It was a beautiful morning,
Rabiya the sacred was singing,
Inside her hut, she was chanting,
About the ways of God's making.
Someone called her near,
what are you doing dear,
Come out and see the wonder,
Beauty of this morning splendour,
God has created for us, yonder.
Rabia the saint replied the neighbour,
Here I am meditating deeply, my dear,
I can see him, God the absolute creator,
Of that enchanting beautiful morning,
Should I struggle to come out for seeing?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem