Ah, true, sleepless one,
I will ever write;
it is only a question,
should ears hear?
or the river Tigris
swallow the black tears
that runs in drops of ink
along these pages…
Perhaps I feel echoes
of that joy Bahá’u’lláh
had known
writing for His heart’s Revelation
but knowing none could hear.
I possess no capacities as such
yet every being
is a symbol created
by the accents of His voice.
I will ever write;
it is only a question,
should ears hear?
or the river Tigris
swallow the black tears
that runs in drops of ink
along these pages…
Perhaps I feel echoes
of that joy Bahá’u’lláh
had known
writing for His heart’s Revelation
but knowing none could hear.
I possess no capacities as such
yet every being
is a symbol created
by the accents of His voice.