(AD 1006–88; AH 395–480)
Abu Ismaïl Abdullah ibn Abi-Mansour Muhammad was born and died in the ancient city of Herat (then in Greater Khorasan, but now in western Afghanistan), hence he is known as Pious of Herat. He is also known as Shaykhul Mashayekh or the Sheikh of Sheikhs. Considered the foremost Sufi poet of Afghanistan, he is also referred to as the Sheikh of Herat.
He wrote several books on Islamic mysticism and philosophy, the most famous of which, Munajat Namah (Dialogues with God), is a masterpiece of Persian literature. After his death, his disciples compiled his teachings in Kashful Asrar, the best Sufi Tafsir (interpretation) of the Qur’an. His shrine in Herat, built during the Timurid Dynasty (1370–1526), is a popular site of pilgrimage.
O Generous Lord
The giver of blessed gifts,
O Wise One
Who hides our faults,
O Eternal One
Beyond our comprehension,
O One who is unique
In quality and essence,
O Powerful One
Worthy of worship,
O You, the All-knowing,
O Being without fault,
Alone
The essence that heals
And seer of our being,
Glory be to You,
You adorn the kingdom of heaven.
Not dependent on Place
Nor desirous of Time
There is none like You
Nor are You like any.
You are within our soul,
The soul is alive because of You!
Healing comes to the sick because of You,
Your remembrance brings a Friend for the Lover.
Everywhere a thousand Moses seek:
‘O Lord, show Thyself to me!’
A thousand lovers in search
Come to Your path bewildered, hopeful,
Breasts filled with burning from Your separation,
Eyes weeping with the pain of loving You.
Your lovers proclaiming, ‘My poverty is my pride’
Come to the path of love with ‘Allah’ on their lips.
Pir-e-Ansar1 has drunk the dregs of Your Love
And wanders like Majnun across the world.
O Lord
When I could
I did not know;
And when I knew
I could not.
From my existence
I did not profit make;
All I said
All I did
Came to nothing.
What use not knowing, not doing?
For I neither knew nor did.
My Lord, I have no key to open doors
Nor the power for forgiveness;
O Peerless One, our Creator,
What harm if You hear the cry
Of this afflicted man?
Without Your will
Creation would not be.
Without Your guidance
We would be powerless.
If You overlook what I have done
Or where I have failed,
I would gain everything;
And You lose nothing!
O Lord
I come to You as a slave;
On my lips, repentance.
On my tongue
The appeal for forgiveness.
If You wish, You bless me.
If not, I am forlorn.
For in Your presence
I am full of shame.
You are the Lord
All-powerful!
O Lord
Give me wisdom
So I should not lose
My way.
Give me sight
So I do not fall.
Help me in my work
And overlook my misdeeds!
O God, if You ask,
We have no excuse.
If You measure us
We are empty.
If You burn us,
We are powerless.
We are beggars
Wanting blessings;
We are needy,
Destitute.
O Lord
We appear like
Desperate lovers,
And in our hearts
We are sleep-soiled;
Our breasts full of fire
Our eyes full of water;
Sometimes we burn
In the fire of our hearts;
Sometimes we are drowned in tears.
Lord, if I err
I am a Muslim still;
Though a sinner,
I am repentant.
If You punish me
I bow to Your will.
If You bless me,
I am entitled to it!
O Lord
To thank Thee
Is beyond the limit of any speech.
There is no limit to Thine
Ocean of Blessing!
Lead us, O Lord,
On the best of paths!