Morning Service. Poem by Syed Anwar Yarkhan Jilani

I am no one!
I inhale cool predawn breeze.
I contemplate shrill cry of the eagle,
I am to go into the cage,
I desire entrapment.
I am no one!

I open the heavy doors.
I am intoxicated by ambergris,
I fall to the threshold.
I am now afraid to enter
I cry for admission.
I am no one.

I understand not the height,
I presume it is the sky.
I yearn to see Sultan Moeen
I will then kiss his feet.
I hope I can do it.
I am no one.

I am towed by two strong serfs
I unable to stand or lift my head:
I tremble and cry for forgiveness.
"I love this Pasha, " was the Sultan decree
I lost my hand, head and heart.
I am no one!

I am poorest of the poor,
I am ashamed of my wretched self.
I have nothing to give or share.
I unimpressed unmoved and uninspired:
I have a platonic Majestic Crown.
I am no one.