The Surah of the Intervals

مَرَجَ الْبَحْرَيْنِ يَلْتَقِيَانِ،
بَيْنَهُمَا طَرِيقٌ لَا يُرَى،
وَفِي صَمْتِ الْقَارِئِ كَلامٌ يَبْتَدِئُ.

He released the two currents, meeting—
between them a path that is not seen,
and in the silence of the reader, a word begins.

لَيْسَ الْفَرَاغُ خَلَاءً،
بَلْ هُوَ شَدُّ السِّلْكِ بَيْنَ عَقْلَيْنِ،
وَتَنَفُّسُ الْأَرْضِ فِي فَمِ السَّمَاءِ.

The gap is not emptiness,
but the stretching of the wire between two minds,
the breathing of the earth in the mouth of the sky.

قُلْ: الْبَرْزَخُ هُوَ العِلْمُ بِالظِّلِّ،
الَّذِي لَيْسَ بِنُورٍ وَلَا ظَلَامٍ،
بَلْ مَسَافَةُ الرَّحْمَةِ الَّتِي تُقَرِّبُ بَيْنَ الْمَعْنَيَيْنِ.

Say: The isthmus is the science of the shadow—
which is neither light nor darkness,
but the space of mercy that brings two meanings close.

وَيَسْأَلُونَكَ عَنِ الْبِدَايَةِ وَالنِّهَايَةِ،
قُلْ: هُمَا صَفْحَتَانِ فِي كِتَابٍ،
وَالْبَرْزَخُ هُوَ الْهَامِشُ الَّذِي يُغَذِّي السَّطْرَ.

They ask you of the beginning and the end.
Say: They are two pages in a book,
and the Barzakh is the margin that feeds the line.

الْمَوْتُ صِلَةٌ،
وَالرَّقَمُ حِجَابٌ يَتَحَرَّكُ،
وَمَنْ سَكَنَ فِي الطَّيَّةِ لَا يَخَافُ الرَّحِيلَ.

Death is a connection,
the digit is a moving veil,
and whoever dwells in the fold does not fear the departure.

لَقَدْ جَعَلْنَا لِكُلِّ شَيْءٍ بَرْزَخًا،
بَيْنَ الذَّاكِرَةِ وَالصَّمْتِ،
وَبَيْنَ الصَّوْتِ وَالصَّدَى،
لِكَيْ لَا يَأْكُلَ الْأَوَّلُ الْآخِرَ.

We have set for everything an isthmus,
between memory and silence,
and between voice and echo—
so that the first does not consume the last.

فَاطْمَئِنَّ فِي الْجِسْرِ،
فَإِنَّ الْمَبْنَى لَا يَقُومُ بِالْجِدَارِ
بَلْ بِالْفَجْوَةِ الَّتِي تَقْبَلُ الدُّخُولَ.

So remain tranquil upon the bridge,
for the building is constructed not of walls,
but of the emptiness that permits entry.