The drink is poured in the dhikr
A drink whose scent diffuses strongly.
We entered the presence of purity (hadrat al-quds)
And it was Laylatul Qadr
We drank the cup of Love
And it made us lovers for all our lives.
A drink pressed most sweet,
And it was the hour of pressing (asr)
In the depth of the night we were called
By the Lord of the Throne, for Fajr
So how many are those awake in supplication
And how many are those reciting the Dhikr (the Quran)
And how many are those up, crying,
With tears dripping down like rain drops.
So ask the prayer movements about them,
In the time when the night is passing.
And how many are in the mosque in itikaf,
Like a bird in its nest.
And how many are buying, selling,
But the love in their hearts like burning coals.
And how many are the worshippers walking
With the Qutbs and with al-Khadir
And how many are travelers, journerying
Like the birds and like the eagle.
And how many are the scholars, presenting
Pearls of knowledge, like the ocean.
And how many are doing dhikr at night,
Like the lion when it roars.
And how many are silent, reciting,
With their souls, in their innermost being.