Not possible it is for the weak,
Of Ibrahim and Ismail we speak
Such glory and service we must seek.
If thy vision be true
Sacrifice thy beloved son,
Came the call from Allah, Lord of All.
My beloved son, Lord! And this call!
My father, said Ismail,
Myself I offer with a smile,
Come, father let us to our destiny go,
Sacrifice such as this was seen nevermore.
The place they reached,
A knife he sharpened
‘Blindfold me, father, strength will I find,
With open eyes, weak is my mind.
The knife did he put,
Hard did he try,
The harder he tried; Nothing!
‘Stop! I will send in thy honour this thing!’
A ram, innocent, gentle;
Silently it stood awaiting.
A true vision is this, O Ibrahim!
Sacrifice this Ram, and remember Him!