She said, “O old man, though I am in affliction (on account of the loss of Mohammed), I am in manifold bewilderment (not knowing whether I should grieve or rejoice).
گفت پیر اگر چه من در محنتم ** حیرت اندر حیرت اندر حیرتم
At one moment the wind is making a speech to me, at another moment the stones are schooling me.
ساعتی بادم خطیبی می‌کند ** ساعتی سنگم ادیبی می‌کند
The wind addresses me with articulate words, the stones and mountains give me intelligence of (the real nature of) things.970
باد با حرفم سخنها می‌دهد ** سنگ و کوهم فهم اشیا می‌دهد
Once (before) they of the Invisible carried off my child—they of the Invisible, the green-winged ones of Heaven.
گاه طفلم را ربوده غیبیان ** غیبیان سبز پر آسمان
Of whom shall I complain? To whom shall I tell this plaint? I am become crazy and in a hundred minds.
از کی نالم با کی گویم این گله ** من شدم سودایی اکنون صد دله
His (God's) jealousy has closed my lips (so that I am unable) to unfold (the tale of) the mystery: I say (only) this much, that my child is lost.
غیرتش از شرح غیبم لب ببست ** این قدر گویم که طفلم گم شدست
If I should say anything else now, the people would bind me in chains as though I were mad.”
گر بگویم چیز دیگر من کنون ** خلق بندندم به زنجیر جنون
The old man said to her, “O Halíma, rejoice; bow down in thanksgiving and do not rend thy face.975
گفت پیرش کای حلیمه شاد باش ** سجده‌ی شکر آر و رو را کم خراش
Do not grieve: he will not become lost to thee; nay, but the (whole) world will become lost in him.
غم مخور یاوه نگردد او ز تو ** بلک عالم یاوه گردد اندرو
Before and behind (him) there are always hundreds of thousands of keepers and guardians (watching over him) in jealous emulation.
هر زمان از رشک غیرت پیش و پس ** صد هزاران پاسبانست و حرس