[Karya]: Syair Babad

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim..Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh

A sword is a warrior's play, and a politician's weapon is his wits and talks, and a sage's heart is his pen. Neither am I a warrior nor a politicians, I as a humble and lowly sage dedicated my life for scholarly activities and scribing. The big question is, does Islam inhibits literacy and literature development? Of course not! Literature was there at the dawn of time, the Gilgamesh Epic in the Sumerian/Mesopotamia Age. And, literature flourished in the centres of the world, stabilizing and enforcing early civilizations with hymms and epics. We have the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Theology, those were not just a bedtime stories, it is a historical evidence! Literature was the space, a never ending void that used by these word "prophets" to express themselves. They were not kings, nor generals. They are just monks and, pages and scribes whose voice were never heard in the supreme hall of kings! So, they use the parchment and the pen, colored the world with their poems and songs.

And, when the Islamic Empire has rooted and ruled a third of the world, literacy was at  its zenith. We have Mevlana Jamaludin Runi, the Whirling Dervish who wrote the Mathnawi, enchanting the public to follow his trance, to whirl in the cold of winter and the scorch of summer. Don't stop their Sema, as their rotation synchronized with the galaxy, filling the void with chants and zikr to the Rabb. Don't stop them or the sun will stop glowing, and the galaxy stop too! And, don't forget Umar Khayyam, the great mathematicians who proved his value not in the the numerics but also aced in the field of words, his Ruba'iyyat.

Thus, their wisdom colored my introvert and passive world, enchanting me to forget about the world. No women, no treasures, nor power! Just Allah, Allah, Allah, and the rhythm continues as the bliss at the cape, the whispers in the desert and the thunder rumbling in the high sky. I present you, a humble work of a sage, a Mourning Sage.

Oh, My light, and my beacon,
hear my pleas and ascend me to you,
give my greetings to my lover
Muhammad Ahmad Zainul Anbiya'

Oh my life and my destination, 
I have wept and howled in agony,
of the trials you struck upon me,
Till the stream stopped,
But the agony continues to linger

Oh Kings of Kings,
I have loved and smiled,
Until my smile turns bitter,
I have hate and loath,
Until my heart ache

Oh Allah the great,
I have fought,
My limbs are gone and my stumps are red,
My eyes are gouged and my tongue was cut,
But, my heart continue to shine,
Loving you eternally,

No men, animal nor plants,
Who has dwelled in the pits and gorge
Of my heart, except You,
Accept my love for you 

The tulip which bloomed in the morning,
Spreading love in its fragrances,
I offered my care and love for it,
But, it shrunk and rejected me

My blemishes are great
And my flaws were distinct,
I am a living abomination
But still, You loved me

Ascend me and unshackle me
From the binds of this hell
It is not the heaven or the hell,
But it is You, my heart cling on

BONUS::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::