POEM 1.3: The Holy Prophet

The Holy Prophet

Mostafa Hodaee

 

Let’s bless the day that he was born

And our heaven with stars adorn,

The day when joyful is Heaven,

The demons chained, and Hell forlorn.

 

The day when sadness is the last,

The sky would smile so wide and vast,

The angels dance around the sun,

And Evil stares with eyes aghast.

 

That day a man entered the world

Whose praise would go beyond the word,

The highest in the ranks of life,

The first in faith, closest to Lord.

 

So wash your sins, your blunders shake,

Then call his name, for he would take

Your word to God if you repent,

And make a bond no sin can break.

 

For he can do what no one’s done:

To fly so high beyond the sun,

To reach the place where angels don’t,

To cross the heavens one by one.

 

For him the world has come to being

(This truth to words no one can bring)

The best of creatures of the Lord,

The best of men, the peerless King.

 

When life would God to man bestow,

And all angels began to woe,

It was for him that Lord had said:

“I know something you do not know.”

 

This holy man I picture thus:

He crossed the line no one can cross,

Muhammad is his holy name,

The words of God his gift for us.

 

So raise your hands this very day,

To Lord together let us pray

That we would practice what he brought,

That we would never go astray.

 

 

 

 

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