Скачать или смотреть Arrogance Islamic Reflection Poem on Pride, Ego, and Humility before Allah

The Illusion of Independence from the Creator
In realms of thought, where human pride takes hold,
A perilous tale, through ages often told.
The heart believes, in power, wealth, and might,
It stands alone, veiled from Eternal Light.
This Kibr, this Istighna, a subtle, blinding snare,
Forgetful of the Source, of blessings everywhere.
A silent Ghaflah, dims the inner sight,
And turns the soul from truth, to endless night.

For man transgresses, oversteps all bounds,
When self-sufficient, his proud spirit sounds.
He sees his fortune, built by his own hand,
Forgetting grace, that nurtures all the land.
No longer sees the Giver, pure and kind,
But claims the glory, with a clouded mind.
This false illusion, born of transient gain,
Leads to rebellion, and enduring pain.

"Does man then fancy, left without a guide?"
"That aimless he shall wander, far and wide?"
A voice resounds, through cosmic order deep,
From intricate design, where purposes keep.
The universe, a tapestry profound,
No idle stitch, no meaning left unfound.
For every breath, a purpose to unfold,
No self-made destiny, in stories old.

Behold the parable, of gardens rich and vast,
Where two men walked, and one's proud shadow cast.
With vines that flourished, dates in clusters hung,
And rivers flowed, where grateful songs were sung.
The proud man boasted: "Wealth and power mine!
I stand above you, by my own design!"
He walked in gardens, unjust to his soul,
"This will not perish, I command control!"

"The Hour won't strike! Or if I seek my Lord,
A better fortune, surely He'll accord!"
His wise companion, with a humble plea,
"Did you deny your Maker, who fashioned thee?
From dust and sperm-drop, then a man so fine?
To Him, all power, His will, not yours, divine!"
He warned of ruin, by a thunderbolt sent,
A barren mound, where boastful pride was spent.

Then came the tempest, swift and unforeseen,
And scattered all the verdant, prosperous scene.
The proud man wrung his hands, in bitter plight,
"Oh, had I not associated, with His guiding light!"
No aid for him, from gods he once believed,
Only his ruin, for his heart deceived.
For sovereignty is Allah’s, Truth alone,
Best in recompense, from His eternal throne.

When hardships strike, man turns to God in need,
A humble whisper, planting hope's soft seed.
But when relief, like gentle breeze, takes flight,
He walks again, as though no troubled night
Had ever stirred his slumber, deep and long,
Forgetful of the Hand, where blessings throng.
Thus, to the transgressors, their deeds seemed fair,
Lost in heedlessness, beyond all care.

This arrogance, a veil upon the mind,
To reality's essence, it leaves one blind.
It distorts truth, undermines all grace,
A deviation from the appointed place.
For how can man, a fragile, fleeting breath,
Claim independence, in the face of death?
Each rise and fall, by cosmic laws defined,
A humble truth, for an enlightened mind.

Yet boundless Mercy, from the Lord descends,
His constant Guidance, to the journey's ends.
For human arrogance, He still provides,
And through His trials, our deeper self confides.
From humble dust, our transient forms arise,
To Him we turn, beneath His watchful skies.
Adversity's flame, not punishment severe,
But wisdom's lesson, to draw His presence near.

So shed the veil, of ego's proud disdain,
Embrace dependence, find true peace again.
For in this journey, where His grandeur lies,
The human spirit, truly starts to rise.
With heartfelt gratitude, and purpose clear,
We walk His path, untouched by pride or fear.