Poetry

The Name of the Beloved

TRANSLATED BY JOHN DREW
Abdul Latif

Tell me, Bell,

How is it you resound

To the Beloved's sound?

 

Flung into flames,

I was born out of loss,

Carved out of iron,

Fired by the smith:

Melted and shaped

Till my skin blistered.

 

 

Oh, the pain of separation,

Blow after hammer blow!

 

Placed on a slab,

Head knocked off,

Patterns etched

All over my skin.

Allah be praised!

A hook was driven

Into my heart

And in my mouth

A gong was hung.

 

Only then,

The Bell intoned,

Could I give tongue

To the Beloved's name.