He frowned and turned away
Because the blind man came to him
And what would make thee know that he might purify himself
Or be mindful, so the Reminder should profit him
As for him who considers himself free from need
To him thou dost attend
And no blame is on thee, if he purify himself not
And as to him who comes to thee striving hard
And he fears -
To him thou payest no regard
Nay, surely it is a Reminder
So let him who will mind it
In honoured books
Exalted, purified
In the hands of scribes
Nobel, virtuous
Woe to man! How ungrateful is he
Of what thing did He create him
Of a small life-germ. He creates him, then proportions him
Then makes the way easy for him
Then he causes him to die, then assigns to him a grave
Then when He will, He raises him to life again
Nay, but he does not what He commands him
Then let man look at his food -
How We pour down abundant water
Then cleave the earth, cleaving (it) asunder
Then cause the grain to grow therein
And grapes and clover
And the olive and the palm
And thick gardens
And fruits and herbage -
A provision for you and your cattle
But when the deafening cry comes
The day when a man flees from his brother
And his mother and his father
And his spouse and his sons
Every man of them, that day, will have concern enough to make him indifferent to others
Faces on that day will be bright
Laughing, joyous
And faces on that day will have dust on them
Darkness covering them
Those are the disbelievers, the wicked