The poet feels undeserving of a precious gift and expresses a desire for deeper faith and understanding.
What good have I done,
To deserve this dear one?
What should I in return say,
For this gem made of clay?
Even before I coin words of dhikr,
On the ground fall tears of shukr.
I now stand helplessly silent,
Content, with no complaint.
The beggar had asked
For a penny or two,
The Master gave him
A treasure full.
Sigh! You granted me
Such a ‘mercy,’
O Merciful Him!
Help me to be grateful.
I cannot believe
What my eyes saw,
I understand not
The ‘mercy’ You show.
Oh, my sweet Rabb!
I am with You
More than pleased,
You alone can
Have my pain eased.
Bring me closer
To Your Love,
Make me firm
On Your Beloved’s Law.
Every moment I secretly fear,
Deep in my mind,
Will my Rabb
His Justice over Mercy ascend?
Whom to seek refuge,
When You are in rage?
I am a wretched soul,
Leave me not in peril.
I feel blessed,
Very, very blessed.
So many tears of joy,
My soul wants to enjoy.
O Allah!
Count me not among those
Ungrateful for your favors.
Let my every drop
Express their thanks:
I may fall into
The pious ranks.
If you reveal not
The mystery of ‘mercy,’
At least open for me
The Gates of Gratitude.
Jan 16, 2004
