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In the Pure Climate of Faith

by Fethullah Gülen on . Posted in Broken Plectrum

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The spirit soaring towards eternity like the birds,
Out of the mysterious windows one within the other in the heart.
Every side is light, a different clarity everywhere,
With a thousand and one kinds of light waves from beyond.

Firmament before them, and streams of light everywhere,
Spirits here have sunk into eternal repose.
Leaves like emeralds that never see the fall
Remain unchanged in this country of immortality...

In this place where no darkness stops by,
There are illuminated roads stretching to Eternity.
As they reach the Friend's beauty beyond veils removed,
There are servants taut like bows with the enthusiasm of union...

They foam like the seas with emotion;
Thousands of ripples pursue thousands of waves.
They come here with nothing but leave satisfied...
And find the unsolvable enigma is solved...

Submerged to the knees with the stars... and the spirit with the Unknown,
The imagined realms begin to emerge.
The perceived and unperceived become intertwined;
Man longing since before time to attain this station.

Fantasy is the golden-winged bird of this climate,
Neither land nor sea can stop it.
It flaps its wings and rises, continuing its flight;
It cannot be contained by land, sky, or horizon...