You appear every day from that place
and carry water to the thirsty ones.
Every morning You offer light to the Earth.
You are the Soul to the soul of the Sun.
On the day that that light, that brightness doesn’t arrive,
two eyes will fall into the darkness of separation.
You are a sea telling the Earth,
“Plunge into Me so you will learn to swim.”
You tear apart the lips of disbelief and ingratitude.
You are a rough sea of charity and giving.
You open the eyes of everything in the ground.
They wonder, too, “How do You do that?”
The throat of the soul is burned by Your sweetness.
Why are You so sweet, so sweet, so sweet!
If I keep turning like a millstone day and night,
it is because of You.
You are the water in the mill.
The mill couldn’t stop even if it wanted to.
It can never escape from Your turning.
The stone which You turn through chemistry
will turn into gold.
The Earth rotates because of You.
You are the Soul of the Earth.
It doesn’t know anything about You or Your place.
But, that’s what it is.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 19, Ghazal 288, verses 3009-3019, pages 162-163.