Umayya's Vision

From "'Abqar"

And Hura' passed by me, scattering with his feet
So I said: Will you not come and tell us the news truly
He said: What I conjured in the dream
Is the ugliest dream I have ever sent down
Umayya felt in his side
And fancied the son of God in his heart
So I came to him one night when weariness had overcome him
And behold, a bird crouched down beside him
And drew forth from his chest his heart
And Umayya cried out to me, calling: O Hura'
Loathing had sunk into it its black claws
And hurt and evil and pride clamored within it
So the living thing with which heaven had graced me was
Like an ember cast seething into a trough of water
Where is the majesty of contentment and the chastity of the strong
Virtues upon which rancor had draped its sash

In the stillness of the desert, the dust of his dreams
Of the worst that you have revealed in dream to mankind
It is nothing but a sowing without a sprout
The dream of Umayya ibn Abi al-Salt
A prophet's heart beating within him
And the summons of God upon his lips
And the swoon of the prophets came over his soul
And it cut open the ribs of his sides
And set it before his eyes
A lump of flesh I see, kneaded with blood
And all of it churned in a blind turmoil
I searched its depths for a gleam of solace
Sighing sorrow within it beneath the frost of hypocrisy
Where, oh where, is reason and bountiful mercy
And where the light of guidance, and where the hand of hope
They all flew off and were scattered like dust

*

If I were with my heart, I its third — say, O Hura'
And what is in me were in them — I would not be among the prophets
And he sank down, overcome, helpless
Then the bird uncovered his chest
Until, when Umayya arose
He found no blood and no wound

If the hearts of mankind and my heart were the same
Among the prophets
Umayya, with rancor in his resting-place
And return the heart to its place
He pressed his two hands upon his side
But he felt the wound in his heart