Light

Until the glorious Sun hath vanquished Night,
The Birds of Day cower trembling with affright.
But lo! a bright glance bids the Tulip ope;
O Heart, awake thou too, in Duty's might.
The Sun's Sword sheds in reddening flush of Dawn
The Blood of Night, and puts the Foe to flight.
The Soul still full of sleep, dreams Night prevails;
But no! Day comes, and triumphs full in sight.
While grey Dawn lingers, dubious yet is Day;
But in Day's glow, who still can doubt the Light.
The Light grows in the East; I in the West
On Mountain top, reflect the Morn's delight.
To Beauty's Sun, I'm but the pale moon here;
Then look from me towards the Sun's face bright.
The Light in East is called JELÁLEDDÍN;
And here my verse reflects its glowing White.