Call Of The Marching Bell [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

IN
MEMORY
OF
MOTHER
OF
BLESSED
MEMORY

Introduction

This
poem was written in Europe at the time of the death of Allmah Iqbls
mother. It is not only an expression of his grief on this sad incident but is
also an expression of the philosophy of life and death and the grief created by
them. It expands the thoughts expressed in Poem No. 82 Falsafah-i-Gham
(The Philosophy of Grief). In spite of realizing that everything in the universe
is subject to the Will and Command of God the news of his mothers death was
too hard to bear. He reminisces his whole life and recapitulates some memorable
events of his domestic life. He explains with several examples , that death is a
transitory phase in existence and is not designed to annihilate a person. The
last verse of stanza 8 is important. By comparing man with stars he presents the
Islamic concept of mans superiority over the rest of creation. The last two
verses of stanza 10 are important. Though time mitigates all grief the loss of
his mother has caused him so much grief that time cannot reduce it. The poem
ends in a supplication to God for his mother.
Translation

Every particle of the universe is a prisoner of destiny

Prudence is a cover for helplessness and compulsion

The sky, the sun and the moon all are helpless

The fast moving stars are compelled to moving

Breaking is the end of flower buds pitcher in the garden

The gardens verdure and flowers are also compelled to grow

It may be nightingales song or conscience silent call

Everything is chained in the same universal chain!

When this secret of helplessness becomes evident to the eye

The turbulent flood of tears in the heart dries up

The dance of pleasure and grief does not remain in the human heart

The song remains but the pleasure of treble and bass does not remain

Knowledge and wisdom are robbers of tears and sighs wealth

That is the intelligent heart is a piece of diamond!

Though the dews freshness does not exist in my garden

My eye is not enriched with the red tears

Ah! I am aware of the secret of human afflictions

But my natures orchestra is unaware of complaints song

The story of vicissitudes of time does not come on my lips

My heart is not astonished, not laughing, not crying

But O messenger, your picture is one of constant wailing

Ah! this is the contradiction of my firm wisdom!

Lifes foundation becomes lasting with overflowing wailing

The hard hearted Intellect is embarrassed with the knowledge of pathos

My mirror is bright with the wave of sighs smoke

My skirt is full with the treasure of tears

The miracle of your picture has surprised me

Which has completely changed the flight of time

As if it brought the past and present together

It acquainted me again with the age of infancy

When that feeble soul was being nurtured by your side

Whose tongue was not adequately familiar with talking

And whose linguistic spice is now the subject of conversation

The pearls of whose jewel-shedding eyes are priceless

The learnings serious discourses, the shrewdness of old age

The dignity of worldly honors, the pride of young age

We descend from the positions of dignity in life

We descend as a simple child in the lap of the mother

We are laughing informally, we are free from care

We are once more living in the same lost paradise

Ah! Who will now be waiting for me in the homeland?

Who will become restless by not getting my letter?

I will come to your grave carrying this lament

To whose thoughts will I come in the midnight prayers?

With your up-bringing I became fortunate like stars

The house of my ancestors became a source of pride

Your life was written in gold letters in the existence book

Your life was a full lesson of secular and religious education

Your love remained in my service for your whole life

When I was able to serve you, you did not survive

That youth who equals the slender cypress in stature 1

Who became more fortunate in serving you than me

That constant companion of mine in the business of life

That picture of yours in love, that source of my strength

He is crying like a helpless infant for you

He is crying with impatience from morning till evening

The love whose seed you planted in our lifes field

By the grief of separation that love became more firm

Ah! This world, this mourning place for the young and old!

In what a strange ever-changing prison man is imprisoned!

How difficult it is to live! How easy it is to die!

In the existence garden death is cheap as breeze!

There are earthquakes, thunderbolts, famines, afflictions

How diverse the daughters of the mother of time are!

In poor mans hovel, in rich mans mansion is death

In forest, house, city, garden, wilderness is death

Death is tumultuous in the silent ocean

Boats are drowned in the lap of death

Neither there is ability to complain, nor power of speech

Life nothing but is a yoke choking the throat

In the caravan nothing but bells wailing exists

Nothing except the valuable weeping eye exists!

However, this period of trial will also come to its end

Behind the skys nine orbits there are other orbits also 2

What if the tulips and roses in this garden are afflicted?

What if nightingales are compelled to wail and complain?

The bushes, which are burnt by the sighs of the autumn

Will green up when the breezes of the invigorating spring flow

What if our spark is asleep in the dust of the shield?

What if this handful of dust is our temporary abode?

The end of the fire of life is not in the ashes!

This is not the jewel whose destiny is breaking!

Life is such a beloved in the eye of Nature

Lifes preservation is in everythings nature

If the deaths hand could efface lifes picture

The system of the universe would not have made it so common

If it is cheap then think that death is nothing

Just as there is no break in living by sleeping

Ah ! O imprudent one! Deaths hidden secret is something
different!

The instability of the picture exhibits something different!

The picture of wind over water is sights paradise

By break in the restless wave it makes the bubbles

It conceals it again in the skirt of the wave!

How mercilessly it demolishes its own picture

If the wind could not create its bubble again

The wind would not have broken it so carelessly

What is the effect of this custom on the form of creation?

This is the proof of the power of wind over creation

If the existence nature be not in search of
longing

It would never be in search of the better form!

Ah ! The restless mercury, the sky brightening stars

The heat of these sparks is obligated to the night

Their antiquity is bewildering to the Intellect

The history of the human race is a mere moment for them

Then this Man whose vision is directed to the celestial world

Who is more immaculate in his goals than qudsis 3

Who is lighted up like a candle in the assembly of Nature

In the expanse of whose nature celestial world is a mere dot

Whose ignorance is restless to know the Truth

Whose nail is the plectrum to the harp of existence

Is this flame inferior than the skys sparks even?

Is our sun less precious than the stars even?

The eye of flowers seed is awake even under the soil

How restless for growth and development the seed is

The flame of life which is concealed in this grain

Is under compulsion for self-assertion and growth

Even with the graves cold it cannot become dispirited

Even by being buried under soil it cannot become cold!

Becoming a flower, it comes out of its grave

That is it gets the robe of life from its death

Grave is the organizer of its scattered powers

Which is throwing its rope-ladder round skys neck

Death is the name of the renewal of lifes taste

Behind the veil of sleep it is a message of awakening

The one accustomed to flight is not afraid of flight!

Death in this garden is nothing but readying for flight!

People say that the pain of death is incurable

Separations wound is cured with times salve

But the heart where the grief of the dead ones is living

Is free from the loop of the chain of morning and evening

Mournings wailing does not stop with the spell of time

Time is no salve for the wound of separations sword

When some sudden calamity befalls us

Tears come out of the eyes constantly

The heart becomes accustomed to wailing and complaint

The hearts blood drips from the tearful eyes

Though Man is deprived of the power of patience

This sub-conscious feeling always exists in his nature

The essence of Man does not become annihilated

He disappears from sight but is not annihilated

The baggage of life is dust with the flame of grief

This fire is cooled with this subtle feelings water

Ah! This control of wailing is not negligence silence

This consolation is awareness, it is not forgetfulness!

When the dawn manifests itself from the east

It washes away the nights stain from the worlds skirt

It clothes the melancholy tulip in red garb

It makes the silent bird intoxicated with music

The song is freed from the nightingales breast

The morning breeze is so full of hundreds of tunes

Those who in rose beds, mountains and brooks were sleeping

At long last in the morning the bride of life are embracing

If the law of life is that every night dawn be

Why the end of Mans grave should not his dawn be

The net of my silvery imagination is universal

In which I have imprisoned your remembrance!

The affliction stricken heart is filled with your memory

As in the Kabah the expanse is filled with supplications!

The sequence of Divine commands which is called life

Its manifestations are covering myriad of unstable worlds

The ways of every stage of life are different

Hereafter also is a marshaling place of life!

Nothing is available there to the deaths field

But the climate is favorable for actions seed

The light of nature is not imprisoned in bodys darkness

The expanse of the human thought is not so narrow

Your life was brighter than even the moon

Your journey was better than even that of the morning star

May your grave be bright like the dawns mansion

May this dusty bed-chamber of yours be light-filled!

May the sky be spraying dew on your grave!

May the freshly grown grass be guarding this house!

Explanatory
Notes

1.
Allusion to his younger brother, which extends up to the end of this stanza.

2.Allusion
to the nine planets of the suns solar system and existence of other systems
beyond it.

3 .Qudss
They
are the angels surrounding the Divine Throne.