Farīd ud-Dīn Attar Abū Hamīd bin Abū Bakr Ibrāhīm
In the Dead of night
In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, 'This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers.'
Farīd ud-Dīn Attar Abū Hamīd bin Abū Bakr Ibrāhī's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (In the Dead of night by Farīd ud-Dīn Attar Abū Hamīd bin Abū Bakr Ibrāhīm )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- "Hope" is the thing with feathers, Emily Dickinson
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne