From of old the scheme of all that must be has existed.
The pen of destiny has written good and evil without ceasing.
He has appointed in predestination all that must come.
We distress and bestir ourselves, but all to no avail.

Before now there have been signs of what is to come,
The pen never rests from good or evil.
Destiny has given you all that is to be,
Our worries and our endeavours are in vain.

The tablet bears a secret impress writ;
Of good or bad, the pen recks not one whit;
Whatever under Fate seemed right was giy’n;
‘Tis vain to struggle and to fight with it.

On Tablet writ whatever was to be,
And good or bad the Pen wrote the Decree;
On Day of Qismet all the lots were cast –
Our grief and struggle are but vanity.

O, Heart! Since earth’s truth is illusion vain,
Why so distressed in lasting grief and pain?
Bear trouble ! Bow to Fate ! Once gone the Pen
For thee will never trace the scroll again!

Ere yet the dawn of Azal shed its light
O’er dreary chaos and the realms of night,
The Pen, unmoved by good and evil, wrote;
Nor grief can change, nor endless toil rewrite.