T5erbeesh: Grace | نعمة

 

Shada Maayouf

a poem describing Jannah


Await a gift of your lord,

Wherein you see no heat nor cold,

Gardens underneath which rivers flow,

Whithin are trees with their fruits they bow,

And still...

 

Its beauty incomparable, beyond our thoughts,

Where no hatred norjealousy do stain our hearts,

Clothed in garments of silk in green,

With maidens and servants what a luxurious scene,

And still...

 

Imagine a world as in fairy tales beautiful and fine,

Four rivers of water, milk, honey and wine,

its stones are pearls and its sand is safran,

Where we'll be shaded by His mercy,

and the sky is His throne,

There's more still...

 

When our records glow white page for page,

Where all of us are equal, identical in age,

Reclining on couches the inner covering of which is silk,

handled cups mixed with ginger, pure to drink,

What could be there still...

 

The prophets and the righteous are your neighbours and friends,

Where the eternal bliss stars but never ends,

Where you may join the companions and befriend them too,

When "Mohammad" صلى الله عليه و سلم recognises you...

What are you waiting for still...

 

A place unlimited in time and space,

Where the greatest of bounties is seeing His face,

A glance you dreamt of for days and days,

and a goal worth craving for those,

Who,

Seek,

His,

Grace.


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