English
Ode of Praise
Thanks, praise, gratitude, and honor belong to God, the Nurturer of creation, the Lord of majesty.
The Giver, who knows the unseen and guards the heavens; the Provider who cherishes His servants, the Creator who guides the way.
Both worlds testify to His oneness; He is One, and all creatures bow low at His door.
He makes jewels from hard rock, pearls from oysters, the children of Adam from clay, and rose petals from grass.
Glory to Him who gives death and gives life; there is no god but He who created the earth and the sky.
Once He brings forth a spring of water from stone; another time, in winter, He turns the spring's water to stone.
Sometimes, like a skilled makeup artist, He paints the day's fair face with the blush of dawn and the kohl of darkness.
His is the sea of grace; if not, what is a cloud, that it should pour bounty on lands of east and west?
You brought us into being by Your kindness, Maker of all existence; so forgive us by Your grace, Hearer of every prayer.
Those who long for You lose heart and mind in the search; those who understand lose their footing in describing You.
The nights of Your friends bring a blessed morning; but the night they pass without You brings the darkest evening.
Your memory nourishes the soul, Your praise enchants; Your name lifts sorrow, Your word steals the heart.
Without the stamp of Your acceptance, all deeds are counterfeit; without the seal of Your favor, every striving of hope is wasted.
Where the sword of Your wrath rises in awe, You lay waste even the garden of Sheba with a raging flood.
Kings lay their heads at the threshold of Your glory; the proud submit, and mighty rulers turn to beggars.
Whether You punish all or grant them favor, no one has room to ask 'how is this?' or 'why is that?'
We stand dumbstruck before the least of Your works; who are we, and where lies the praise fit for that Lord?
How could the hands and feet of understanding and eloquence ever swim in the oceans of describing Your majesty?
Sometimes the scorching wind of Your wrath joins hands with autumn; sometimes the breeze of Your kindness travels with the spring wind.
All are beggars at the court of Your forgiveness: the sultan in his pavilion and the dervish in his cloak.
One with hands raised in pleading, this one's face to the ground; that eye watching for a sign, this ear listening for a call.
The travelers of Your path are veiled from people's eyes: by night in the garb of knowing, by day in ordinary dress.
Blessed is the fortune You remember with kindness; ruined is the luck that forgets You.
You struck the coin of prophethood thousands of times, first in the name of Adam and last in Mustafa.
His inspiration from the Sublime, His message from Gabriel; his judgment not from mere nature, his speech not from desire.
Who has a tongue eloquent enough to praise him? What light can a dim star give before the sun?
Do you know what meaning the pious elders gave to the verse 'When the sun is folded up'?
It means that when the Prophet's being lifts its head from the dust, the sun and moon will have no light in that hour.
O you above whom the angels' highest station in heaven is the lowest rung compared to your rank.
How dare I bring mere poetry to your lofty presence? What is fabricated magic against the revelation of heaven?
Lord, by the hand that split the moon in two, by the pebbles that praised You in his blessed palm,
We are the fallen slaves of our own desire, take our hand; be gentle with the wrongdoer and forgive the one who sinned.
God placed an antidote in the Messenger's mouth; so why should Abu Bakr fear a deadly poison?
O companion of the cave, the famed and truthful Abu Bakr, treasury of every virtue and store of purity,
Others have kept company with their friends, but not as you did, sharing the dragon's jaws.
A true friend gives up wealth, body, and life to keep faith to the end for the sake of the friend.
Then Umar, who was worthy of prophethood, had the Master of Messengers not been the seal of the prophets,
Commander of the household of faith, companion of the Messenger, foremost among the sincere worshippers of God.
A demon the whole world is helpless against was helpless to escape his grip.
Then the beauty of Uthman's character, who, out of modesty, would not raise his head before his murdering enemy.
This is the condition of love and true friendship: to endure the cruelty of enemies for the sake of friends.
God's chosen ones have always borne affliction; the more the favor, the more the trial.
Who has the strength or nerve to describe Ali? The Almighty spoke of his merits in the verse 'Has there not come.'
The mighty conqueror of the fortress of Khaybar, whose bolt he broke apart with the arm of 'there is no hero.'
A man who wore his armor over his chest in battle, so he would never turn his back on the enemy in war.
The Lion of God, hero of the field, sea of generosity: giving life in prayer, setting the world ablaze in battle.
Preface of chivalry and sultan of true knowledge, commander of nobility and leader of the devout.
Tomorrow, when everyone reaches for an intercessor, we hold to the hand and hem of the sinless Ali.
The Prophet is the shining sun of the world, and these are its great stars and guides.
Lord, by the pure lineage of Fatima's children, Lord, by the pure blood of the martyrs of Karbala,
Lord, by the sincere hearts of the truthful elders, Lord, by the tears of the men who knew You,
In Your generosity, send balm to the weary hearts; O Your Greatest Name, the door of the treasury of healing.
If people lean on their own deeds, Your mercy and grace are support enough for us.
Lord, we have broken Your command many times, yet we hope in Your generosity to forgive what is past.
The sinner keeps his eyes on his own faults; we, through Your boundless generosity, keep our eyes on Your gift.
Lord, by Your kindness cover our sins on the day when secrets fall openly from behind the veil.
From You have come always kindness and lordship; from us, as befits us, unworthy deeds.
It is justice if You punish us though we are innocent; it is grace if You draw the pen of pardon over our faults.
If You strengthen him, a human surpasses an angel; if You raise it, the dust rises to the Pleiades.
The hearts of Your friends bleed with fear, yet the fullness of Your kindness gives their hearts hope again.
Lord, accept us by Your greatness and grace, for the one You reject has no refuge at all.
Take our hand, and do not send us to anyone else; the helpless have no need but toward You, none else.
We are needy servants and You are generous; a need is always answered before the generous.
You did all that befitted Your lordship; we did nothing worthy of You; our Lord.
It is easy, if You look with the eye of favor; what obstacle is there before the elixir in setting a heart right?
Better still that You Yourself take our hand by Your kindness, for otherwise nothing at all can come from our own hands.
Having brought no work to completion in our seeking, we have brought our precious days to their end.
In short, we held out empty hands to You; and one cannot hold out anything but empty hands to God.
O fortune, if You look with favor; O shame, if You repay with punishment.
O friend, strive to walk the path like true men; and if your feet are bound, open your hands in prayer.
It is clear how far a servant reaches by his own effort; above every head a pen of destiny has already written.
No one can rely on his own goodness and worship; only the blind lean on a walking stick.
What was written on your brow from the first day? For in eternity there are the blessed and the wretched.
If they lay a sword upon a true lover's body, he says, 'Strike, for the wealth is offered up and life is a sacrifice.'
We do not hope for healing from an enemy's remedy; but from the friend's hand, even poison is welcome.
O you whose life is tethered on the flood's path, why pile up so many hopes with death right behind you?
Every wild beast in mountain and plain would be a Sufi, if plain wool without purity were any use.
The body grows lean but the heart's strength grows strong in the prey that grazes in the gardens of self-discipline.
Since neither joy nor sorrow of this world lasts, Pharaoh in triumph is like Job in affliction.
People like us have not died in hardship and want; who are we to deserve the honor of the saints?
The one wounded on God's path feels no grief; how sweet is a pain that the Beloved Himself heals.
There is no place for pleasure between heaven and earth; how can a single grain escape from between two millstones?
Your life is gone and you made no remedy for your task; now that there is no remedy, come in helplessness.
Your good and bad deeds are your companions at resurrection; choose those you would be glad to meet face to face.
So that you sow no seed but generosity, and take no provision but reverence for God.
You may say, 'What hard-hearted one would ignore this counsel?' Call it out to the mountain, and only the echo answers you back.
To the unworthy we gave Saadi's advice as it truly is, though kohl makes no difference to one born blind.