Faith
From the days of his youth, on the spiritual path,
Translated from Uzbek · Original text
From the days of his youth, on the spiritual path,A man of devoted heart spent his life in service.Taking the thread of the litanies from his elder’s hand,He took flight, spreading his wings wide.As he found perfection in his journeying and rapture,The veils were lifted from his eyes one by one.Looking at him with longing, the people of the inner statesAsked him all kinds of questions, seeking answers:“You have traveled a long road on the journey of purity,Writing the words of remembrance on your heart.Tell us, as a service to us,The most precious counsel, and show us your compassion!..”Bowing his head, the wayfarer softly spoke:“This road has not ended, there is still a journey ahead…I fear that one day I will perish,At every step I have seen fierce danger.The fruit that has ripened on the tree of my lifeI hand to you — pay close attention —Since you have set out upon this way,Know this: I have always walked upon a hair.I am a servant: I lived sunk in my grief,At times I surged and overflowed, at times I grew weary.In the moment I was enchanted with my own deeds,I found myself beneath the whip of sin.There, you have heard me, O people of piety,I have told you of my most wretched state.But more wretched still is this condition:There is not a single moment when I have not been whipped!..”Akrom MALIK
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