DEBUPalace Troubadour World

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Poetry by Shaykh Fattaah Arrangement by Mustafa Daood

If someone asks about me say, "He's just a lowly simple slave, A troubadour just for the King, In His palace where he sings." "Each word is lifted on angels' wings, Within the palace of the King, His songs alone are all he knows, He sings them every place he goes." With love and longing in my heart, I wanna sing like a meadow lark, The heart itself is the King's throne, And there I sing for Him alone. If you go inside down deep, You'll find the melodies so sweet, Deep in His palace you must go, A mighty realm you'll come to know. Its secret brings astonishment, What's hidden becomes evident, I'm just not able to explain, The tongue can't be that well trained. If you're allowed to go inside, That's where the King Himself resides, You'll stay alive though you are dead, The fool's transformed he's wise instead. A great enigma though it seems, It's far beyond ones thoughts and schemes, Just go inside it won’t take long, Before you start to sing his song. x