There is a beautiful River I daily race,
But cannot ever match its pace.
For if I am sour in taste,
It still gives fresh water to me.
If I stay stagnant in my place,
It runs by slower for me.
If I drop into it my worries and waste,
It flings it not back at me.
If I greet it everyday with a new face,
It is the same temperature for me.
If I turn my back and deny its grace,
It stays patiently at my side for me.
And if I am regretful and try to reach this River’s pace,
I already know I’ve lost this race.
Shame on me.
Because no other water will give me what my River gives.
The River of two waters combined,
whom by the will of Allah,
First gave life to me.
And who but an unthankful human,
Does not treat its own River gently…