Khitab ba Jawanan-e-Islam

An Address to the Muslim Youth

Have you ever, O Muslim youth, paused for solemn reflection? What was that firmament, of which you are but a shattered star? You were raised in the embrace of love by that very nation which once crushed underfoot the crown upon the head of Darius. Creators of civilization, architects of the laws of empire, they came from the Arabian desert—that cradle of camel-herders. The spirit of 'Poverty is my pride' pervaded their imperial splendor; What need has a beautiful face for powder, paint, or artful line? Even in poverty, those men of God were so fiercely proud, that the wealthy patron lacked the audacity to offer them charity for fear of it. In short, what can I tell you of what those desert-dwellers were? World-seizers and world-rulers, world-guardians and world-adorners. If I wished, I could draw their portrait for you in words, but that spectacle is far beyond the reach of your imagination. You can have no true kinship with your forefathers, for you are all talk, they were all action; you are static, they were ever-moving. We have lost that inheritance we received from our ancestors; from the Pleiades, heaven has dashed us down to the earth. Why weep for the loss of governance? That was but a transient thing; there is no escape from the immutable laws of this world. But those pearls of knowledge, those books of our forefathers— when I see them now in Europe, my heart shatters into fragments. O seeker of riches! Witness Jacob's darkest day: The light of his own eye now brightens Zulaikha's gaze.