August 12, 2006

• I am no creature of mere light
  
  That I should bow to man.
  
  He is a base-born thing of dust,
  
  And I am of fire born.
  
  
  
  The blood in the veins of the world
  
  Is lit up by my flame.
  
  The tearing speed of wind is mine,
  
  And mine is thunder's boom.
  
  
  
  I forge the atoms' harmony,
  
  The elements' concourse.
  
  I burn, but also shape: I am
  
  The fire that makes the glass.
  
  
  
  The things I make I break to bits
  
  And scatter in the dust,
  
  In order to create new forms
  
  From fragments of those lost.
  
  
  
  This restlessly revolving sky
  
  Is a wave of my sea;
  
  And in my throbbing substance dwells
  
  The shape of things to be.
  
  
  
  The stars' bodies were made by You;
  
  I am their motive force.
  
  I am the substances of the world.
  
  I am life's primal source.
  
  
  
  The body draws its soul from you.
  
  But I arouse the soul.
  
  While You waylay with blissful peace,
  
  I lead with action's call.
  
  
  
  I never begged obedience
  
  Of slaves who always pray.
  
  I rule without a hell: I judge
  
  Without a Judgement Day
  
  
  
  That low-born creature of earth, man,
  
  Of mean intelligence,
  
  Though born in Your lap, will grow old
  
  Under my vigilance.
  
  
  
  -----------------------------------------------
  
  
  
  The Refusal of Iblis by Muhammad Iqbal

  
  

  • 6:36 pm
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