Kamala Surayya

1. Oh, the boundless
Ya, Allah!
Unbound by
Religious shell, you are!
Epitome of unbridled freedom, you are!!
Your light
And your shade,
For my happiness, I seek!!!
So too for my restful sleep.
You raze the boundaries of
Cities and of households.
Yet, I encapsulate you
In the depth of my heart.
Is it human heart alone
A world without barrier?
Oh, the core of boundless infinity,
I worship thee.
2. Ya, Mohammad
Ya Mohammad,
May the lord shower his grace upon him!
You are the golden dawn
That illuminates the dark Arabian nights.
The last prophet
Who fight for fidelity and truth.
We hear about the luminosity
Of that face
Even after the long
Fourteen centuries.
We are unfortunate
Who came late,
We bemoan our fate.
Oh, the master
Esteemed by more than
Forty generations
We prepare for you,
The banquets of love.
You came like the raindrops,
On the desert, unexpectedly;
The rain has long gone,
Yet, as a golden memory, it remains,
In each tiny speck of sand.
3. A forlorn woman
You are not alone, Surayya!
Allah’s deep love is like the soft moonlight.
You have worn it as a shield;
You alone hear the rhymes of the soundless tunes.
As does the seas, at the ebbing of the tides,
Toiling to reach up these steep steps,
You have fainted at the door,
With your soft bleeding feet,
Seeking the formless guardian’s care.
No more would any dare stone you,
Do not keep the agony of remorse yourself;
The bewitching calmness
Encased deep in the turbulent sea;
Is yours from now.
The soft hue of the twilight time,
When the dying day
Joins the emerging night;
Is yours from now.
Mountains and wilds,
Hillocks and streams,
You have traversed;
To reach here.
Once under the flowering tree,
When you strolled,
The rain fell on you,
Then came the shower of flowers;
Your face lit with delightful smile;
Does not this memory linger on in you?
It was the rejoicing of your adolescence;
Is the same mood reverberating again,
In you?
4. Companion
Ya, Allah,
It may be for my faltering steps,
And my hazy vision,
I travel along with you,
Always.
My hopes and my yearnings
Are in thy hands
And yours alone.
Somebody says,
That Surayya is mad…
It was enough for me
The white rod the destiny of blindness
In my loneliness, My lord.
It has been thus said,
Is the religion only a crutch?
Attired in a shroud of discernment
Burdened with decaying wisdom,
Foolish has been this journey.
Didn’t I renounce, this foolish
The kith and kin, and the dwelling,
The attachments and the companions;
My lord!
Thou art everything,
My kinfolk
And my companion.
In my manor, now,
There is no empty granary.
The ceilings are back to brightness,
There are no doorways,
You have not entered;
There remain no beds,
You have not slept in;
No gardens
You have missed;
No ponds
You forgot to swim in;
Oh, my lord,
This my last dwelling,
Is yours.
Your soothing caress, my lord,
Is intoxicating
Like the scent of the sweet alluring flower.

Source:
Ya, Allah!
Surayya