Sprinkling of the Cloud Beyond Being
He is God.
Our passion caused the cloud beyond
all being to begin to sprinkle down;
Our melody has led the mystery
of all fidelity to gain renown.
The east wind spread abroad Chinaís perfume;
our tresses have diffused the fragrant gale.
The countenance of truth caused the shining
sun of ornamentation to unveil;
Behold, from our direction the head of
reality becomes now manifest!
The wave of the divine encounter made
the sea of purity cry out with zest;
Munificence then winked with coquetry
because our heartís rapture is so sincere.
Wineís joy was poured at the glance of the rose;
our melody made this sweet hint appear.
The silver trump! Divine desire! -- One blast
in the midst of the sky caused both to be.
Our face began the age of "I am He;"
our breath started the cycle, "He is He."
The chalice of the heart made manifest
the fountain of divine reality;
The ruby jewel of Baha begat
an overflowing goblet of honey.
The Day of God gained its fulfillment when
the countenance of the Lord was revealed.
The melody reverberating in
Tehran has the new Beauty as its yield.
Gaze on the overflow of resplendence
and see the sprinkling of the unknown Cloud;
For all these things derive from one tune of
the melody of God when sung aloud.
Look at an everlasting moon, then turn
your eyes upon exalted and high-flown
Vistas; examine the rebellious breast
that was anointed by the most high throne.
Now view the blessed palm tree and look on
the gentle warbling of the dove; then see
The most sublime recital that issued
from the bright radiance of purity.
Give ear to the Hijazi tambourine;
let the Iraqi melody cascade.
And listen to the celestial rhythm
that was by the force of our passion made.
Behold the visage of divinity,
set your gaze on the heavenly houri.
Then look at how the human is unveiled
by the cloud beyond beingís mystery.
Gaze at the wine serverís red cheek,
look on the everlasting countenance;
See the translucent liquid that was poured
out from our cup with such exuberance.
Observe the conflagration of Moses,
look at the white-hot shining of the sun;
And see the glowing breast on Sinai -- all
came forth from what the sublime palm has done.
Look at the condition of the lovers,
hear the intoxicated make laments;
See the infatuation of beings
when they enter in the court of presence.
Look at the rosebuds and see the ringlets
of hair that fall in the shape of a B;
Listen to the melodies of the flute
that from the pen of Baha came to be.
This is the sprinkling down of purity,
this is the brimming manifestation;
This is the singing of the birds, which flowed
from the spring of self-annihilation.
Translated by Juan Cole