Sayed Ki Loh-e-Turbat

The Epitaph of the Sayed

O you, whose bird of soul is by the thread of breath confined, O you, whose spirit's bird is in a mortal cage enshrined.

But see the freedom of this garden's minstrels, now unbound, And see the city, once laid waste, with life and purpose crowned.

This is the gathering that was my constant, anxious thought, This is the harvest that my patience and endurance wrought.

See how my very tombstone is enraptured by my speech; Now with your inner eye, read what these carved inscriptions teach.

If your aim in this world is to teach and to guide, Do not teach your own people to cast the world aside.

Let not your tongue be opened for the cause of warring creeds; A hidden tumult of the Final Day in such division breeds.

Let your writings forge the very means for unity to grow, And guard your speech, lest from your words a single heart feels woe.

In this new gathering, do not stir the tales of yesterday; Do not retell the fables that have lost their vibrant sway.

If you are a statesman, then you must heed this voice of mine: Courage is the staff of those who master statecraft's design.

To shrink from speaking what you mean is not a worthy trait; If your intent is noble, why should you fear any fate?

A true Believer's heart is free of hypocrisy and fear; It stands unflinching when the force of worldly power is near.

If in your hands you hold a pen that works a wondrous art, And if you have, like Jamshid's Cup, a truth-reflecting heart,

Then keep your tongue pure—you are a pupil of God's own Grace— And see your voice is not disgraced, nor falls from its high place.

Awaken those who slumber with your poetry's great might, And with your voice's flame, set the harvest of all falsehood alight!