The Voice of the Heart

There is no fear while He is so near;
Still, my eyes are filled with tears!
O—they are tears of joy, not grief.

Sometimes it looks as if He does not glance at me
But, no it is a gesture of grace and care!
Even the absence of the glance.

From today, I shall have no despair,
No trace of frustration
I bid good-bye to grief.

Like a fresh-blown rose
In whose lap there smiles the charming spring,
In His shimmering Robe,
His Robe—the banner of peace—!
The air is rich with fragrance
And joy. The world is fairer far
With a new brilliance of color.

O Comrades! With what shall I compare Him,
I pray. The full moon is dim—
Before His dazzling face.
In His lotus palm, there is the healing balm
For all the burns of life.
Do you adore the Formless in the Form?—
­Question the disputants, but leave alone
The dispute; I am already prey.

How I long to behold the charm
Imbibe and fill, recall, meditate
Through all the days of life—
­Alas, Tahira, do you realize
That life is too short for this?

~Urdu Original recited at Kavisammelan
by Bano Tahira Sayeed; Dasara, 1966
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, December 1966