In every mouth the tongue that utters speech becomes fragrant as musk in praising Thee. In Thy decree and will, as Thou art far or near, lies for the heart and soul eternal happiness or ruinous disaster, an imperishable kingdom or everlasting beguilement; Thy servants wander to and fro by day and night, all seeking Thyself from Thee. Fortune, and empire, and the glory of both worlds he knows who understands things manifest and hidden, yet longs not for them; for all is nothing without Thee,--nothing. Destruction and creation are alike easy to Thee; all that Thou hast willed, takes place. The cunning man, though mightier he be, is yet the feebler in Thy praise; or in this court Zâl-i-zar, though full of fury, is powerless as an old woman; in face of Thy decree of 'Be, and it was,' no one dares to question, 'What is this? How comes that?'