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Through Death
Jan 1, 1997

As for the believing souls, worship of God is a mount for them,

by which they fly to the clime where angels fly.

With hearts at rest, with spirits having reached their aspirations,

They hear God’s compliments distinctly, word by word.

The faces of the believers are bright with flashes of joy.

They overflow with emotions while walking illumined roads.

The merriment of union is heard from a few steps ahead.

Voices rise in the company of the melodies of houris.

Flowers shimmer all around like narcissi,

and hearts beat with a different sound.

Eyes shining brightly pour forth smiles.

If it were possible, a heart would stop for happiness.

Souls go to their ease in the highest realm of Paradise,

where colours, patterns and harmonies charm the eyes.

Sometimes beauties excelling those of Paradise are sensed,

and angels visit that festival on their mounts...