an opportunity for further examination of our connection with God, our families and our core values. This time offers a mandatory retreat from the busy nature of our daily lives and a chance to turn toward God, deepening our faith, knowledge and practice. I hope that imams will offer reminders about these opportunities to their congregations.

This period also forces us to rely on the internet and the technologies built upon it. Our young generations have been well-versed in these technologies ahead of their parents. Throughout history, messengers of God and those who strive for the enlightenment of humanity always used the available cultural tools and practices to spread their messages. We also must take this time to connect with our communities in new ways, including making our spiritual resources accessible to younger generations using their language and their familiar technologies.

The challenges of responding to the pandemic and altering our lives might push some of us to seek people to blame or to criticize. As we enter Ramadan, it is paramount that we devote ourselves to helping those in need, rather than finding others to blame. Even as people, groups or nations with whom we have had past differences may be suffering, each of us must reject as inhumane the thought that anyone deserved a calamity.

In a globalized world, nobody is isolated from a potent problem, be it environmental, medical or economic. This is a time to share data, and to collaborate to find solutions. This is a time to realize our interdependence as nations, as communities and as inhabitants of a global ecosystem — a time to recognize that we all are members of the human family and each have the opportunity to show the true potential of humanity.

As we enter this holy month, it is crucial that we look forward with hope and not despair, which stifles people and progress. Humanity has overcome great challenges in the past, and we will find ways to overcome this challenge, too. If we focus on the opportunities this pandemic presents, we will be able to keep our spirits high and reach the end of this tunnel much quicker.

Our observance of Ramadan will necessarily be different this year. But in many ways it will be like any other year: We will fast, we will pray, we will recite our holy book and we will take time for reflection and charity throughout the holy month. May God enable us to benefit fully from the feast of bounty in Ramadan.

This article has first been published on NBC News

Translated by Alp Aslandogan, the executive director of the Alliance for Shared Values.

In an era when many parts of the world were defeated by darkness, our horizon was everywhere emblazoned with colors, and the festivals of dawn came one after another. At breakneck speed were the heralds of light, with brightest torches in their hands, calling the people to revival in every land. Those to whom they drew near found new life, as though having felt the breath of the Messiah, and the lands through which they passed turned green, as though Al-Khidr had stopped by. With one eye on this world and one fixed upon the Hereafter, these entrancing countenances were turned to Divine whilst amongst the people. Their minds and hearts were joined hand in hand in this worldly adventure. With those magical travels sometimes here and sometimes beyond, they experienced a separate festival each day.

The firmaments were interwoven and converged with this world. Our cities and villages were like the layers of the heavens. We imagined journeying across these heavenly layers as if on land, from continent to continent. We were like children as our days and nights passed with the sweetest of dreams. We felt our existence anew with each dawn and sunrise, and we returned to life all over once more. Breezes of Paradise forever blew in our horizon of thought, and it was as though we heard the flutter of angelic spirits above us. We lived an entire past intertwined with this day, and this day with the near and distant future. At a time when our contemporaries writhed in different crises due to the narrowness of the present, we perpetually breathed an air of tranquility and joy, as though strolling across the spacious and relief-laden slopes of Paradise.

Once upon a time, our magical world was like the wellspring of life of the earth and the heart of the heavens.

In this world forever agleam with lights from eternity were our villages and cities dazzling with their celestial profundities and our glistening homes resembling a bridal chamber. In this world, the rose was reconciled with the thorn, the cat side by side with the pigeon, the nightingale friends with the magpie; everything oscillated so deeply while singing the song of eternity. In everything we saw and heard we straightened ourselves and rose up once again: as if having received the sound of the Trumpet of Resurrection, took to walking toward the Divine at an even greater pace, and felt as though our roads reached all the way to the heavens. Especially for the luminous souls who have attained the happiness of walking along the trajectory of a life of the heart and spirit, living in this world was a privilege, so to speak.

With the sounds of the call to prayer, a call to eternity at each dawn, we experienced a new resurrection and felt the faith with the freshness of the day it was first revealed from the heavens, feelings refreshed, hearts wakeful to the utmost, and our spirits neck and neck with the angels. It was as if we could see the smiling countenance of the Infinite Light, peace be upon him, just a few steps ahead and stood dazed with reverence. Our thoughts were as profound as to project to the beyond, evaluated life with the gravity of the angels, and spent every moment like hearts familiar with God.

Our magical world back then was like the wellspring of life of the earth and the heart of the heavens; this heart constantly proclaimed the Almighty with its rhythmic beating, and with its living and inanimate accessories it offered us unimaginable surprises reminiscent of the beauties of Paradise. Everywhere was aglow; looking to our surrounds, we felt the dazzling magnificence of the world beyond in the face of existence and creation.

Our nights always passed with the luminosity of a “daybreak” while our days were as bright as the slopes of the highest level in Paradise. The atmosphere hanging over us and the natural landscape it encircled were refulgent, as was spring, summer, autumn, winter, and indeed all creation. In this colorful climate, we always asked for that which surpassed our will by means of our supplication and entreaties and incessantly mumbled utterances that would please Him. With feelings alive and our hearts quivering like the lowest note struck, we always presented to Him melodies with a different tune each time! The lamentations breaking loose from our hearts from time to time and rising from our bosoms ascended like the heartfelt cries of Prophet Jacob, and the winds blew with the fragrance from the shirt of Prophet Joseph, peace be upon them. All around, the sugar-sweet words were woven with pure feelings, and accompanied with deeds of righteousness. These “good words” (Qur’an 14:24) rose to the best of their “dew points,” and then poured back upon us as another form of Divine favor.  Those days were the days promised to the believers, those places were places from the Ka’ba and Mount Sinai, and we were the auspicious inheritors of the earth.

Then, the day came when the ruthless assaults of the enemies combined with the disloyalty of friends, and we were no longer able to stand where we once stood. We experienced tremors one after another and thus toppled over suddenly. Who knows, perhaps if we had not been subjected to all those betrayals, this world would have continued to bedazzle until the end of time with its own particular beauty.

Then, the day came when the ruthless assaults of the enemies combined with the disloyalty of friends, and we were no longer able to stand where we once stood. 

It is a great pity that in an inauspicious age, all the lights of this luminous world were ravaged, the hands holding the torches broken, the mouths speaking the truth gagged, and a group of monstrous souls sat upon our life springs. The sun no longer rose with its own color. In the shadow of the stains upon its countenance, the moon was like a poor creature, and the earth had taken on the form of an arena of savagery where malicious demons ran wild. The damage had been done and no longer were the roses with which we were familiar blossoming, nor the flowers diffusing their fragrance to their surrounds, nor the nightingales singing. Replacing the people showering smiles upon their surroundings with serenity and jubilation were dark-spirited night demons who were overwhelmed by hatred, rancor, and enmity, and dejected souls growling with wrath. It seemed as though all people of heart and spirit had dissolved into thin air, along with that luminous era. Villages and towns were abandoned and our minds were as empty of spirit, meaning, and respect for our own values, as were the plains and prairies of life.

The masses were dead on their feet as though subjected to an illusion, those holding the reins in their hands were in pursuit of a different fantasy each day, people scattering helter-skelter away from their own values, and disorder on the societal scale was experienced. There was no respect left for the family tree, nor regard for its fruit; axes hacked away at the tree’s roots and our thousand-year legacy was cast away to the scrapheap just to spite our forebears. Hypocrisy was popularized and dissension reverberated in all quarters. Deception was considered prowess and subterfuge, in the hands of its professionals, witnessed its golden age in favor of besmirching the believers. Deviators were wilier and quicker than ever before; on the contrary, many of the believers were worship-weary, service-spent, and addicts of rewards, and matters requiring patience, determination, sacrifice, and resolve had of course been entrusted to extraordinary occurrences. As a matter of fact, how many people believing in extraordinary manifestations had actually remained, God knows!

Considering our recent history, was it at all possible for us to get back up on our feet and pull ourselves together as a society facing such a degree of disarray? Were we going to be able to stand on our own feet once more as ourselves? It was very difficult to say anything positive with respect to the apparent causes; however, for believing hearts, causes were not everything. After all, what could not happen when God manifested His Favor! How many times humanity had encountered surprise springs until the present day, at the very moment when they fell defeated to sleet and snow. How many times they had witnessed “coolness and peace” (Qur’an 21:69) in the bosom of the most formidable infernos. Each and every time humanity turned to the door to which they needed to turn with faithfulness, confided and expounded their troubles to Him, the death pits in which they found themselves were transformed into ramps of elevation and at a stretch, in the very same breath, reached peaks that had hitherto appeared unattainable. Why could it not happen once more!

Indeed, no one who had turned to Him sincerely until now had ever come away empty-handed, and there were none amongst those remaining independent of Him who had been delivered. Thus, with all these considerations at the present time, our faces are darkened, but our hearts tremble. Fixing our hopes on the vastness of His mercy, confiding our inadequacy, inconsistency, and of course our helplessness to Him, we ask that He enable us to reach a fresh phase of revival with a brand-new celestial calendar and entrust our hopes and aspirations to His favor.

To find a way out

Toward that which it seeks and longs for

Travels with the hope of recovering what is lost

Travels from the reason to the heart

To bereft of power

To distinguish the hopeful

from among the hopeless causes

There’s a cold war between realities and imaginings

Dawn comes in dreams

When everything turns pale in the dead hours of the night

Dawn comes in dreams

Dreams are always vivid

Full of color

There when a man looks deep

Into unfathomed oceans

Beholds the past

The far future and what is near to come

What is old about to be replaced or renewed?

Dawn comes in dreams

When realities are too dark to endure

Dawn comes in dreams

In darkness a man suffers

The extreme of loneliness

When mouths are tight-lipped

As if zip-fastened

He wishes to sprout wings and fly

To the realms beyond and fly

Dawn comes in dreams

When events begin to drive me to give up hope

Dawn comes in dreams

In company of al Khadr, plunging into secrets

Brilliant young people with countenances of gold

Surrounded by descending sparkling lights

Enraptured with the heavenly potion imbibed

With eyes revealing the secret attained

Their stormy vigor never exhausted

With hearts of steel, never afraid or shrinking

The entire world knows them, lauding their lands and towns

conquering charm mysteriously marks their faces

Equivalent to a genius, each brilliant mind

Waiting for a blessed dawn,

A dawn whose rooster has crowed

It is usually easy to associate with people from one’s own culture. Why step out of your comfort zone to extend a friendly hand to someone from a different culture? Perhaps, if my experience is typical, to enjoy one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. This opportunity is readily available to Americans who wish to make the effort. To interact successfully with Turkish students and professionals in America, for example, the American host must navigate differing perceptions of family, society, and ultimate duty. By practicing role reversal, a person of goodwill can overcome the barriers of language, religion, and nationality. Allow the person getting help to become a helper, and the student to become a teacher. Take into consideration the enthusiasm many cultures have for personal relationships. You might find your own life changed for the better.

Turning the tables to build intercultural friendships

Americans in university cities can build lifelong friendships with sojourners from around the world. Year after year, bright and ambitious young people leave other countries to acquire an American degree, make American friends, and soak up a culture and language very different from their own. They have traveled halfway around the world to meet us. Traveling a few miles across the city is a small step by comparison, but the rewards are great.

My adventure in trans-cultural friendship combined a personal interest in the Turkish language and culture with a graduate-school class. I analyzed interactions with Turkish sojourners in several different settings, wrote a scholarly paper, and completed the class. My family also made lifelong friendships with fascinating people. Much that we learned can be applied in other contexts.

Edward T. Hall describes Turkey as a “high context” culture, and America as ““low context.” In Turkey, much more time is devoted to developing the relationships behind transactions than to the transactions themselves (Friedman, 1979, pp. 45–54). Relationships, connections, and group harmony are the important values. The validity of the group is more important than individual rectitude.

Given these insights, it would appear that an American wishing to establish rapport with Turkish sojourners should understand the basic elements of Turkish culture. Beyond this, the technique of “turning the tables” has value. Create a situation in which the guest can function as a host, the student as a teacher, the outsider as the portal to an alternate inside.

First adventure

In August 2004, I went to a local university to meet a “language partner.” Picture a casually dressed, fifty-something man walking through the parking lot with an elegant young woman. The director of the language partners program introduces them, gives them a list of suggested activities, and leaves it to them to make further arrangements.

“Dawn” is an engineer who wants help with her colloquial English. The fifty-something man wants to learn Turkish. Each wants to see the world through the eyes of the other culture.

The two arranged a first meeting in a wide-open public place-the university’s student union. They brought notebooks. He brought a Turkish elementary-school primer. They sat on adjacent chairs and practiced reading aloud.

On the second meeting, in the same place, Dawn introduced her husband “Freedom.” The researcher and Freedom chatted for a few minutes, discussing common interests in history and politics. The researcher apparently passed the test, since the couple extended an invitation to continue the lessons at their apartment.

When you are invited into a Turkish home, the researcher had learned, expect to be served food and drink, and be sure to bring a small gift. With this in mind, he purchased a book at a used bookstore. He knocked on the door, greeted the couple, and stepped in. Freedom reminded him to leave his shoes at the door. The three chatted for a few minutes about history and politics, Dawn served tea and cookies, and they began doing language work.

This established the pattern the visits followed over the next eighteen months. The American would speak to Freedom first, discussing Freedom’s academic progress. He would present them with a small gift, usually an inexpensive but thoughtfully chosen book. Dawn would serve tea and a snack of some kind-baklava, spinach cake, yaprak dolmasi (stuffed grape leaves), and so on. The language partners would work together on their parallel projects while the husband was in the apartment. Week by week, I made progress in my Turkish textbook.

Since I am a professional writer, I also proofread Freedom’s scholarly papers for colloquial correctness. Towards the end of the experience, I also helped Dawn translate three affidavits into clear English.

A few months into the adventure, the researcher invited his young friends over for a Thanksgiving dinner. The Turkish couple brought a bouquet of roses. Dawn brought a pair of fluffy slippers in a grocery bag to wear while visiting, which greatly fascinated the American six-year-old daughter. The families ate together, then sat in the living room and talked while the six- and eight-year-old girls frolicked. The guests enjoyed being around children.

Some time later, Freedom and Dawn invited the researcher’s family to their apartment for an iftar, the formal after-sunset feast held during Ramadan. That year, at the end of Ramadan, the researcher’s family had their friends over for a Bayram (Eid) dinner. Over the course of the project, the researcher had the Turkish couple over for dinner several times, and invited them to attend his daughter’s wedding as valued friends of the family.

Towards the end of Freedom’s master’s degree program, Dawn got a job translating for a Turkish family that had come to the USA seeking specialized medical care for their thirteen-year-old son. Dawn introduced the researcher to this family so that he could continue his informal self-study of Turkish. In May of 2006, Freedom completed his degree program, and the couple returned to Turkey.

I e-mailed them nearly twice as often as they e-mailed me (142 to 74). Fifty-one times, these exchanges involved the kind of practical help that a native speaker of English can offer someone whose native language lies completely outside of the Indo-European family.

These numbers are not asymmetric when weighed against the fact that I was a guest in their apartment approximately sixty times, and received from them the coaching I needed to acquire a rudimentary knowledge of Turkish.

Another goal of the encounters, to foster mutual understanding, was also apparently reached. In an e-mail from Turkey several months after their return Dawn wrote:

“Turkish people are religious people (of course not all of them but the majority). I saw the same thing in the USA. From the cinema and TV shows we watch through TV, American people seem like they don’t care about religion and they are very free about what they do in their lives. I think in real life it is not like that. As I see in your family, you care about your family very much and you try to teach your children about what is important in life for you. I think it is the same in Turkey.” (Gençer, 2006)

Second adventure

A second adventure in acculturation involved a Turkish family sojourning in the USA to seek medical care for a seriously ill son. The project began when Dawn introduced everyone at the clinic lounge. Later social encounters included picnics, and a series of language exercises at the hospital cafeteria.

The “Smith” family consisted of “Henry,” the father. “Margaret,” the mother. “Janet,” a seventeen-year-old daughter, and “Eric,” a son who had his thirteenth birthday while in a sterile ward of the hospital, undergoing bone marrow transplant therapy.

I met the family through Dawn, who had found work as a translator for the Smiths, helping them in their dealings with medical personnel. At one highly stressful point in their sojourn, the daughter’s student visa was revoked. Janet had curtailed her exchange student activities to find the university-connected health center, whose services offered the last hope of saving her brother’s life. As she was the only member of the family comfortable with the English language, Janet was needed at the hospital. Furthermore, Eric had only consented to the painful course of treatment because that ordeal gave him the opportunity to spend time with his beloved sister.

While Janet’s visa situation was being negotiated, she, Henry, and Margaret composed affidavits to plead their case. Dawn translated these into English, to the best of her ability, and asked for my help with a final edit.

At the initial meeting, following Dawn’s directions, I found the fourth-floor children’s lounge. Dawn took me in through the airlock, and explained how to put on the disposable overshoes. We went to Eric’s room. He was seated in his bed wearing pajamas and playing a video game. Janet, the big sister, was also present. Dawn and the parents, Henry and Margaret, escorted me to a visitor’s lounge.

We sat around a table, they offered me some donuts, and we conversed. Henry and Janet had an apartment near the hospital, but Margaret spent every night with her son in the hospital room. Dawn explained that American hospital personnel do not understand the intensity of the family bond in Turkish families. Apparently, it would be unthinkable for a Turkish mother to leave a dangerously ill child in the care of strangers overnight. She slept in an overstuffed chair in the room.

Janet’s visa problems were resolved, and I had banked some good will for my earlier efforts on their behalf. They were glad to hear that our church was praying for their son’s healing. After all, Margaret explained through Dawn, Christians and Muslims worship the same God.

I brought a few small presents, including a book of handy English phrases, listed with their Turkish equivalents, and the English repeated phonetically in the Turkish alphabet.

The Turkish tutorial sessions began in June 2006, and lasted almost six months. For our first tutorial session, Henry greeted me with a smile, and led me to the first-floor cafeteria. He was cleanly dressed, but looked as though he had missed shaving that day. I used an unobtrusive digital voice recorder to record the lessons. A continuous buzz of background conversation can be heard on the recording. Henry brought out several sheets of neatly hand-written Turkish sentences, and a brief essay describing his situation. The bulk of the conversation consisted of discussing the prepared lesson. I heard myself on tape frequently interrupting, and interjecting encouraging words (Yes! Yes!) and attempts at Turkish repartee. Henry spoke carefully, slowly, with frequent backtracking and repetition.

After we had talked for a bit over an hour, Henry asked, “Is that OK for today?”

“I’ve learned a little sentence in Turkish that goes like this: Affedersiniz. Kaybolduk. Bana yardým eder misiniz?” I answered. (Excuse me. I’m lost. Can you help me?) He laughed, I turned off the recorder, and we made arrangements to meet the next week.

Time after time, when we settled down to talk, Henry’s careful preparations guided the remainder of the conversation. He was in charge, genial, and seemed to take pleasure in imparting information, in helping.

We exchanged frequent e-mails to set up or cancel our meetings. Henry spent at least five times as long coaching my Turkish as I did his English. In part, this was because his English is much better than my Turkish.

Twice, Henry accepted an invitation to attend a picnic-one on the Fourth of July, sponsored by my church, the other a few weeks later sponsored by the Divan Cultural Center, a Cary, NC organization dedicated to fostering Turkish–American friendship. Both times, he and Margaret seemed to enjoy themselves, and delight in the opportunity to interact with other adults.

Even under conditions of weariness and extreme personal stress, this Turkish professional, a government-employed engineer, was unfailingly polite, and seemed to genuinely enjoy interacting with a sympathetic American. The format of becoming a tutor, a mentor, apparently provided a space of mastery during a time of uncertainty and anxiety.

Henry maintained control of the conversations, staying on the sure ground of a topic he knew well, the Turkish language. Although I was able to buy him a beverage once, he was careful to not let that happen again. When he attended a Fourth of July picnic sponsored by our church, he brought us a gift bag of imported delicacies. When he came to the Divan Cultural Center picnic, he timed his arrival to be after the food had already been mostly consumed. He was apparently wary of incurring asymmetrical obligations.

Conclusions

My family has “adopted” another young Turkish couple. This ongoing project involves several issues. How can an American establish rapport with people from a different nation, linguistic family, and religion? What can he learn once the rapport is established?

The technique of “turning the tables” helped insights and perspectives to cross the boundaries. By becoming a student of the Turkish language, I allowed people who were immersed in an alien linguistic environment to feel at home, and to talk about a topic they knew very well. By demonstrating a sincere interest in, and respect for, their home culture, I helped them to feel at home in my culture. By fulfilling the Turkish expectations of guests, I helped guests in my country to fulfill the satisfying role of hosts.

The first project demonstrates the progress of a mutually satisfying and symmetrical relationship with a Turkish family over the course of nearly two years.

The second project demonstrates how important control can be to a Turkish sojourner whose life has been shaped by traumatic events beyond his control. Although Henry often looked tired, he was always punctual and fully engaged in our conversations. The heart of each encounter consisted of animated conversation in simplified English and Turkish, a great deal of laughter, and a sense of delight in being able to make ourselves clear to one another in the other’s language.

What insights were conveyed over the bridges thus built? To some extent, Turkish sojourners and immigrants do indeed bring with them “differing perceptions of family, society, and ultimate duty.” For example, to avoid offending Turkish sensibilities, the wise westerner avoids extended contact with someone of the opposite sex unless the other party’s spouse is also present.

The longing all respondents expressed was for Americans to think beyond their own culture, and to take an interest in the different lives of people in other parts of the world. Given the Turkish enthusiasm for personal relationships, a small effort by a citizen of the United States can dramatically aid cultural understanding in both directions.

Thomas C. Smedley, MS, is a student at Regent University pursuing a doctorate in Communication Research. He is a technical writer with a special interest in building bridges between disparate communities – programmers and end users, Americans and Turks.

References

• Berry, J., Kim, U., Minde, T. and Mok, D. (1987, Autumn). Comparative Studies of Acculturative Stress. International Migration Review. 21-3, 491-511
• Gençer, N. (2005). Personal conversation.
• Gudykunst, W. & Ting-Toomey, S. (1988). Culture and Interpersonal Communication. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications, Inc.
• Teske, R. and Nelson, B. (1974, May). Acculturation and Assimilation: A Clarification. American Ethnologist. 1-2, 351-367.
• Weinstock, S. (1963, June). Role Elements: A Link between Acculturation and Occupational Status. The British Journal of Sociology. 14-2, 144-149.

expressing joy and grief, hope and despair.

When consumed with pangs of separation, melting like candle,

man breathes in tears and speaks in tears.

A time comes when man rejoices child-like with tears of joy,

as he sees dawn begin to break all over the world.

At another time he burns with inward sorrow, like a furnace,

when his horizons are clouded over with grief.

Tears are water of life putting out fires,

A membrane protective against the fire of Hell.

By tears ideals find their realization in the outer world;

by tears the arid world changes into gardens.

An eye sincerely tearful is like an eye vigilant at the front.

Eyes shedding tears for god’s sake do not see Hellfire.

The shedding of tears sounds the depths of desire.

Only they perceive this who sense god inwardly.

I am always gloomy with sorrowful tidings;

My loved ones are ‘flying away’ one after another.

My feelings are hurt, my eyes filled with tears,

Springs come only to terminate in autumn!

Life means hardship, and when you reach fifty-five,

desires are no more; ambitions fall like yellow leaves;

limbs and organs become enfeebled for the unknown end,

and you feel the last stop is only a little way ahead.

On the horizon is either blood or an eternal light,

towards which believing souls walk without pausing;

whatever is promised-happy or unhappy-will be revealed:

some faces pitch-dark, and others bright with joy.

I am utterly at a loss, my head between my hands,

for fear that my flowers of hope should be frost-bitten;

I do not know how near I am to the final end,

but feel my spirit whispering to the Angel of Death.

We are, all together, on a way surrendered

to the music of eternity, with our spirits

like butterflies flying upward to eternity,

and yielding to the most pleasant of declines.

The spirit, like a flute, weeps bitterly a whole lifetime;

neither its exile nor period of vanishing comes to an end….

It travels ceaselessly in crazy pursuit of Him, with eyes

strained by sorrows of separation and a heart beating fast.

***

Shed tears, O eyes, so that the sun may rise and set

over the streams formed of the tears you let fall!

Weep so that ‘Niles’ may flow in valleys, and fires enveloping Abraham

may be put out, and spells broken with the Staff of truth!

Weep so that the mountain said to surround the world may sunder

and water of life gush therefrom, and the dead be revived;

Weep so that the chains around the will may be broken,

and the cavalry of dawn come galloping one after the other!