O breath of spring breeze, O springtime,
I understand from the flowers
that you are also drunk thanks to Him.
Open and look.
Talk about, as I have, pureness, cleanliness and friendship.
See the face of that beautiful Sultan.
Now, the evidence which is beyond illusion
will be drawn toward the Sun.
That is also burned by one spark,
and the flame gets bigger over time.
When someone becomes mortal,
his breaths are counted.
Spring frightens him.
Roses and tulips resemble traps.
The one who watches them is the prey.
The flowers are like ambushes.
All those fruits are like game to be hunted.
The garden and orchard are laughing and dancing.
“After the hardship,” they say, “God’s grace
has opened joy and happiness.”
All the branches of the trees are dancing like new brides.
Every part of their bodies is laughing.
They are all like Mary, made pregnant by the breath of an angel.
They resemble beautiful virgins in paradise.
The Earth has turned into a paradise,
with beauties dancing day and night, swaying their heads and arms,
tapping the floor with their feet.
The cloud says to spring,
“Whatever I poured down and scattered in winter,
all were for you. You deserved them.”
My heart watches spring.
This is the Resurrection.
The things you saw all year long, good or bad,
they come back again.
Spring answers,
“O Soul, accept each breath as a seed.
Sow those seeds..
They will come back to you as a tree.
The secrets come to open in spring.
O spring, why do you hide them?
You are also in the middle and, at the same time, in the open.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 22, Ghazal 39, verses 354-371, pages 87-89.