His thought plucked a star from heaven: He named time “a cutting sword.”
How shall I say what is the secret of this sword? In its flashing edge there is life.
Its owner is exalted above hope and fear, His hand is whiter than the hand of Moses.
At one stroke thereof water gushes from the rock And the sea becomes land from dearth of moisture.
Moses held this sword in his hand, Therefore he wrought more than man may contrive.
He clove the Red Sea asunder, And made its waters like dry earth.
The arm of Ali (R.A.), the conqueror of Khaibar, Drew its strength from this same sword.
The revolution of the sky is worth seeing, The change of day and night is worth observing.
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