As with the poem Arise!, this poem heralds the dawn of a new Revelation and a new age. But where Arise! speaks to the individual, this poem articulates more directly the effects that this new Revelation will have on society as a whole: e.g. the advent of `Justice, Law, Order’ and the banishment of unjust political and religious systems.
Furthermore, where Arise! dwells on the sheer joy of the new Revelation, this piece specifically indicts those who have until now held the reigns of power (the monarchs and `Sheiks’). Consequently, in this poem we have a clearer sense of the probability that the speaker is Ṭáhirih herself because so often in her poems (as in her life), she is utterly disdainful of the so-called learned ones of her society, represented in this poem by the `Shaykhs’.
Lovers! O Ye Lovers!
The face of truth has become manifest!
Lo, the veils have at last been removed
through the power of Rabb‑ul‑Falaq,
‘The Lord of the Dawn’!
Arise, each one of you!
In Bahá the face of God can be seen!
Look! See how that face,
bright like sun at daybreak,
shines with compassion and delight!
The time for rectitude has come!
Perversity is in retreat!
Indeed, everything you longed for
– Law, Order, Justice –
has at long last appeared!
Injustice and iniquity
have vanished from our midst.
Now is the age of charity and munificence.
All feebleness and frailty have been replaced
with sustenance and power.
For though the King of all kings has appeared
in the manner and custom of a single nation,
He will, through the mercy of the Eternal One,
deliver all the peoples of the world
from their burdens and their bondage.
 Quite possibly Táhirih is here alluding to the Qur’án 113:1–5 wherein Muammad reveals a prayer to the `Lord of the Dawn’ for protection against various sorts of evil. In essence, she is saying this assistance has at long last arrived:
In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful
say: I betake me for refuge to the Lord of the daybreak [Rabb‑al‑falaq]
Against the mischiefs of his creation;
And against the mischief of the night when it overtaketh me;
And against the mischief of weird women;
And against the mischief of the envier when he envieth.
Rumi also uses this term when emphasizing the irresistible power of God. (See Guwharín, Farhang, vol.5, p. 27)
 The literal translation of the passage would be: `with glory (Bahá) the face of God has become manifest’. In short, this may be an allusion to Bahá’u’lláh – something Táhirih does more explicitly in other verses – or it may be an allusion to the Báb who is the `Lord of the Dawn’ as regards the `Day of Resurrection’ alluded to over and over in the Qur’án, whereas Bahá’u’lláh is the manifestation of the `Latter Resurrection’ as mentioned in the writings of both the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh: See The Báb, Selections, p. 7 and Bahá’u’lláh, Kitáb-i-Íqán, p. 229.
Since Táhirih on several occasions demonstrates her awareness of the stations of both Manifestations, this poem may very well be alluding to both (the twin Revelations) and to this period of transformation initiated by the appearance of the Báb and consummated by the appearance of Bahá’u’lláh.
 Muhán: humiliated or weak person, despised. It can be also read as mihán meaning `respected ones, great ones’. `Great ones’ might be more appropriate since Rumi (Guwharín, Farhang, vol. 8, p. 213) and Nabíl use that expression in their poetry. For example, one verse from Nabíl says: `Become happy O great ones with God’s remembrance/ Since at this time the birthday of God has arrived.’ (Mathnaví of Nabíl, p. 8)
 `Time, age, eternity’ as translated by the Guardian in relation to its meaning in the Hidden Words (the eternal moment in Sufi terminology; Nurbakhsh, Treasury of Sufi Terms, vol. 2, p. 253).
 Lutf, `interacting with the others with delight and kindness, benevolence’.
 Teacher, professor, dean, learned, an old man, a venerable man, an elder, the chief of tribe.
 Andar Zamán: `Of the age’. We see this term in another poem of Táhirih (`As God is My witness’, couplet 5) meaning `in this age’.
 Literally, to `stir’ or `disorganize’.
 A somewhat liberal interpretation of chand-u-chún, meaning `quantity and attribute, quantity and quality’. Rumi says: `How would it fit in the narrowness of quantity and quality./ In that realm even the First Mind is bewildered.’ (Guwharín, Farhang, vol. 4, p. 62) Hence we interpret the term in this context as implying `people questioning what they should not question’ or `people’s attachments to their own things and their own reasoning’.
 The expression `milk changing to blood’ has been used in Rumi’s poetry: `For a while this mathnaví was delayed,/ Time is needed for the blood to change to milk’ and in another verse he observes: `Unless if your luck gives birth to a new child,/ the blood would not turn into the sweet milk, listen well.’
In olden times, people considered the mother’s milk to be her blood that at the time of giving birth turns into milk. There is a reference to that concept in the Qur’án (16:68): `Ye have also teaching from the cattle. We give you drink of the pure milk, between dregs and blood, which is in their bellies; the pleasant beverage of them that quaff it.’ (See Guwharín, Farhang, p. 354) Táhirih therefore seems to be saying, `Finally, the long-awaited time has arrived for the hardship and sadness to turn into comfort and nourishment.’
 Tábaq: The condition of people, the face of the earth (the state of the world). The word today also means page: i.e. one should turn the page and move on to a new chapter in the unfolding history of humankind. The word also was used for a round wooden tray with various delicacies in the different sections. People used to turn the tray around to reach for a different treat; therefore, the word might allude to a `turn for the better’. Even more allusively, the word could allude to the ancient concept of fate or fortune as the spinning of a wheel whereby one’s unfortunate circumstances might be made better.
 Qalaq: `Lock’; A bolt that fastens a door, state of being closed, tied, fastened. State of being loaded heavily, overburden.