جاسمن
لائبریرین
Farewell, O Cold World!
By Muhammad
Morrow is nigh, but dim my eyes,
though road ahead before me lies.
Farewell, friends! Now comes my call.
The hour is ripe to enter God’s hall.
The world is cold and hearts are gray;
beyond the sunset is my way.
My thoughts are quiet, the wind is free;
I hear the tidings from the Sea.
Farewell, friends! The days are gone
when merry we were, and bright was dawn.
Shadows vile before me lie,
beneath the ever-bending sky,
but no warmth comes from the Sun
that I shall know ere all is done;
lands there are where no cruel jest,
where night is quiet and sleep is rest.
Tread I must, led by no stars,
uncaring the skies, young my scars,
I’ll find my haven, beyond bird and tree,
and beaches of the starlit sea.
Ship, my ship! I seek my rest,
and a warm hearth in my nest.
Farewell to this cold world at last,
heartless words, and uncaring past.
By Muhammad
Morrow is nigh, but dim my eyes,
though road ahead before me lies.
Farewell, friends! Now comes my call.
The hour is ripe to enter God’s hall.
The world is cold and hearts are gray;
beyond the sunset is my way.
My thoughts are quiet, the wind is free;
I hear the tidings from the Sea.
Farewell, friends! The days are gone
when merry we were, and bright was dawn.
Shadows vile before me lie,
beneath the ever-bending sky,
but no warmth comes from the Sun
that I shall know ere all is done;
lands there are where no cruel jest,
where night is quiet and sleep is rest.
Tread I must, led by no stars,
uncaring the skies, young my scars,
I’ll find my haven, beyond bird and tree,
and beaches of the starlit sea.
Ship, my ship! I seek my rest,
and a warm hearth in my nest.
Farewell to this cold world at last,
heartless words, and uncaring past.