In a world where right is equated with might, we must learn that what is truly right is pursuing basic human rights and dignity for all.

The highest ideal of human life is an individual elevating to unite with their soul, reaching radiant metaphysical realms, having divine secrets divulged to them, and attaining spiritual pleasures. A soul that takes wing toward this lofty ideal is always happy, and every endeavor made in this direction is internally enlightening and laudable; a person who targets such a life is virtuous, and the land of such people is a land of virtue.

The belief that humanity is nothing more than an animal species has done enormous harm to humanity. This thought first destroyed an individual’s desire for elevating their soul and then closed up the roads that take them to true virtue. And by reducing humanity into swarms of bugs, it deprived them of the comprehension and will to look into and supervise themselves.

According to this understanding, it is perfectly normal and necessary for the strong to destroy the weak, and for those who cannot fight back to be exterminated. When this understanding, which was derived from the idea of natural selection, was applied to human communities, it demolished the feeling of respect for general rights; it made “might” more oppressive; and by accepting unlimited animal freedom as a foundation, it reduced humanity to the level of other creatures. According to this wrong understanding, what was right-with all its aspects-depended on might. This meant that whoever had a strong body or fist, whoever had the better command of written or spoken expression, or whoever had good relations with the upper level of society, were viewed as being right and were even praised. And whoever was weak, whoever lacked power, financial means, and sycophancy – they were always mistreated and scorned.

In the meantime, notions such as the might of the soul, might of the right, and might of belief were erased from memory, in an effort to make younger generations oblivious to them. This situation put the truth and the followers of truth in a weak position before the oppressive powers and humiliated. Lowly considerations of gratifying carnal desires and the sole pursuit of personal pleasures and benefits seized souls completely, and this turned people of faith into a plaything for oppressors. The hungry wolf was respected by society, and he, in return, expected those walking corpses to pay tribute to him.

In the past centuries, the mansions of oppressors were surrounded by circles of people who, for the sake of seeking benefits, accepted being disgraced and despised, and at the same time, flattered their oppressors. Hence, there emerged queues of those who worshipped worldly power. And today as well, might still holds the upper hand, and the right and the rightful are within the grasp of that hand. The only difference is that an oppressive minority has come down and oppression has been widely distributed.

In the past, oppression and cruelty came from a few individuals; the masses are now the oppressors. Instead of the cruel individuals of the past, there are networks of cruelty all around. Nowadays, they cheerfully show up in society, revealing their ill-fated and debauched faces. During this festivity, neither the cry of the oppressed is heard, nor does anybody speak up.

Almost all of these things appeared for the first time when the notion of “right” and the understanding of freedom began to be abused. Then these views spread all over the world under the guardianship of the “industrial revolution” and the resulting technology. Thanks to the non-developed countries’ excessive love and interest for science and technology, these views were welcomed almost everywhere. Thus, the yearning for science and technology degenerated into a terrible open-door policy. Now, everything was taken in; everything was affirmed without asking for a password, without considering whether it suited the nature of that nation-particularly things that harm the social body. After this, people went astray, driven by loose morals, and they competed to deceive and oppress. Might is the only ruler; freedom is an oft-repeated pretext for every kind of corruption…

According to this new philosophy, traders can sell their goods at any price they wish. People have the freedom to hoard goods and sell them when the time comes, and to travel to lands where their ancestors marched in honor, pursuing any ignominious purpose. The media knows no limit in deprivation of character and conveys illicit content to the most remote corners – and they claim to do it to disseminate knowledge. Their publications that are audio-visually charming assail sound thinking, faith, and language; the youth are free to give way to chaos by disregarding every kind of lofty feeling and value; those who abuse religious feelings and thoughts are free to expect some benefit in return for their mumblings… how free, rightful, and wise they are, aren’t they? O freedom, how cruel do you become when abused to allow every kind of corruption!

According to the thought which has taken most of humanity within its grasp today, a good doctor is one who discovers the way to attract many patients to his personal office; a good lawyer is one who speaks for the interests of anyone-rightful or not; a good engineer or architect is one who draws projects to fill his pockets, deprived of scientific morality and a feeling of responsibility; a good singer is one who uses his or her voice to abuse the pure feelings of the people, and so on…

On the other hand, the lofty souls who observe others’ rights as well as their own, and who live for virtue, are viewed as stupid and unwise! In such a world, everything is related to a material purpose, and it is natural and inevitable that human communities and notions of humanity are replaced by a group of animals, by an understanding of humanity based on materialism and sensuality, and the belief that human values and the true notion of right will be forgotten. However, a happy future for humanity seems possible by giving due value to truth, saving it from the transgression of falsehood, taking animal freedom under control, backing the freedom of those who think, strive, live for others, and present the fruits of their lives to society before they depart from this world, making them live “forever.”

We do not wish to see humans act as slaves to carnal desires, getting more miserable every passing day with lowly feelings. We wish to see the faces who have reached inner tranquility by being servants to the Truth, those who kept away from the dark and dirty affairs of oppressors, the pure faces which reflect heavenly beauties on their foreheads. We consider these faces crystallized in colorful lines-by faith and hope, by service and joy, by love and humanity-as the guardian angels of this blissful world, and we applaud them.

How laudable are these people in service of Truth, who have been purified while flowing toward eternity, who smile at their fortune with gratitude, and who seek the Creator-the source of all beauties-through the tongue of the fish in the ocean and the gazelle on the plain, and who are enraptured with the pledge of eternity!

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

With fire in their hearts and a blissful composure

They take everywhere armfuls of peace

Inside their eyes dews of infinity appear

The luminous riders, divine light on their faces

Like censers giving off fragrance all around

Leaving wisps behind, everywhere they pass

Offering the secrets of eternity to the world

Never-fading values in their thoughts

Like censers, giving off fragrance all around

In their gardens, like a legendary land

Springs of Paradise pour from crystal fountains

In their evergreen realm where no fall is seen

Everyday a new spring, everyday new blooms

In their gardens, like a legendary land

Angels hover in their horizons at each moment

They breathe the same air as heavenly spirits

Skies open their arms, constellations stand in salute

With their inner worlds like bays of Paradise

Angels hover in their horizons at each moment.

Once you realize these things about you and the life that you are living, then it really sounds outrageous when people think they have made a good work of art or they have great taste in art. Could it not be that all people have the same taste but only each individual’s perception is different, as opposed to all people having the same level of perception but different taste?

Most people think that taste is something subjective, that is, everybody has their own taste and that is the end of it. There is nothing more to discuss about taste. Hence, there is no such thing as good taste or bad. Everybody has things they like and things they do not, but no one can say that their taste is any better than someone else’s. Thus, we are all tempted to accept the unquestionable character of taste as the truth since almost everybody agrees on it. Although the majority view is often considered acceptable as a way of ascertaining the truth, there are quite a few examples that show that is just not correct. This article is about one of those examples.

If you are part of the big majority of people that thinks there is no such thing as good taste, you should also think that there is no such thing as good art. I can imagine if I was giving a talk about this article and presenting this exact same argument, there would be fifty hands going up objecting: “That can’t be true; there is Mona Lisa, there is Tortoise Trainer, there is this, and there is that.” But then, whoever did not like Mona Lisa or Tortoise Trainer would just have worse taste than yours, or anybody else who liked it might have better taste for that matter. Hence, we arrive at the conclusion that if there is no good taste, then there is no good art. If we follow the argument further, then there is no good artist.

Suppose you are making a painting or writing a poem, what do you think would be guiding you throughout the whole process? The inevitable answer to this question must be “taste” because each stroke of your brush or each line you add is a decision made by you with the help of your taste. Every move you make is a result of your conscious or subconscious thought that it would make your piece better. But then, if you think that there is no place for a concept of being better in art, you should not be able to make any moves. Not only that, by the same token a brand new blank canvas would be just as good as the ceiling of the Hagia Sophia. What is more, by saving a lot of time and energy, you are doing even better with the blank canvas than the guy who painted the ceiling of Hagia Sophia.

Probably you are thinking that the author of these lines has really lost it now! And maybe, you are thinking that it is about time to move on to the next article. But hold on a second!

I think I may have a solution to this nonsense. If Da Vinci was in Robinson Crusoe’s place, he would still draw the Mona Lisa on that island, but surely, he would be happier if thousands of people came to see it every day. So, there is more to art than pure taste; art has people who appreciate it. It could be argued that an artist enjoys his piece for two possible reasons. First, just because he likes what he does; second, there is an audience who will appreciate what he does.

But before appreciation come attention and interest. People must pay attention or need to have an interest before they understand or even think about something. Only after that do they recognize something is beautiful, and after that comes the appreciation.

Attention and interest are two very broad terms. There are so many different things that attract my attention or interest me, often without me knowing it. Sometimes the rhyme of a poem is so soothing and pleasant that I do not even know, when I read it the first time, that I have actually fallen in love with it. I realize this when I figure out that I have learned the whole thing after a few recitations without expending any special effort to memorize it. It is as if, all of a sudden, I start hearing the constant relaxing whistle of a tall reed in my ears along with the wind. It is a great pleasure to fall asleep in the ambiance of that reed. The bed is no different than a throne for me at that moment.

Once I discover such a lone reed with a soothing melody, I visit her from time to time when I get really tired and need some rest. Then, on one of those visits, just before I fall asleep, I see a ray of a different color through the leaves of the reed; one which I had not noticed before. It is an irreplaceable touch. Surely the poet must have hidden it among the leaves and the branches only for his loyal visitors. Exhilarated by the discovery of this beauty, I start telling the fellows in the shade around me about it. I hear you saying now, “Oh! I thought you were alone under the tree.” No, no! That is impossible. If there is a reed, there will always be fellows under the shade, some for the whistle, some for the colors, some for something you do not know, but there will be always some people enjoying it.

I tell you the little story about me and the poet just to make a point about the type of art that intrigues us. Some art lies in the background quietly, some shakes our very souls and makes us tremble. Some gets carved into our brains immediately, whereas some types challenge our intelligence. In all of those different kinds of good art there is a very essential thing in common. It is the common things that the audience shares.

Although poetry is a type of art with a very broad audience, we can always imagine some people who would have no interest in it at all. Maybe a better example would be a type of beauty that would interest absolutely everybody in this world. Is there anything like that? There are tons of things like that. Who would not like a nightingale singing near dawn, or a warm breeze on the cheek, the harmony of different tones of green in a broad forest, human faces, and the like. Let us focus, for example, on that last one. All of us find human faces interesting, right? I believe that it is encoded in our DNA. A parallel to this is the obsessive compulsion of sculptors to make human faces all the time. Or, think about the number of people whose faces you know but not their names and vice versa. Which number is bigger do you think?

If you are not convinced by these arguments or think that maybe I am biased due to the conditions that I developed in, let us put the same question to babies, who are not biased, at least not just yet! Let us see what they have got to say about this. If you are worried that we cannot really understand what they are saying, there is some help from the psychologists. “In 1961, the psychologist Robert Fantz devised an ingenious method to find out about babies and faces. He designed a stand in which, on the bottom level, the baby lies on his back, looking up. A few feet above is a display area where the experimenter puts two large cards, each containing a design-a white circle, a yellow circle, a bull’s eye, or a simple sketch of face. The researcher, peering down through a tiny peephole, can watch the movement of the baby’s eyes and time how long they are directed at one or the other of each pair of patterns. Fantz found that at two months babies looked twice as long at a bull’s eye as at a circle of solid color, and twice as long at a sketch of a face as at a bull’s eye. Evidently, even a two-month-old can distinguish major differences and direct his gaze toward what he finds more interesting.”¹

With this in mind, we are compelled to acknowledge that the human face appeals to an innate common taste in all humans, either because it is beautiful in itself or because it contains most, if not all, of the things that are to “the common taste” of all humans. Then we can conclude that, as humans, our design is such that we are at least able to appreciate the same things.

Finally, we are in a position to define good art. Good art is such that it passes from its creator and reaches a lot of people who enjoy gazing upon it. Good art attracts attention and interest from a lot of people with different characteristics from different cultures and regardless of all their differences, the essential thing is they all have the same aptitude to enjoy the same thing in various different ways. In other words, good art is a manifestation of unity in multiplicity.

_______________________

1. Hunt, M., The Story of Psychology, pp. 366, Anchor Books, 1993

The road, although not very long, took her back in time by a fast train of memories. She remembered how her newborn son had caught his dad’s finger in an unbreakable grip as he was whispering the call to prayer to his little ear. She saw her son waddling his first steps and her husband clapping his hands for joy. Every curve of the road took her to another stage. His first day in kindergarten was unforgettable. Seeing him walk in line behind the teacher had made hide her tears behind her husband. Separation, though a short one, had been hard to bear. Then she saw herself sitting on the sofa by her son’s side, teaching him how to read the Holy Book. She remembered her son’s excitement when she told him the prophetic tradition that the parents of those people who read the Qur’an a lot in this world would have shiny faces on the Day of Judgment. “Mommy,” he said, taking her face between his hands, “You and daddy will have the shiniest faces of all people, I promise.” Aisha had laughed at his genuine promise and kissed his head many times. One of the memories she cherished most was going on a bug hunt with him, to return home with a jar full of creepy crawlies for his science project. Her son had been fascinated to see all the different shapes and colors of life around him. She had reminded him to be respectful to every creature. She once overheard him pray to God to grant him a flying dinosaur in paradise. Aisha caught herself smiling in the rear-view mirror. “Life is a journey,” she thought. “My son reached the destination and he is waiting for us. O God, please reunite us in your paradise and give us patience meanwhile,” she prayed.

She parked the car in the graveyard’s little parking lot. Aisha took her copy of the Qur’an and got out, not minding the cold at all. “It is always so quiet here,” she thought. “I can even hear my own heartbeat.” She stopped by her son’s grave, bent over to touch the ground, and felt the knot in her chest tie up again. “Now, now, hold strong,” she ordered her heart. “It’s just a temporary separation. Just like in kindergarten, only a lot longer. O God, I am thankful for my faith in You. How would I have endured all this pain had I not known You will raise the dead and then everyone will be with their beloved forever. Thank you, thank you very much,” she whispered, feeling the knot loosen. She opened her copy of the Qur’an and started reading the chapter “The Merciful.” The first time she read it in this graveyard, it sounded as if it was being read from heaven. One verse repeated thirty-one times in this chapter had kept her from rebelling in her grief: “Then which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?” She had never understood its message better before. Aisha finished reading and opened her hands in prayer. “Our Lord, grant us bounties in this world and in the hereafter and save us from the torment of hell. Do not let us go astray once you have guided us to the truth and grant us mercy from Your Presence. Surely You are the Most Generous One. Amen.”

She rubbed her hands over her wet face and was preparing to go when she suddenly heard someone sobbing not too far from her. She turned to her right and saw a woman crying over a grave. Her black hair touched the ground and hid her face completely. Next to the grave, a big balloon was waving in the wind. Something was printed on it. Aisha read it and was stunned. The white letters materialized the pain of a mother’s heart: Happy birthday, son! “The grave is new. Her wound must be still bleeding,” Aisha thought to herself. “It took two years for mine to cover with a thin layer.”

Aisha went close enough for the woman to sense her presence. The woman stopped crying, looked up, and then tried to stand up, but her knees would not hold her. Aisha reached out her arm and kept the woman from falling. They looked at each other. It felt like looking in the mirror. The same tears formed traces in their faces resembling riverbeds in summer. The same longing to go back in time for one more chance to live the past could be read in every line and wrinkle. A small shiny pendant cross hanging below the woman’s chin caught Aisha’s eye. For a moment, neither spoke. Aisha looked at the cross, becoming aware that the woman was staring at her white scarf. After that short moment of bewilderment, Aisha spoke first.

“I’m Aisha. I just want to let you know that I understand how you feel.”

“You do?” asked the woman.

“Yes, I lost my only son two years ago.” Then with empathy, she added, “It’s OK to cry, and if you need a shoulder you can cry on mine.”

“But how can you…?” The woman could not finish her words as her eyes met the warmth of Aisha’s face. Then something wonderful happened that only angels witnessed. She hugged Aisha and both of them cried. The two women hugged for a long time despite the white scarf, despite the pendant cross. Had they met in a store or at gas station they might not have exchanged anything more than a wry smile, they might have thought that they belonged to different worlds. Yet here they had become indivisible in their maternal pain.

“This place helped me understand better not only my Holy Book,” thought Aisha, “but also my humanity. Praise is to you, God,” she whispered with the delight of someone who has just found a lost friend. The two women, leaning on each other, walked toward the parking lot, realizing with great surprise that the wind was not chilly anymore.

Likewise, between yesterday and today there is a thin veil that cannot hinder the spirit from passing and penetrate into yesterday and the past beyond that. Whereas, with respect to the body, this distance is so great as to require a year to travel. Also, the veils between the outer and inner dimensions of existence and between the world and the Hereafter are thin and transparent for the men of heart and spirit, while they are extremely thick for those obeying their carnal selves and bodily desires.

Similarly, between your night and day there is a fine interval, which is your “eyelid”. When you open the eye of your self, your night disappears and your day shines. If, on the other hand, you forget what you are, you fall into a permanent night. Also, whoever looks at the universe for the sake of the Almighty, whatever he witnesses becomes a (source of) knowledge for him; if he looks with a view of heedlessness and from the perspective of material or natural causes, whatever he regards as knowledge becomes sheer ignorance.

Again, between the illumination of Aya Sofya (Hagia Sophia) and its being in thick darkness at night there is a time as short as switching off the lights. The flash of lightning and its disappearance take place almost at the same instant. The darkening of the sky with dark clouds and its clearing through the removal of dark clouds from the face of the sun by a breeze of mercy happen just one after the other in a short time. One who looks and sees with the light of faith and belief in Divine Unity, sees the universe filled with light and in friendship, mutual love and affection, and all things and beings in it as amiable, living brothers. Whereas one who looks with unbelief, sees all things and beings as dreadful corpses, strangers hostile to one another. He also sees the universe in veils of darkness one above the other and himself in a deep sea covered by waves riding upon waves, above which are clouds; when he puts forth his hand, he can hardly see it.

Also, the veil between the two faces of a mirror is thinner than a leaf but there is as great a difference between them as the distance between east and west. With a movement of a finger, the mirror either smiles at you or your face is completely dark. In the same way, the deeds of man have two aspects or “faces”. The deeds done with the intention to please God provide you with a transparent face in the depth of which numberless manifestations are reflected. The lack of such intention or the deeds not done for the sake of God show the dark, opaque face which bears nothing in the name of truth.

While the dark face has no depth and can contain nothing, with the exception of occupying space the size of itself, the transparent face, because of its relation to the immaterial world of ideas or symbols can, by virtue of its transparency, contain numberless huge things. In the same way, life has two faces, the first of which relates to the world and is dark, narrow and transient, while the other relating to the Truth is transparent, broad and permanent. The heedless carnal self, under the influence of a devilish sophistry, wears the dark face but demands what is possible in the transparent face like seeking eternity.

The key of creation is in the hands of man, in his ego. Although the doors of creation seem to be open, they are actually closed. The Truth, glory be to Him, has entrusted man with a key with which all the doors of creation are opened and the treasury of the Creator is unveiled. The key entrusted to you is ego, which is itself an enigma. When you solve that enigma by knowing its nature, creation is opened to you.

God Almighty, may His Glory be exalted, has given man ego so that it should serve as a unit of comparison to understand the attributes of Divine Lordship.

When man knows what ego is, he comes to see it as fine and weak like a conscious hair in the rope of man’s existence, like a thin stripe in the cloth of man’s nature, like an alif-the first Arabic letter-in the book of the individual. It has also two faces, one turned to good, a passive recipient of God’s bounties and blessings, not the agent, the other turned to evils and non-existence and being itself agent. It has an illusory nature, imagined lordship and sovereignty, and existence as weak as not to bear anything by itself. It is to function like a thermometer or other like instrument with which things and properties are measured. It is a measure with which to know the absolute, all-en-compassing Attributes of the Necessarily-Existent Being.

Man should be well aware of this and, becoming a referent of He has indeed prospered who purifies it. (Qur’an. 91.9) fulfil what is due to the Trust he has been charged with.

If you reflect on ego as a unit of comparison to comprehend the Creator’s Attributes and Names, it becomes an eye for you to see whatever exists in the universe. The information you get from the universe finds in ego what will confirm it and make it into real knowledge. Then its claim of lordship or sovereignty and self-ownership comes to an end, and it perceives that its existence is only an illusory one. Whereas if you consider ego as having an independent existence of itself and thereby breach the Trust, you will be among those referred to in And indeed he has ruined it who stunts and spoils it (91.10) For it is ego which the heavens, the earth and mountains shrank from bearing since, with that aspect of it, ego is the source of associating partners with God, all evils and kinds of misguidance. If ego hides itself from you, it grows thick and swells until it swallows you and, with all your existence, you become an ego. Then it grows stronger with tribal and then racial fanaticism until it has become a devil contending against the commandment of its Maker. Then it likens other people and things and natural causes with itself, attributing to each self-ownership and sovereignty, and thus falls into a tremendous kind of associating partners with God. While in this state, if you move your eyes throughout the creation, everything is closed in your face just when it seems to have opened to you, for your eyes return to your self and you see everything as colored by ego. The color of ego is associating partners with God or denial of Him. Even if all the horizons were clearly filled with the most manifest signs (of the existence and Unity of the Creator), what remains in ego would be a dark point covering all those signs.

An Important matter

Ego has two faces, one represented by Prophethood, the other by human, (materialistic) philosophy.

The first face is the origin of pure servanthood to God. With this face, ego points to God, not itself, and has an illusory, dependent existence. Although it appears to be self-owning, in fact it is owned and disposed by another-God. It has a supposed, not an established, reality. Its duty is to be a measure, a unit of comparison, to understand the Attributes of the Creator. This is the reality of ego, as it was seen by the Prophets, who submitted the whole of existence to God. They affirmed and demonstrated that God has no partners at all, either in His Sovereignty or in His Lordship or Divinity. In His hand are the keys of all things and He has absolute power over all things. From this transparent face of ego, the All-Compassionate has grown a blessed tree of servanthood whose blessed branches spreading through the garden of the universe hang with clusters of fruits of Messengers, Prophets, saints, and truth-seeking, pure scholars glittering in darkness like stars.

As to philosophy, it considers ego as having an independent, self-owned existence showing to itself. Philosophers have supposed that ego has an established reality and that its duty is to be perfected through self-love. In this supposition many kinds of associating partners with God have originated and on the head of ego has grown the accursed tree of misguidance. The branch of the power of lust of this tree, which appreciates unjust might or force and physical beauty enamoured of show, has given to mankind idols deified (by their admirers) while themselves bow (before their admirers) in an attitude of adoration. The branch of the power of wrath has saddled mankind with Pharaohs and Nimrods. The branch of the power of reason has produced atheists and materialists. Philosophers attribute to God only a part of His kingdom and attribute the rest to other than the Almighty.

Although ego is essentially like air or vapor, because of the philosophers’ illomened view, it grows denser, becoming like fluid and then, because of superficial familiarity, like a solid thing. Afterwards, because of heedlessness it gets frozen and, thereafter, because of rebellion, gets stronger and swells until it swallows its owner. It becomes broader with tribal or racial attitudes and then, because of ascribing to other people and natural causes self-existence and ownership and even creativity, as it ascribes the same to itself, ego starts to contend against the commandment of its Creator. Some philosophers have felt compelled to believe that natural causes have real effect in creation and control of things, and attribute creativity to nature and chance. That is why they deny the Resurrection and accept that spirits or, as is the case with materialists, matter have no beginning. May God assail them! How perverse they are! Because of conceit, they have become playthings of devils, who have thrown them into the pits of misguidance.

Ego in the normocosmos-man-is the counterpart of nature in the macro-cosmos: both have been attributed partnership with God and therefore deified. Whoever denies false deities and believes in God, has laid hold of the most firm handle that is impossible to break. God is All-Hearing, All-Knowing. (2.256)

The law of growth operates in a tree. The seed of a tree, from which it grows, is the essence of that tree. As is known, the seed is contained by the fruit and, unless somehow impeded, it grows by eternal Favouring into the tree and again is placed in the fruit growing on that tree. The fruit is the most valuable, most esteemed, most pleasant, most important and most illustrious part of the tree, being the aim of its existence. The universe is a tree, the basic elements like earth, water, air and fire being its branches, plants its leaves, animals its flowers and mankind its fruits.

The most radiant of those fruits and the most illustrious, greatest, most beautiful, most noble, most comprehensive and most beneficial of them is the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, the master of the Messengers, the leader of the pious, and the beloved of the Lord of the Worlds. He is the commander of the “cavalry” of the Prophets and the pious ones faithful to their allegiance and promises, and the most virtuous of all creatures. He is the bearer of the standard of the greatest glory through belief in and submission to Divine Unity and the owner of the most esteemed and dignified rope through Islam. He is the witness of eternal mysteries and observer of the lights and the translator of the tongues of those preceding him. He is the source of knowledge, forbearance and wisdom. He attained the highest rank of servanthood and was distinguished with the highest morality of the purest ranks: the greatest friend of God and His most noble beloved, upon him be the most meritorious of blessings and peace so long as the heavens and earth remain.

Take my hand. O master of the Messengers,
You are the desired and sought, O man fest light of God’s Munificence;
I have no leader, no refuge, other than you.
My proof is, ‘There is no god but God and Muhammad is God’s Messenger.” 

There was a peaceful silence and was pouring light upon light

Things were being done with the precision of clockwork;

Centuries-old confusions disappeared one after the other.

All were respectful to each other and behaved in sincerity;

Water of life was flowing through taps of porphyry.

Holy ones were as if on parade with faces bright with faith

As they walked, they gave strength to our hopes.

People were busy with founding a new world;

The earth was so luminous as if to compete with the sky.

When those heroes with penetrating sight passed by me,

I came to understand that mankind were in the time promised.

I saw young men with clear signs on their faces and concluded

They were those promised to come toward the end of time

I continued my way without stopping, nor becoming tired;

I met those who had absorbed light from the ‘grand fountain’.

Some, full of gratitude, were walking arm-in-arm;

Finally all reached their destination, which is the Pure Path.

Whose hearts are as warm as the corona of the sun

Pained and worried are they for the destiny of the nation

Yet lovely as Paradise are they and as deep as eternity

Moths fly round the light of the inspired ones

On their faces radiant as mirrors

Shines the light from beyond this world…

Winds blow in their afterglow scattering a thousand kinds of fragrances

People find infinite peace in their presence,

And also on their faces radiant as mirrors

They inject a new life wherever they pass;

Soils turns to gold in their palms

Even poison changes to something sweet on their tongues…

Souls open to them one after another

They inject a new life wherever they pass

Their words, like the lamps of the Infinite, diffuse light;

Always ready to pour themselves out like rain-bearing clouds.

They boil inwardly, like volcanoes with desires of serving the nation.

Words, as precious as jewels, flow from their mouths,

And, like the lamps of the Infinite, they diffuse light.

Time is pregnant, through their enchanting ‘breaths’,

Writhing with pains of giving birth to a sacred future.

I have come to understand it will be springtime for my nation

Whose light and colour come from the other world…

Time is pregnant, through their enchanting ‘breaths’.

***

And so absorbs us we can hardly tell spring from summer;

The enchanting song of faith is on our tongues,

And in our hearts a love as deep as Majnun’s…

All who partake of our feast from us glowing like emeralds;

From all directions, downpouring Light enters our souls;

Do not suppose such blessings come from us but from the Eternal

Transcendent, in whose garden abide both lover and beloved:

Faces looking up to Him are like flowers turning toward the sun;

By virtue of that gaze, they open and grow as in springtime.

It little matters that their colour is that of silver or of rose:

What their radiance reflects is the Tincture of the Infinite.