God created me for the earth,
Where nothing is so perfect,
Where a thing falls and, then, stands again,
Where a thing stands and, then, falls again,
Death after life, life after death,
Like the trees that die in winter,
Coming to life in spring again,
A thing may disappear for a moment,
But, never in extinction does it go
The rivers, brooks, fountains and waters flow on,
But, never, return to their original font;
They have naught a separate font,
They hasten on to move on their circular path,
The wider they flow and spread,
And make a pattern on the earth's face,
The more openly do they assure,
That circular in nature they are,
The process will continue until the last day,
I wonder to see this resurrection,
Veiled by the unseen in His cloak
As God's beauty manifests, I see,
The two worlds, in truth, are the same
Where God manifests His face,
My paradise there exists wallāh,
Where God conceals His face,
My hell there exists billāh
Mykoul
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