Analysis of The Mosque Of Cordoba

The succession of day and night
Is the architect of events.
The succession of day and night
Is the fountain-head of life and death.
The succession of day and night
Is a two-tone silken twine,
With which the Divine Essence
Prepares Its apparel of Attributes.

The succession of day and night
Is the reverberation of the symphony of
Creation.
Through its modulations, the Infinite
demonstrates
The parameters of possibilities.

The succession of day and night
Is the touchstone of the universe;
Now sitting in judgement on you,
Now setting a value on me.

But what if you are found wanting.
What if I am found wanting.
Death is your ultimate destiny.
Death is my ultimate destiny.

What else is the reality of your days
and nights,
Besides a surge in the river of time,
Sans day, sans night.

Frail and evanescent, all miracles of
ingenuity,
Transient, all temporal attainments;
Ephemeral, all worldly accomplishments.

Annihilation is the end of all
beginnings.
Annihilation is the end of all ends.
Extinction, the fate of everything;
Hidden or manifest, old or new.

Yet in this very scenario
Indelible is the stamp of permanence
On the deeds of the good and godly.

Deeds of the godly radiate with Love,
The essence of life,
Which death is forbidden to touch.

Fast and free flows the tide of time,
But Love itself is a tide that stems all tides.

In the chronicle of Love there are times
Other than the past, the present and the
future;
Times for which no names have yet
been coined.

Love is the breath of Gabriel.
Love is the heart of Mustafa.
Love is the messenger of God.
Love is the Word of God.

Love is ecstasy lends luster to earthly
forms.
Love is the heady wine,
Love is the grand goblet.

Love is the commander of marching troops.
Love is a wayfarer with many a way-side
abode.

Love is the plectrum that brings
Music to the string of life.
Love is the light of life.
Love is the fire of life.

To Love, you owe your being,
O, Harem of Cordoba,
To Love, that is eternal;
Never waning, never fading.

Just the media these pigments, bricks
and stones;
This harp, these words and sounds, just
the media.
The miracle of art springs from the
lifeblood of the artist!

A droplet of the lifeblood
Transforms a piece of dead rock into a living
heart;
An impressive sound, into a song of
solicitude,
A refrain of rapture or a melody of mirth.

The aura you exude, illumines the
heart.
My plaint kindles the soul.
You draw the hearts to the Presence
Divine,

I inspire them to bloom and blossom.
No less exalted than the Exalted Throne,
Is the throne of the heart, the human breast!
Despite the limit of azure skies,
Ordained for this handful of dust.

Celestial beings, born of light,
Do have the privilege of supplication,
But unknown to them
Are the verve and warmth of
prostration.

An Indian infidel, perchance, am I;
But look at my fervour, my ardour.
‘Blessings and peace upon the Prophet,' sings
my heart.
‘Blessings and peace upon the Prophet,' echo
my lips.

My song is the song of aspiration.
My lute is the serenade of longing.
Every fibre of my being
Resonates with the refrains of Allah hoo!

Your beauty, your majesty,
Personify the graces of the man of faith.
You are beautiful and majestic.
He too is beautiful and majestic.

Your foundations are lasting,
Your columns countless,
Like the profusion of palms
In the plains of Syria.

Your arches, your terraces, shimmer with the
light
That once flashed in the valley of Aiman
Your soaring minaret, all aglow
In the resplendence of Gabriel's glory.

The Muslim is destined to last
As his Azan holds the key to the
mysteries
Of the perennial message of Abraham
and Moses.

His world knows no boundaries,
His horizon, no frontiers.
Tigris, Danube and Nile:
Billows of his oceanic expanse.

Fabulous, have been his times!
Fascinating, the accounts of his
achievements!
He it was, who bade the final adieu
To the outworn order.

A cup-bearer is he,
With the purest wine for the connoisseur;
A cavalier in the path of Love
With a sword of the finest steel.

A combatant, with la ilah
As his coat of mail.
Under the shadow of flashing
scimitars,
'La ilah' is his protection.