Beauty of Truth (Husn-e-Haqiqi)

Lately I have been listening to this song which goes hundreds and hundreds year back. This poem was written by Khwaja Ghulam Farid who was a renown Sufi poet of his time and fortunately till date. 


This song was recently sung by a Pakistani singer Arieb Azhar, whom you'll hear/see in the video I have posted. Arieb Azhar has done a tremendous work by bringing this poem back, giving it his touch and introducing it to the youth or else we might have just taken a glance and looked away.


My interpretation: I would just summarize my experience with this song without judging what others might have felt or have thought about the essence of this song, so if your ideology or rendering of this song differ from mine then no offense even if its pure nonsense to you. 


When I heard this song I felt that Baba Farid looked around him, realized the names humans have given to their eternal being; be it the Atheist, Occultists, Hindus, Muslims, Jewish, Buddhists, Christians, Sikhs, Shintos, Jains etc..  They all have given different names to the eternal being due to (or in) different circumstances and manifestations (in happiness, depression, love, intoxication, agony, or in any other notion..). Baba Farid here is be being direct to the god and seems to be in a dilemma while speculating " How may I refer to you?", for me you are all those yet one eternal being. Whichever (elements of life) excites your creation, they refer to you by that name; Which ever name I may refer to, all in all, I'm too petty to even describe that I don't see you in everything, You are the creator of everything.You are not the reflection of your creation, you are the one, the creator of all heavens and earth and all that's in between.

If your observations, learning or understanding of this song differs from my opinion then I would love to hear your point of view and it might help be understand this synopsis better.

The translation of the verses.


O’ Beauty of Truth, the Eternal Light!
Do I call you necessity and possibility,
Do I call you the ancient divinity,
The One, creation and the world,
Do I call you free and pure Being,
Or the apparent lord of all,
Do I call you the souls, the egos and the intellects,
The imbued manifest, and the imbued hidden,
The actual reality, the substance,
The word, the attribute and dignity,
Do I call you the variety, and the circumstance,
The demeanor, and the measure,
Do I call you the throne and the firmament,
And the demurring delights of Paradise,
Do I call you mineral and vegetable,
Animal and human,
Do I call you the mosque, the temple, the monastery,
The scriptures, the Quran,
The rosary, the girdle,
Godlessness, and faith,
Do I call you the clouds, the flash, the thunder,
Lightning and the downpour,
Water and earth,
The gust and the inferno,
Do I call you Lakshmi, and Ram and lovely Sita,
Baldev, Shiv, Nand, and Krishna,
Brahma, Vishnu and Ganesh,
Mahadev and Bhagvaan,
Do I call you the Gita, the Granth, and the Ved,
Knowledge and the unknowable,
Do I call you Abraham, Eve and Seth,
Noah and the deluge,
Abraham the friend, and Moses son of Amran,
And Ahmad the glorious, darling of every heart,
Do I call you the witness, the Lord, or Hejaz,
The awakener, existence, or the point,
Do I call you admiration or prognosis,
Nymph, fairy, and the young lad,
The tip and the nip,
And the redness of betel leaves,
The Tabla and Tanpura,
The drum, the notes and the improvisation,
Do I call you beauty and the fragrant flower,
Coyness and that amorous glance,
Do I call you Love and knowledge,
Superstition, belief, and conjecture,
The beauty of power, and conception,
Aptitude and ecstasy,
Do I call you intoxication and the drunk,
Amazement and the amazed,
Submission and the connection,
Compliance and Gnosticism,
Do I call you the Hyacinth, the Lilly, and the Cypress,
And the rebellious Narcissus,
The bereaved Tulip, the Rose garden, and the orchard,
Do I call you the dagger, the lance, and the rifle,
The hail, the bullet, the spear,
The arrows made of white poplar, and the bow,
The arrow-notch, and the arrowhead,
Do I call you colorless, and unparalleled,
Formless in every instant,
Glory and holiness,
Most glorious and most compassionate,
Repent now Farid forever!
For whatever I may say is less,
Do I call you the pure and the humane,
The Truth without trace or name.