أيها التائه في درب الحياة — Walid Al Azami

O wanderer on the path of life,

Heedlessly walking without guidance,

Boasting of sins and debauchery,

And spending the night in a wine tavern,

Drowning in sin and grievous guilt,

Rise and repent to God before death.

What excuse will you offer tomorrow?

Return to God with a humble heart,

And call upon Him at night with a tearful eye.

He will take you into His care with boundless pardon,

And turn all those misdeeds

Into good deeds whose reward will never end.

All this pardon is for the penitent servant,

[Unclear word] from the Creator of the vast universe,

For whoever turned back to Him without delay,

And offered prayers to God,

And prostrated to none but his Lord.

The season of repentance has arrived, so seize

The opportunity of faith before regret.

The blessing of faith is among the greatest blessings,

So seize it and advance steadfastly,

And be upright for God; you will be granted right guidance.

Souls grow radiant in the month of fasting,

And joy and peace enfold them.

And the heart overflows with light and smiles,

And through remembrance of God it dispels the darkness.

At peace in mind, he lives in ease.

A Salute to the Muslim Woman

Daughter of guidance, O right-minded woman,

May you never cease ascending the path of guidance.

Go toward honor in a procession

That proclaims the eternal message—

The message of Islam, and nothing else,

Whether ideas or corrupt systems.

It marches toward glory, and its banners

Bear witness to its lofty standing.

It restores the nation's identity,

Until dormant aspirations awaken,

And kindles resolve in its young men,

So they may follow its gathered multitudes.

My sister, Islam has its lights,

Which shine despite the massed clouds,

Lighting the caravan's paths to the heights

With discerning, critical eyes.

She is not accepted by a crude idea—

Misshapen—or by a rigid creed.

Her method knows no lying

As a means to the noble goal.

Nor does she see violence as a way to

Spread her ideals, nor is she spiteful.

She believes in goodness and does not seek,

As others do, effortless spoils.

She wrestles with evil and its adherents,

And those who support imported systems,

And eradicates oppression and its causes

With resounding, steadfast resolve.

Stronger than oppression and its practitioners,

Because she is aware and rightly guided.

She knows what her enemies intend,

So she was not heedless or oblivious.

She believed in nothing but her Qur'an—

A pure, everlasting creed.

She forsook her own desire for love of her religion,

Content, grateful, and offering praise.

And from wavering men I heard a saying

That leaves the levelheaded with the frivolity of fools.

They pontificate, though not one of them is sensible,

Changing colors as a chameleon does.

They hope for peace for us from our enemies.

This, by my life, is the reasoning of fools.

Where is peace, and what has it to do with principles

Like a mirage glimmering in the desert?

Where is peace, and what has it to do with principles

Founded on senseless fanaticism?

Where is peace—in the massacres of Qibya?

Or in the massacres of green Tunisia?

Or in Algeria, where they left not

A house without calamity and affliction?

Or in the lands of Jerusalem, O its champions,

Where blood there is like the sea?

Or on Kashmir's hills, where strife

Is blind, following blind strife?

Nehru stokes its fire brazenly,

And goes about calling people to put it out.

We do not expect reform from a worshipper

Of the bull or the chameleon-like ewe.

If he had any goodness, he would have freed himself

From that foolish idolatry.

We do not want peace; rather, we shall leave it

To the fools, the dependents, the cowards.

We shall leave it to the owl hooting in the dark,

We shall leave it to the bats of darkness,

To those crouching, submissive from feebleness,

To the ape, to the worms, to the parrot.

Glory is won with iron and with blood,

Not by writing beside every privy.