[The following is from 'The Beacons of Light' by at Tabrisi, W.O.F.I.S,
Tehran, Iran]
Surely the Prophet Muhammad, son of Aminah,
Is for me like my own Child.
When he held on to the halter of my camel, I felt
Compassion for him,
Even as the white camels were loaded,
Copious tears flowed from my eyes
Tears like scattered pearls
I treated him kindly as befits a close relative
And guarded well the trust of his forefathers concerning him.
I ordered him to ride among paternal uncles,
With white faces, brave swordsmen,
They traveled to the furthest known station –
Far indeed was the station where their camels lay down!
When at last the people of Basra saw him,
They met a learned monk who was keeping close watch
He related to them a true account concerning him,
And thus turned back the people of envy
A group of Jews also saw what he saw:
The shade of a white cloud and the glory of a close relative
They went seeking to kill Muhammad, and he restrained them,
And thus engaged in the best of struggle.
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