O Mountains of Makkah,
Why does the falcon
Perched on your ancient peaks
Raise its majestic head
And let out a piercing cry
Carried by thunderstorms
To the lighted Minarets of al-Madinah?
Why does the two-humped camel
Memories of its ancestor
Proudly carrying the most blessed
Of human beings
Across the vast expanse of the desert
Traverse the sands where he rode
Lower its head in grief and shame?
Pilgrims on the floral rugs
Of the blessed Rawda
With longing hearts and tearful eyes
Prostrate, a prayer on their lips:
“Our Lord! Let us live by his love and the love of those who love him.
And let not our beating hearts for one moment be distracted by the abundant hate – for the love we carry, and the honour of his Lord – are like the falcon flying high above the wasteland, reaching mountain peaks impassable by ordinary men.
Peace be upon you Messenger of Allah; peace be upon you, Beloved of Allah!”