Jawab-e-Shikwa (The answer to the complaint)

Words spoken from the heart never fail to have effect;
Sacred and pure their origin, on lofty heights their sights are set.
They have no wings and yet they have power to fly;
They rise from the dust and pierce through the sky.
So headstrong and insolent was my love, so much on mischief bent,
So outspoken my plaint, it tore through the firmament.

The aged vault of heaven heard. There is someone somewhere, said he.
The planets spoke, Here on these ancient heights someone must be.
Not here, said the moon, it must be someone from the earth below.
Spoke the Milky Way, It must be someone hidden here we do not know.
Only the gatekeeper of Eden did some of my plaint recognize
And understood that I was the man thrown out of paradise.

Even to the angels the voice came as a complete surprise;
Nor was the mystery unveiled to other dwellers of the skies.
(They wondered): Could celestial heights have become the aim of mans
striving?
Could this handful of dust have learnt the art of flying?
These earth-dwellers, how little of manners do they know!
How cheeky and insolent are these habitants of regions down below!

He even rails against Allah, he has become so proud;
Is he the same Adam before whom the angels bowed?
He knows about things, their quantity and quality;
Yes, these he knows, but nothing of the secret of humility.
Their power of speech men always proudly flaunt,
But of the way of the speaking they are quite ignorant.

Spoke the Voice: Your tale is indeed full of sorrow;
Your tears tremble at the brim and are ready to flow.
Your cry of lament the sky has rung;
What cunning your impassioned heart has lent your tongue!
So eloquently did you word your plaint, you made it sound like praise.
To talk on equal terms with Us, man to celestial heights did rise.

Limitless is Our bounty, but none for it will pray.
Theres no one on the seekers path; to whom do We point the way?
Not one proved worthy of the care with which they were raised;
You are not the clay of which another Adam could be made.
If there were one deserving, Wed raise him to regal splendor,
To those who seek, We would unveil a new world of wonder.

You have no strength in your hands; in your hearts God has no place;
On the name of My messenger, you people have brought disgrace.
Destroyers of false gods are gone; only the idol-maker thrives;
The sons of Abraham have departed, Azars idolatrous breed survives.
Strange the company you keep; from new vats a new vintage wine you brew;
You have built yourselves a new Kaaba with new idols because you yourselves
are new.

There were days when this very Allah you regarded as sublime;
The tulip of Islam was the pride of the desert in blossom time.
There were days when every Muslim loved the only Allah he knew;
Once upon a time He was your Beloved; the same Beloved you now call untrue.
Now go and pledge your faith to serve some local deity
And confine Muhammads following to some one locality.