Just now, ruby-colored tears have started seeping from my eyes.
A sign has appeared from Love, yet a trace of Love’s dust never appears.
Look at the color of the Beloved.
Look at the color of lovers.
Just now, those two beautiful colors have come from that colorless soul.
Watch and see. The heavens are offering thousands of colors every moment,
colors which exist in neither earth nor sky.
The essence of color is colorlessness
The essence of shape is shapelessness.
The essence of words is silence.
It is the same for the things on hand,
as well as for the mine and the treasure.
You are the lover.
You are the Beloved.
You are also the one who is looking for both of them.
But, you are behind many curtains
in order to hide from this one and that one.
You are the Water of Life, but you have closed Your mouth
because of the jealousy of others.
The mouth keeps silent, while the heart continues yelling.
The songs of the birds in the early morning
are the envoy which comes from the mutes.
The trace of the world which cries in silence resides in the soul.
You cry with His pleasure.
You cry with His separation.
You deny it, but there are a thousand bits of evidence here.
If you haven’t been hunted by the Beloved, why are you so restless?
If you see that the millstone is turning,
you can be sure there is water around.
My soul orders, “Be silent. Don’t hurt me.”
I obey. I quit talking. I will keep silent.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 15, Ghazal 62, verses 670-679, pages 134-135.