The Beauty of Truth

O’ Beauty of Truth, the Eternal Light!
Do I call you necessity and possibility,
The One, creation and the world,
Do I call you the ancient divinity
The pride, the white , the dark
Do I call you free and pure Being,
Or the apparent lord of all,
Do I call you the souls, the egos and the intellect seeing
The imbued manifest, and the imbued hidden,
The actual reality, the substance,
The word, the attribute and dignity,
Do I call you the variety, and the circumstance
The demeanor, and the measure,
Do I call you the throne and the firmament,
And the demurring delights of Paradise,
Do I call you the only possible content
Animal and human,
Do I call you the mosque, the temple, the monastery,
The scriptures, the Quran,
The rosary, the girdle, the solemnity of mary
Godlessness, and faith,
Do I call you the clouds, the flash, the thunder,
Lightning and the downpour,
Water and earth down under
The gust and the inferno,
Do I call you Lakshmi, and Ram and lovely Sita,
Baldev, Shiv, Nand, and Krishna,
Brahma, Vishnu and Ganesh,the Geeta
Mahadev and Bhagvaan,
Do I call you the Granth, and the Ved,
Knowledge and the unknowable,
Do I call you Abraham, Eve and Seth,
Noah and the deluge,
Abraham the friend, and Moses son of Amran,
And Ahmad the glorious, darling of every heart,
Do I call you the witness, the Lord, all the worship of man
The awakener, existence, or the point,
Do I call you admiration or prognosis,
Nymph, fairy, and the young lad,
The eternal bliss
The tip and the nip,
And the redness of betel leaves,
The Tabla and Tanpura,
The drum, the notes and the improvisation that is perceived,
Do I call you beauty and the fragrant flower,
Coyness and that amorous glance,
Do I call you Love and knowledge,
Superstition, belief,conjecture,all that empowers
The beauty of power, and conception,
Aptitude and ecstasy,
Do I call you intoxication and the drunk,
Amazement and the amazed,the fantasy
Submission and the connection,
Compliance and Gnosticism,
Do I call you the Hyacinth, the Lilly, and the Cypress,
And the rebellious Narcissus and his pragmatism
The bereaved Tulip, the Rose garden, and the orchard,
Do I call you the dagger, the rifle, and the lance,
The hail, the bullet, the spear,
The arrows made of white poplar, and the bow, and their hypnotic trance
The arrow-notch, and the arrowhead,
Do I call you colorless, and unparalleled,
Formless in every instant,
Glory and holiness, all compelled
Most glorious and most compassionate,
Repent now ,O Ignorable, forever!
For whatever I may say is less,
Do I call you the pure and the humane,
The Truth without trace or name.

This poem is just an atempt to transalte as sufi song which touched my heart.