Dard (the pain)
I do not stoop, yet find my collar torn
the thorns were here, beneath my feet, not there.
Can i be blameless when no voice will blame
the hunter who has caught me in his snare?
The pious people shun the tavern door
but i need courage to outstare their stare.
After a wakeful night outside that lane
the freeze of morning stirs the scented air.
Interpretation's gate is closed and barred
but i go through and neither know nor care.
i kneel within the Kaba'a of my heart
and to my Idol raise my face in prayer
And through thick lashed curtains
i see what He neither sees nor dares.
Though blinded by the sun, i see
the moonlight of His face, the clouds of hair.
the thorns were here, beneath my feet, not there.
Can i be blameless when no voice will blame
the hunter who has caught me in his snare?
The pious people shun the tavern door
but i need courage to outstare their stare.
After a wakeful night outside that lane
the freeze of morning stirs the scented air.
Interpretation's gate is closed and barred
but i go through and neither know nor care.
i kneel within the Kaba'a of my heart
and to my Idol raise my face in prayer
And through thick lashed curtains
i see what He neither sees nor dares.
Though blinded by the sun, i see
the moonlight of His face, the clouds of hair.