The proud eagle thought the right to the world,
but it wrote it down with the blood.
The golden lion showed how poor is the power if it is not clothed in humility.
Strong in the fight, merciless in punishment, haughty in pride.
But yet both of them failed. Only sand which the wind scatters far away.
Only an echo which among the ancient walls rings out.
Only a remembrance which the Time slowly consumes.
Between them the desert, boundless, dazzling, home of the last solitude.
A people proud, untouched, fearless.
And among them the best of humanity, the chosen one,
the mercy for all the worlds.
Muhammad, the Praised One, the Prince of Peace
To whom God gave the difficult task to teach justice and faith to humanity.
The hawks of his people, men with an unbroken heart, with only one faith,
Bold stare, clothed in the garments of honour,
Followed him like the light the sun.
But here from that desert,
Where before every sound died out?
Where every clamour quiet down,
Where everything faded away
in the monotony of the wind blow,
Here from that desert, from that solitude,
a shout, a light, a hope from the world.
From that forgotten place
a new faith
still as ancient as the creation
It diffused like a melody
Sung with a loud voice,
Like a wave of the immense ocean,
Like the dawn when it dispels the darkness.
It never faded away.
Kings passed away, as the Empires of this world.
Time, which consumes everything,
could not even touch it,
it was not destroyed by the oblivion as the things of this world,
it was not consumed by human affairs.
Always new, yet ancient,
Strong as a rock, yet fragile as a cloud
It goes on in teaching man about himself.
It still illuminates the dark night of humanity,
when, already consumed by pain and sorrow, wishes for peace and return to God.
