O Lord, to thee is never a beginning, neither end;
E'en though the value-weighing hand of Thine unbounded might
Hath wrought astounding marvels that all numbering transcend,
Yet, Lord, Thou formedst Adam in the best of symmetry;
Thou worthy of Thy grace to make this folk didst condescend.
Unfathomed and unsounded lies Thy mercy's ocean vast,
Which truly hath made earth beneath its surging waves descend:
O Lord, could any hurt or harm befall that shoreless deep,
Did Thou a single drop therefrom to this Thy servant send?
Since ‛Arif owns a Master kind in graciousness like Thee,
O Lord, before another's door were 't right for him to bend?
O Lord, thus ever doth in joy Thy blest device appear —
Thy greatest glory from the works of vileness Thou dost rear!
‛Arif (18th century) Turkey
Translated by E.J.W. Gibb
Source: Ottoman literature; the poets and poetry of Turkey by Elias John Wilkinson Gibb, M.W. Dunne, 1901
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.