First the divine sound begins softly and secretly,
To a mellow, solemn, and sober measure,
Then, as swarms of bees and crickets join in,
The sound grows gorgeous and fabulous,
The heavenly bells start ringing,
Until the divine speach descends on the Qalab,
Miraculously changing our feelings and spiritual states,
Awareness dawns, delusion finishes,
All the wajud is filled with the illuminating light,
The ten sounds mingle in a rich harmony,
As the soul in ecstatic voice makes merry
Mykoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem