Classic Poem

Of Thee I seek for aid, O single and undivided God!
Be but Thou my helper, then will all my work succeed.
Thy helpless slave am I, yet Thy mercies I will praise,
Ever will I repeat Thy praises while remains with me the power.
Thy praises are without number, more numerous than the sand of the desert,
Who is there that can count the sand or reckon its number?
Neither Age is Thine nor Youth, as Thou wast so Thou remainest,
As Thou wast, Thou wilt abide through all Eternity.
The earth, the seven heavens, the two worlds, human creatures,
All hast Thou alone created without any help from others;
All the worlds hast Thou created by Thy simple order:
The Creator of all these worlds art Thou, yet has none created Thee.
Whether white or black all is witness to Thy unity,
For Thou encompasseth all, whether white or black.
All thy works are lovely, in beauty and goodness are they fashioned,
Whilst such as are wrought by us are sometimes good and sometimes bad.
Our misfortunes are our own fault, for hard is to us right conduct,
Yet art Thou not such as closest Thy door to mercy.
Thou askest of my conduct, does it agree with my speech?
Ah no! but Billal's stammering confession of faith was more acceptable than that of others.
Untutored is my speech, unfit medium for Thy praises,
By Thy grace will it become fitter, O Eternal Single God.