I desired to praise the Chosen One and was hinderedBy my own inability to grasp the extent of his glory.How can one such as I measure an ocean, when the ocean is vast?And how can one such as I count the stones and the stars?If all of my limbs were to become tongues, even then –Even then I could not begin to praise him as I desired.And if all of creation gathered together in an attemptTo praise him, even then they would stint in his due.I have altogether ceased trying – awestruck, clinging to courtesy,Tempered by timidity, glorifying his most exalted rank.Indeed, sometimes silence holds within it the essence of eloquence,And often speech merely fodder for the faultfinder.
