1988 Volume 1. 'Sharda Pirani Ameena-Begum Ora-Ray Inayat Khan. "O Beloved..."
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In India
Far across the seas to the land divine
Where mystery reigns supreme,
God carrieth there each thought of mine
And every wondrous dream.
Under warm sun, in a golden tomb,
Resteth Thy beautiful form,
Midst the fragrant roses that round Thee bloom,
Sheltered from wind and storm,
With unceasing peace for many an age,
O holy One, Thou art blest,
Numberless souls to pay Thee homage,
And kneel at Thy feet to rest.
When Thou Wert Near
What need had I for the light of the day
Or the moon in the night to lead the way,
O Beloved, when Thou wert near?
What need had I for the summer's warmth
Or the cooling breezes swaying forth,
O Beloved, when Thou wert near?
What need had I for a bright sunny morn
Or the shining stars, the dark sky adorn,
O Beloved, when Thou wert near?
What need had I for the showers of rain?
The fruits and the flowers Thou didst sustain,
O Beloved, when Thou wert near.
O Death
O Death, my comforter art Thou,
The healer of my wounds enow,
Thy yielding glance do I beseech
And for Thy soothing hand I reach.
1 yearn for Thee, years pass me by,
Thou contest not, but from my cry
I hear an echo o'er the hill, “A sacred duty first fulfill.”
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