What follows is a provisional translation (in other words, not official or authorized; see here for more) of a Tablet of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that He wrote at the home of Helen Goodall in Oakland, California. According to Maḥmúd’s Diary, where an earlier translation of the first few sentences of this same Tablet appears, it was written for Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥaydar-‘Alí on 16 October 1912.
The full text of this Tablet was first published in Najm-i-Bákhtar (Star of the West), vol. 4, no. 7 (13 July 1913), pp. 124–25. A typescript was later published in Khúshih-Há’í az Kharman-i-Adab va Hunar, vol. 1, pp. 127–28. I am deeply grateful to Dr. Khazeh Fananapazir for acquainting me with this Tablet as it appears in the latter source.
Given how especially beautiful the abundance of rhymed prose in this Tablet is in the original Persian, I have recorded a recitation of it that is accessible here.
Haifa
To the esteemed [Ḥájí Mírzá] Ḥaydar-ʻAlí, upon him be the Glory of God, the All-Glorious
He is God
O thou who art the partner and co-sharer of ʻAbdu’l-Bahá in servitude to the Threshold of Bahá! It is nighttime in Oakland, California. The home of that handmaid of God, Mrs. Helen Goodall,[1] is the nest of these wandering birds. It is the Nineteen-Day Feast, and a group of the faithful friends and radiantly pure leaves are gathered in supplication to the Most Glorious Kingdom. Every delicacy is prepared and laid out, and the spread of food is as wholesome and exquisite as can be. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
They sing a new and wondrous song of humble prayer, and with a fresh and melodious cry, they teach lessons on the various planes of meaning. In a state of utmost love and supplication are they. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Their faces are illumined with the light of the love of God; through the fragrance wafting from the Most Glorious Paradise, their temperaments are as delightful as rose-gardens, and their hearts as lovely as flowery meadows. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Grand events are arranged; the greatest of churches are prepared, and ʻAbdu’l-Bahá crieth out, “Yá Baháʼu’l-Abhá!” O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Extensive talks are given to gatherings of Jews; the truth of the Promised Messiah[2] is established, and the validity of God’s Apostle[3] clearly demonstrated. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Conclusive proofs are adduced and lucid evidences brought forth. All remain silent and speechless, and express their unanimous joy at the end. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
In the churches of the Christians, the power and grandeur of Muḥammad are readily apparent, the Revelation of the Báb is resplendently proven, and the dawning of the Sun of Truth[4] shineth with brilliance. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Their ears relish those sweet sounds; every listener is astonished, and they fix their gaze intensely. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
The cup of the love of God is filled to overflowing; the gathering of the friends is suffused with light, and their hearts unravel many a mystery. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Mr. [William] Ralston[5] is in attendance; ‘Abdu’l-Bahá is speaking, Mírzá Aḥmad Sohráb is transcribing, and the Ancient Beauty is present and observing. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
The companions are gathered and the friends are as candles, possessed of perceptive eyes and discerning ears. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
The ray of the Sun of Truth shineth forth, the blessed Tree casteth its shade, and the breeze blowing from the Most Glorious Rose-garden bestoweth life. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Yesterday, we were at the palatial residence of that handmaid of God, Mrs. [Phoebe] Hearst, in the President Hotel.[6] It is a most exquisite estate, replete with flowers white as pearls, red roses resembling precious rubies, violets that droop as if with intoxicated joy, dahlias like unto brilliant stars, and sweetly fragrant gillyflowers. Here the king of roses is crowned with his diadem; here the rolling country gardens are beautifully adorned. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
The clouds weep with their copious rain, and the flowers laugh with the fullness of their bloom; the trees are laden with fruit, and the grass is lush and verdant; the breeze is gentle to the utmost, and the scenery delightful as can be. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
No tumult in the town or city’s there
But for the curling lock of the Friend’s hair
No stir in all the world does one find now
Except the curve of that Companion’s brow[7]
O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
There is much to say—countless events have come to pass, and mystery after mystery hath been made clear—but the friends give me no time and grant me no opportunity. They are in a hurry, always awaiting an address and ever expecting a response. They raise a constant clamor and commotion, a continuous uproar and hubbub! I am compelled to be brief, and so I write in haste. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
In short, I am thinking of returning. I strain myself night and day without so much as a moment’s peace. I am either giving a talk or writing a letter, either making a reply or traversing a plain, either crossing an ocean or passing by a majestic mountain. The body cannot endure it; it is enough to melt one’s bones. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Among the photographs that are received, the portraits convey the degree of my fatigue. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
My hope is such that I may soon return to that land. My heart yearneth for the Threshold, and my soul longeth for the faces of the friends. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
To sum up, our journey hath come to an end and the morn of return hath broken, for we have arrived at the shores of the Pacific Ocean. Beyond this lie the islands of Hawaii,[8] as well as China and Japan. It is a vast distance, and my strength and power have reached their limit. Now I must turn my attention to the focal point of the Sun of Truth and hasten to the Blessed Spot, that I may lay my head upon the dust of the Threshold and perfume my hair with the sweetness of its fragrance.
Praised be God, we come together, each like a candle in our gatherings, all in perfect fellowship with one another. It is love upon love. At all times of the day there is mutual affinity; the friends accompany one another, each at the other’s side as a close companion. They take each other in their embrace and are of one mind, communing intimately with the Blessed Beauty day and night. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Convey my Abhá greetings to all the friends of God. O would that thou wert here; how dearly thou art missed!
Upon thee be the Glory of the All-Glorious.
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[1] Formerly on 1537 Jackson Street. A photograph of Helen Goodall’s home appears below.
[2] Jesus Christ.
[3] Muḥammad.
[4] Bahá’u’lláh.
[5] In the original Persian, this gentleman’s surname has been transliterated as “Rástin,” but Richard Hollinger has suggested to me, in private correspondence, that the intended referent was probably William C. Ralston, an early Bahá’í of California. References to Ralston can be found in Ramona Allen Brown, Memories of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá: Recollections of the Early Days of the Bahá’í Faith in California (U.S. Bahá’í Publishing Trust: Wilmette, Illinois, 1980), pp. 24 and 91–92, as well as O.Z. Whitehead, Some Early Bahá’ís of the West (George Ronald: Oxford, England, 1976), p. 30. I am grateful to Steven Kolins and Don Calkins for calling my attention to these two references.
[6] While I have learned, through private correspondence with Richard Hollinger, that “Phoebe Hearst maintained an apartment in a hotel in San Francisco, where she often stayed after social events in that city,” and that “she sometimes entertained there,” this must be a reference to the Hacienda del Pozo de Verona, the home of Phoebe Hearst on the outskirts of Pleasanton and, according once again to Richard Hollinger, “the main site for her social engagements.” Photographs of the Hacienda from about the time when ‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited it, taken from Memories of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá (between pp. 24–25), are included below. For a firsthand account of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s visit to the Hacienda, which took place from 13–16 October 1912, refer to the relevant entries in Maḥmúd’s Diary.
[7] Verses from an ode by Sa‘dí.
[8] The original Persian literally reads “the islands of Honolulu” (jazá’ir-i-hunulúlú).
A typescript of the original Persian text of this Tablet appears below (all punctuation and vocalization mine).
Adib Masumian 