Patience
In the heavy hour when the whole world has abandoned you and gone,
Translated from Uzbek · Original text
In the heavy hour when the whole world has abandoned you and gone,In the hour when the heart aches from the blades of slander.In the hour when those who ate your bread plunge a dagger into your soul,In the hour when those who called you “dear” build gallows for you.In the hour when hearts have been lost to suspicion,In the hour when Satan rejoices all around, puffed up with pride.In the days when the sapling of hope withers, thirsting for water,In the pitch-black pits that go by the name of sorrow.When the foundation of trust cracks, beyond all control,When the armies of Iblis celebrate in their delight.When, though the Truth’s mercy is there, they demand His wrath,When, though the Truth’s paradise is there, they demand torment.When everyone but you proclaims himself a saint,Calling what is written on your brow as black as ink.When the mountains and the stones of the world come tumbling on your head,When suddenly the shining sun of friendship sets.You will see two things upon the field of your life,One in your own deeds, the other in your friend’s soul.Whom did you oppress and wrong, poor wretch — remember,For whom did you, too, dig a grave within you — remember.Whom did you torment on purpose, out of ignorance,Now you yourself are in chains — in a state to weep.Those you did not understand — they did not understand you,Those you did not listen to — they did not listen to you.In what deed did you go too far, forgetting your limit,In what deed did you helplessly obey the ego’s command?!Recall them all — and turn to repentance, O servant,Search with a sincere heart through the pages of your record, O servant.If you have suffered pointless pain and torment from someone,Forgive him — and may the Ever-Relenting forgive you.If someone will not call your name spotless, do not grieve,If they will not call your name and honor pure, do not grieve.Lay your head in prostration, burn and lament,Entrust every matter wholly to the Lord.The second thing is this: which brave man who calls himself your friend,When such a dreadful pain comes raining on your head,Will stand beside you with his trust and with his vow?Will come to your defense with vigor and with zeal?The one called a friend will, first of all, be a shield for your honor,Turning his chest to the blades, his body will turn crimson.If he sees you in sin, he will turn you back and pray for you,Pleading with God at length, he will be true to his word.Whatever happens, let it be, my friend — such is the way of the world,Burn with love your heart that clings to the world.Akrom MALIK
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