O My Lord, the Son of Man I am blind If I can’t see the halo of thy invisible apparition, I am deaf If I can’t hear the divine strain of thy wide horizon, I am dumb
If I can’t blare out the words of praise in thy loud Ear,
I am leprous
If I can’t possess the spots of thy healing glimmer,
I am comatose
If I can’t make my sense aware of thy magnetic existence,
I am fool
If I can’t decipher the signs of thy subtle omnipresence,
I am wicked
If I can’t have my will to follow thy apprised Commandments,
I am weak
If I can’t strengthen my Self in thy worshiping moments,
I am damned
If I can’t receive the offering of thy infinite blessings,
I am heartless
If I can’t persuade my soul for thy eternal dwellings,
I am poor
If I can’t own the wealth of thy priceless hem,
I am dead
If I can’t live my life in peace in thy pious name.
