The fragrance of the rose garden and orchard is coming.
The fragrance of that tender-hearted Beloved is coming.
My Beloved has scattered so many pearls
that the sea is now up to my waist.
Bushy, thorny places appear softer than satin and silk
because of the image of His rose garden.
His Love is like a carpenter
making ladders up to the sky.
I have been hungry like a dog,
so much so that the fragrance of bread
keeps coming from the kitchen of souls.
The fragrance of soul is coming
from the door and walls of the Beloved’s quarter.
“Show me one sign of loyalty
and I will give you hundreds of thousands of them.”
In this manner, His loyalty continues.
In reality, the one who faces the Beauty of the Beloved
and dies there never dies.
He is the one who goes to heaven without dying.
The caravan of Absence arrives at reality
and stops there all the time.
But, it hides itself from that ugliness.
Beauties never approach that which is ugly.
The nightingale always flies to rose saplings.
Jasmine grows next to the narcissus.
The rose comes to bud with a smile.
All these are the signs, the meaning of this:
That world keeps coming to this one.
Like the mind inside of the sheath of blood and skin,
the signs of no-sign, of Absence keep coming from within.
Like butter within the soul of milk,
the house of non-existence keeps coming
to the house of existence.
The thing which cannot be explained with words
but which still tries to be explained with words
is coming from beyond Love.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 9, Ghazal 149, verses1511-1525, pages 228-229.