The Holy Mysteries Poem by AFFAQ NABI

Tenderly, the Mediterranean Sea awoke at midnight,  
From it's long slumber, and the beach birds,  
Did sail to seawards, to their task at the first light.
Then, around the coast, far and wide, green buds
unsealed their eyelids to the balmy fondles of twilight.
Then I heard an early voice of the rising day,  
That spread over to the horizon; it was flushed bright.
Beyond that voice was an amazing tale,  
A sound fluorescent and the important one.
Then, from the mountain side, an uproar rose up,  
Tougher to define in the mortal tongue.
I have never seen such a number
Of sylphs,
Who by morning at the fountain sang,
The holy mysteries of the kingdom of heaven,  
With their sweet lyrics, the day began, and please listen!
The appealing things—clay cups,
or unseen,
Mysteries that we people claim our own,  
And other relics, objects, beyond our reason,  
Or power are all divine, and man's position,  
Is here merely like a scout in a garden?
We're all parked and bound with a rope.
And God is capable of calling our return without any reason. ---