We are busy with the luxury of things. <br />Their number and multiple faces bring <br />To us confusion we call knowledge. Say: <br />God created the world, pinned night to day, <br />Made mountains to weigh it down, seas <br />To wash its face, living creatures with pleas <br />(The ancestors of prayers) seeking a place <br />In this mystery that floats in endless space. <br />God set the earth on the back of a bull, <br />The bull on a fish dancing on a spool <br />Of silver light so fine it is like air; <br />That in turn rests on nothing there <br />But nothing that nothing can share. <br />All things are but masks at God's beck and call, <br />They are symbols that instruct us that God is all. <br /> <br />Translated bu: Raficq Abdulla<br /><br />Farid ud-Din Attar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/invocation-40/
