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O my God! How can I praise Thy being, now that I am aware of mine own existence? For no soul is able to extol Thy Self; Thou art far exalted above being described by aught save Thyself, or known by any other than Thee.

For Thy Being, verily, is that pre-eternal Being which, by its very essence, separateth all created things from the station of knowledge of Thee; and Thy Selfhood is that everlasting Selfhood which, by its very reality, debarreth all contingent things from the remembrance of exposition and utterance.

Glorified art Thou! Exalted art Thou! If I should say, â€uThou art Thou,” I would but have apprehended a mere portion of the realm of origination. Thou art immeasurably exalted above the highest bird of abstraction that might seek to ascend unto the court of Thy nearness, or the loftiest essence of essences that might aspire to raise toward Thee the least allusion.

For the inmost core of Thy unapproachable Singleness is known only unto Thee and described only before Thy presence; unto it no one hath any access, neither by pointing nor by negating.

Glorified art Thou, glorified art Thou! Every description is falsehood, and every epithet a sheer calumny, when faced with the city of Thy holiness.

And yet, despite my knowledge of this, and though the path unto Thy gate is barred, the vestures of the dawning of Thy Presence surge within my very being. I bear witness, by Thine Essence, that Thou art God; there is none other God but Thee, alone, without peer or partner.

And I bear witness that Muhammad—may the blessings of God be upon him and upon his family—is Thy servant and Thy Messenger, whom Thou hast chosen for the knowledge of Thee, and fashioned for Thy love, and made to stand in the place of Thy very Self in the act of conveying (Thy Cause); for Thou art far above being joined unto the act of bringing things into existence. Verily, Thou art God, the Mighty, the Most Exalted.

And I bear witness, moreover, unto the heirs and trustees of Thy Beloved, Muhammad, according to that which Thou hast decreed for them in Thy knowledge—a station such that none among Thy creation can ever encompass their true reality.

So send, O my God, Thy peace upon them, in accordance with Thy might and Thy majesty; for Thou art, in truth, God, the All-Bountiful, the All-Bestowing.

O my God! How can I confess before Thee my most grievous deadly sins and my great and manifold offences, when that very confession is itself a transgression more heinous than they? For my mere existence is a sin—how then, if I should add to it other sins besides?

Wherefore, forgive me, O God, through Thy mercy; and have compassion upon my loneliness and my exile, here upon the heart of the mountain, through Thy tender grace. Deliver me from the plight wherein I find myself, through the power of Thy sustaining Sovereignty; for Thou art, in very truth, God, the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Merciful, the All-Bountiful, the Most Generous.

Unto Thee be praise in every decree; unto Thee do I complain in every new occurrence. I know full well that none can withhold Thy bounty, nor can any repel Thy decree, nor can Thy signs ever be exhausted. Verily, Thou art God, the Self-Sufficient, the All-Praised.

And I am Thy servant, who turneth repentant unto Thee and saith: Praise be to God, the Lord of all the worlds.

He is the Most Exalted, the Most High

No good in plaint to any save the One, Yet there is plaint when patience all is done.

Dost thou not see the ocean, how its tide Runs low, and time lays waste the fish that glide?

Perchance a limpid spring shall yet run clear And slake a throat long parched at fountains drear.

Perchance the driving clouds will break in rain, And he, oppressed yet firm in proof, shall gain.

Perchance the Mender of the broken frame Will ease the bone and knit its hurt and shame.

Despair not, then, of God; the ways that seem Most hard to thee are easy in His scheme.

Seek not without thee any outward store, Thy bounty lies within; think then no more.

If this world’s gauds be counted rich and rare, God’s meed is higher, nobler, past compare.

If these frail frames were fashioned but to die, Then best is he whom God’s own sword brings nigh.

If all provision hath been weighed and sealed, The fairest toil is scant upon the field.