CI
The guiding hand of Allah I can see
Upon my staff: of what use then is he
Who'd be the blind man's guide? Thou silent oak,
No son of Eve shall walk with me and thee.
CII
My life's the road on which I blindly speed:
My goal's the grave on which I plant a reed
To shape my Hope, but soon the Hand unseen
Will strike, and lo! I'm but a sapless weed.
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