Withered mind, withered nerves, withered body
Whence doth the Friend’s Voice come unto me?
Sound of the Bamboo Fife
Hear the bamboo fife, what tale in its tone?
Which separation it doth bemoan?
“When severed was I from bamboo mine
Wept man and woman at wails mine
Aye, for a bosom torn with holes I long
That sing I may my love-ached song
The soul that is from its essence away
Longeth to return one day
Secret of voice mine, not far from its wail
But no light, that ear or eye know the tale
Fire, this song o fife; nay, not a breeze
One devoid of it, to exist may cease
Befriendeth fife one that from Friend didst part
Tear our heart’s veil, its tunes apart
Who knoweth such poison, such cure!
A friend as the fife or a love so pure!
Of a gory path doth the fife tell
Majnun’s story, his love-spell!
Not every ear heareth a song pure
Not every bird doth the fig lure.”
Ecstatic this age in the song without soul
Faithless, unconnected, unstable in goal
The secret, how this age can ever comprehend?*
Knoweth it not the Friend, the Sound of Friend
Ah the West, progress ‘n glitter that must*
Its song pulleth it to the dust!!
Silver, white and new may it appear
The hand and clothes doth it smear
In every hand incompetent shalt thou be indisposed
Unto thine Origin return, that thy soul be reposed!
Knowledge for the body doth only kill
Knowledge for soul doth the heart fill
Knowledge and wisdom from honest bread
Love and feeling come from honest bread
For truth, break the emblem by truth owned
A friend’s mirror for friend be stoned!!
The noble, with endeavour obtain light
The lowly, in shame eschew the fight!
Of what use the words, if no pain of love in thy heart?*
If the lamb
thou wilt not be, let thy torment too part!
Without sacrificial blood, all expression incomplete*
Without sacrificial blood, the song never sweet!!
If true to Muhammad thou art, thine shall I be*
Thine shall be the Pen, thine the Destiny!!!
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